Where's the bride?

Or Why believing in things shapes our world. 

There are things that defy logic and reason.

Like airplanes and electricity and The Real Housewives of Whatever

(a small town near Tulsa, where they really had nothing worth mentioning, so they decided to have another horrible tv show).

Things you can’t simply fathom why they exist, how they exist, yet they still do.

Things that nobody can really explain, but we all agree ARE. Like some kind of dogmas you have to follow. We never question them, mainly because you can’t question a light bulb turning on or a plane taking off. Personally I could question The Real Housewives of Whatever, but my girlfriend seems to like them (and they’re so much better than the ones from LA).

Anyway, nobody does.

You either love, hate or ignore these things. But you can’t DENY their existence. Why? Because you would look like a moron. Or worse, you’d look like one of those hipsters that DOESN’T BELIEVE IN THINGS.

“You know, in this coffee shop we really don’t believe in coffee, that’s why we switched to this green bean extract …”

They don’t believe in “things”. As if things were all like Santa.
Or Bigfoot.

So while I’m in Paris, approaching the date of my first Gaydding (Gay Wedding) experience, I can’t help but feel opposite thoughts clashing in my head.

On one side I know this is not something we should consider special. If we do, we must then admit we have been thinking and behaving towards gays in a way that most resembles a giant pile of crap in the last what, ten centuries?

How could we not allow this? What was our justification?

“Yeah, see, we don’t really “believe” in marriage between gay people…”

On the other side, I feel exhilarated. This is all utterly ridiculous.

Did we really NOT BELIEVE in the right of two people of being together? Of loving each other? Of bitching over what flowers to choose for the aisle?

And I suddenly realize, that I feel in the same way in front of a Gaydding and electricity.

I don’t know how it works, I don’t know what happens inside it, I don’t know why is it in this way.

I can just accept it, as the thing it is.

And believe in it.

To be able, one day, to say “I was there” or “One of the first Gayddings I went to” or “You won’t believe me, but there was a time when gay people were not allowed to marry.”

And I’ll be proud to look into my nephew’s eyes.

And really hope they won’t believe me.