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When I was in New York in August, I saw a dear friend, Michaela Walsh. She is a very particular person, as wise as she is honest, smart and especially poltically savvy, but more than anything a true New Yorker: she will say what is on her mind no matter what the consequences. One of the first things she asked me was, "Are you in love?"

Initially shocked by the question, I answered an ambiguous "yes," and moved on. Later in our conversation she brought back up the topic. I told her a bit about Thena, and at the end of my description, she asked what I like about her. I told her, I remember, "She puts up with me." Michaela turned to someone next to her and said something to the effect of "see how much he's learned."

I think about marriage. I think about it as an institution, its history and current applications (not to mention prohibitions!) make me fucking insane. Love is love, law is law; why you would want to make one more like the other is sheer absurdity. (I will come back to that point.)

So, naturally, I'm politically opposed to marriage. But there seems to be this drive, this compulstion within our collective unconsciousness that drives us towards ceremonially or legally endorsing a coupling between two people. Marriage is death, giving up.

The most probable source of this is the Judeo-Christian climate of our America. Marriage is historically a union made in front of God. But for us heathen secular humanists, is marriage really anything then? Is it no different than a contract? A legal agreement not to leave the other person? Do we really need these shackles? Take away God, and marriage just seems trivial.

But, more to the point: as Christie pointed out to me the other day, this urge toward marriage is really just a female thing (you may read "traditional feminine role" here if you're so politically inclined). I've heard countless guys tell me that they got married because either they married, or she would leave. There is this drive for women to nest, and marriage becomes associated with this phenomenon. And it's all or nothing. Nobody likes an ultimatum, and this particular one really has all the charm of Yoko Ono covering an Eagles song. "Hotel California."

But more than that it is absurdity, in the Kirkegaardian sense. It's a genuine leap into the absurd It is a commitment to the other person that I will be with you forever. FOREVER. "For Richer or for Poorer." "In Sickness and Health." "Until Death do we part." There's not a lot of wiggle room here. Taken on that regard, it's kinda scary.

I reflect on marriage, because one of Thena's main contentions in her justification for ending the fun, sordid little thing we had was that I wouldn't marry her. But that wasn't true. I refused to promise when I was unsure that I could provide for her, unsure of what the future would bring. But I intended to. And I used 2 years as a benchmark. I picked that figure since no relationship I have ever had has surpassed 2.5 of your human earth years.

If I could get past two years, I could feel good about saying "forever." For promising. I'm not the kinda guy to make a promise I can't keep. Even Nietzche believed that promises should be kept, despite his general dismantling of the spirit of Judeo-Christian ethics.

But now I wonder if two years is the maximum, not the minimum. After two years you marry or move on. Here's a home version of the game, good luck getting back in touch with all the friends you stopped hanging out with since you were in a serious relationship.

And it's not that I wouldn't marry her. I couldn't. I couldn't promise that I will be able to provide the type of life she deserved. So I tried to work as hard as possible to secure that future. I worked two, thre jobs. Buying her clothes . . . her makeup . . . her food . . . her rent . . . her beer. And, in more eggregious cases, her drugs. Aside from some of her more frivolous spending habits, I was happy to provide. I wanted to give her the type of life she deserved.

But, then I wonder if that isn't the true spirit of marriage; that I was already married in an very specific, more authentic sense, while she could understand marriage as nothing more than the big ceremony . . .a paper . . .a ring . . . cake . . . Uncle Peter drunk. In this sense she refused to marry me. She bailed. She went and shacked up with an ex-aquaintance from the bar (after dating two other friends of mine. Yes, that is one every ten days if you're counting). And in this sense it's not me who can't bear to be alone. It's her.

Yeah, I still hurt. I'm angry. It sucks. I would have had her back a week ago. But I'm fine alone. And although I did not intend to be alone, now I want to be alone. She intended to be alone, and ended up with her toothbrush at someone else's apartment.

And this makes me think about marriage, on this one month anniversary of Thena walking out unexpectantly. And also, about how I was right all along. And so was Michaela.