I will admit I am writing this out of jealousy. I never got married myself. It was one of those things that were never possible. Nonetheless I remain intrigued by the many marriages, remarriages, and non-married couplings that have entertained my family members.
When I was 24 I remember telling my brother-in-law, who is now no longer my brother-in-law, that I wondered why people to do it. Perpetrate families. 'There must be another way,' I told him at the time. He shrugged. 'Its one of those things that do not work but no one has found a better system,' he said.
I should say that although I have refrained from marriage, I have not refrained from creating a family. I felt driven to do it. I felt like a failure without children. And as a single parent I am my own kind of sterotype.
Neither did my spinsterhood prevent me from becoming a stereotype in all sorts of requited and unrequited love affairs. I yearned. I became jealous. I became angry and mean. I disappeared. I was cruel.
So I do not mean to be judgemental about other people's choices, or their ability to suspend disbelief long enough to enter into marriage. For I am sure my choices and my behavior in a marriage would be worse than theirs in all ways. But I have never been able to do it. It felt like beliving in Santa Claus, or pretending to be normal. I am too ironic for that sort of thing, and too ashamed of how ridiculous I become. No longer myself. I am sure this is why I no longer write fiction, too.
But I cannot help but be fascinated by the dramatic marriages of my nuclear family.
These are their stories.