BTAM: True Love
I never wore a suit to grieve. Too expensive. Not worth it, and I will stand for that. If I ever die, put me in a coffin with short pants and flip flops. To be dressed properly it won't fade the fact that I would probably have died from a ridiculous reason such as being ran over by a rickshaw. But last week, I sent my only suit to the dry-cleaner for the first time.
When I meet Fabio, we spoke in “Portuñol”, which is a meet-me-in-the-middle option for Spanish and Portuguese speakers who doesn't know each other language. It was two years ago, and he came to learn English, but with no basic knowledge of it. Nothing, nada. Even with such a barrier ahead, he made tons of friends in just a couple of months. He arrived in September and by Christmas eve, he was in the conundrum of picking one of the many dinner invitations he got from friends and acquaintances. The secret: being completely fearless of English language. It was a learning process: Honey is not the same as horny, sweeteners aren't sweet Mary's, a coke is not a cock, Under Pressure is a song, On depression is an emotional disease. In the end he learn and laugh more than being on a classroom or at a stand-up show.
But this story is about love. When Fabio told us that he was dating someone. When we help them to move together, and when he called to announce they were getting married. Taciturn and thoughtful, Stephen is the perfect complement for a loud, cheerful and dramatic latino; and quickly became a personal friend of mine. For most of the people love equals butterflies in the stomach. I don't really know how they got there, but my personal vision goes a bit further than that: There's frustration and struggle, no understandings, "Quijoteadas", epiphanies, healing and hurting, crying on a pillow, Bon Jovi, euphoria, happy and crappy endings, no endings. True loves goes through all that and far beyond.
The night of the ceremony I wore a suit for the first time in years. I took it to the dry cleaning for the occasion. The wedding was celebrated in a large house with wooden varnished walls, chimney, a grand piano and a smell of blue and good taste. And of course, while reading their vows, Fabio got stuck a couple of times with some words he didn't understand. But in a world more and more slanted towards cynicism and disbelief, Fabio and Stephen showed me that to marry each other is accepting that there's no half measures for true love. Some people may deal with it day by day, go slowly. But love ain't for the prudent, risks needs to be taken. Burn your ships! Tell the world! Make an oath!
And while a large part of world's society still debates about equal marriage, I don't see why should we. The fight is over. The only thing left to do is celebrate true love.
When I meet Fabio, we spoke in “Portuñol”, which is a meet-me-in-the-middle option for Spanish and Portuguese speakers who doesn't know each other language. It was two years ago, and he came to learn English, but with no basic knowledge of it. Nothing, nada. Even with such a barrier ahead, he made tons of friends in just a couple of months. He arrived in September and by Christmas eve, he was in the conundrum of picking one of the many dinner invitations he got from friends and acquaintances. The secret: being completely fearless of English language. It was a learning process: Honey is not the same as horny, sweeteners aren't sweet Mary's, a coke is not a cock, Under Pressure is a song, On depression is an emotional disease. In the end he learn and laugh more than being on a classroom or at a stand-up show.
But this story is about love. When Fabio told us that he was dating someone. When we help them to move together, and when he called to announce they were getting married. Taciturn and thoughtful, Stephen is the perfect complement for a loud, cheerful and dramatic latino; and quickly became a personal friend of mine. For most of the people love equals butterflies in the stomach. I don't really know how they got there, but my personal vision goes a bit further than that: There's frustration and struggle, no understandings, "Quijoteadas", epiphanies, healing and hurting, crying on a pillow, Bon Jovi, euphoria, happy and crappy endings, no endings. True loves goes through all that and far beyond.
The night of the ceremony I wore a suit for the first time in years. I took it to the dry cleaning for the occasion. The wedding was celebrated in a large house with wooden varnished walls, chimney, a grand piano and a smell of blue and good taste. And of course, while reading their vows, Fabio got stuck a couple of times with some words he didn't understand. But in a world more and more slanted towards cynicism and disbelief, Fabio and Stephen showed me that to marry each other is accepting that there's no half measures for true love. Some people may deal with it day by day, go slowly. But love ain't for the prudent, risks needs to be taken. Burn your ships! Tell the world! Make an oath!
And while a large part of world's society still debates about equal marriage, I don't see why should we. The fight is over. The only thing left to do is celebrate true love.
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