Crazy girl, don’t you know that I love you?
And I wouldn’t dream of goin’ nowhere
Silly woman, come here, let me hold you
Have I told you lately?
I love you like crazy, girl
–Eli Young Band
Unlike normal people, Marie and I had multiple proposals. The first one was not planned and was poorly timed. It was on our four month anniversary. She had pressed me for details about something I was being evasive answering, since I was trying to figure out how to articulate it, and I joked her insisting on an answer was toxic. My sense of humor is questionable at best, and I sincerely thought she would realize I was kidding. Additionally, I was suicidal, so I was not thinking clearly—though I still feel that is inexcusable.
I didn’t realize right away what was wrong. My brother Hawk had come up to our shared room and found it necessary to rant about the Warriors cats for what seemed like an eternity. I sensed that Marie was becoming more and more upset, but I couldn’t get Hawk to shut up.
When he finally left me alone, I asked Marie what was going on. She was convinced that she had overstepped some critical boundary. I reassured her again and again that she was not toxic, but it was not working, and she was becoming increasingly unstable. I was desperate and she kept insisting she was in the wrong, so I eventually said I forgave her, which was stupid because I was the one who had made the idiotic joke. But I hoped it would help. It did not. Because saying I forgave her sounded like an admission that she had fucked up.
She said we should break up because she was clearly not ready for a relationship and was not a good person. I said I was not going to accept that if she said it when she was this unstable. If she broke up with me in a clear state of mind and when her emotions were under control, that would be fine. I would be miserable, but I would respect her choice. But I couldn’t let it end like this, with her convinced she was toxic and the end of our relationship was her fault.
She said we could just be friends, that she wouldn’t abandon me. But she admitted she was crying harder than she had in a long time. By then, I was crying too. I just wanted to hug her and tell her that it was alright, that we would be alright, that I was not letting her go or leaving.
She said I should give up on her. She said she would’ve given up on her a long time ago. I sent this text:
“Light of my life. My shard of light. My new dream. The one who scares away my demons. My darling. My love. My dear. The one I want to kiss and build pillow forts with. The one person who understands me. My match. The hope in my Pandora’s box. Future wife. Wife material.”
She was not receptive to words of affirmation. She admitted she was able to scare my voices away sometimes, but maintained that it did not make up for her mistakes.
She got worse, dangerously suicidal. I said, are you going to make me propose to you through text to show you I think you are worth it? She said she would just argue with me if I did.
She felt bad that I was crying, even though she was crying too. I said she was the best thing that has ever happened to me. I said:
“Gods Marie, I want to spend my life with you. Please let me. Please give me that privilege.”
She responded, “Gods that sounds like a proposal, you crazy girl.”
I said, “It could be.”
She reiterated what she perceived as a major red flag, and expressed disbelief that I could even bring up marriage, like “yes, marry me.”
I texted back, “Yes marry me. I am a crazy girl.”
She said she didn’t know why she was reacting to that like a real proposal.
It may not be fashionable or even remotely formal to propose through text, but I was sincere. I said, “It is a real proposal. And if you say no I will propose again in September. And again next year. And again.”
She decided I would need to propose in person in September if I was serious, and I agreed.
We stayed up all night talking, and eventually I was able to fully and properly articulate that she was not toxic, and had not pushed any boundaries. I explained that when I am being evasive about answering a question by saying “nothing,” it is not a closed door. It’s more that I need time to figure out how to put my thoughts and feelings into words, since I am better with written than verbal communication. And since Marie does not always realize when I am joking, I said in the future I would explicitly say when I am joking, which I believe I have done pretty consistently since then.
So…yeah, that is the story of our first proposal.
Post 68 in Socially Unacceptable: The Daily Life of a Queer Schizophrenic Wreck (2022–Present)
This is an autobiographical series about my life, something I have wanted to do for a long time. I intend to add new content daily.
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The Queer Schizophrenic 