When I first told friends that David and I were having serious marriage conversations, I expected smiles and congratulations. Instead I observed raised eyebrows and puzzled frowns.
My friends’ first question is understandable. “He lives in Arkansas. You have another two years in New York before you finish your doctoral course work. Won’t you be engaged forever?”
“No,” I reply, “we’ll go ahead and get married next year and just live apart for a while. It will be tough, but temporary.”
“Why get married then? What’s the point?”
I respond with David’s words to me: I’d rather be married to you and not living with you than not married to you and not living with you. “But why?” insists Ellen. “Isn’t he just being possessive?” “She can call it possessive if she wants,” David later says to me, “if wanting you to be my wife is being possessive.”