I worte this thing like a hundred times, and I tore them all up, because I have to admit, I don't like vows.
I'm afraid of things pretending to be permanent because nothing is permanent. My life, especially these past two years, is a testament to the fact that things change, people change. But with you, that doesn't scare me. It actually makes me happy. It makes me excited, because I can think of no better life than watching Amanita Caplan change, watching her evolve and grow. I want to see everything that you become. I want to know what your hair looks like in a year and decades from now. I may not be a tragically detached French girl, but I want to live in an attic apartment in Paris and bring you tea as you write your novel.
And when we're both wrinkled old ladies, with cellulite coverying my ass, bunions all over your feet, both of us hogging the blanket. I know I will still remember this moment. I will still be wearing this ring. Because inside your arms, is the only place I've ever felt like I was home.
The improbable unfolding of recent events have led me to consider that no one thing is one thing only. How people endow what is familar with new, ever-evolving meanning and by doing so, release us from the expected, the familiar into something unforeseeable. It is in this unfamiliar realm, we find new possibilities. It is in the unkown, we find hope.
Here we stand in the Eiffel Tower, which was conceived in gratitude for the French Revolution. It has been a zeppelin lookout, a transmitter tower, and for generations of Parisians, an aspiration for a better, a brighter future.
Similarly plural in meaning is a wedding. A wedding is a celebration which can also be understood as a union of two families, and in this case, this union takes on an even deeper significance. And for me, this wedding is proof. Proof that for all the differences between us and all the forces that try to divide us they will never exceed the power of love to unite us.