So, with tears on my eyes, I walked up to Marisa at work and asked her if she would come to my wedding for me.
And Marisa, a woman whom I love and would call one of my best friends ever in the whole entire world, promised me that no matter what might happen, that she would find a way to make it to my wedding.
The day came for our wedding, Cinco de Mayo coincidentally seeing as how I'm very mexican, and I was pretty fucking nervous but I think that I did a pretty good job of hiding it. Natasha looked beautiful. She was about five months pregnant at the time and she just dripped motherly beauty. Radiant. I've never used that phrase honestly until now. She looked radiant. A million people she knew, relatives and cousins and various whatevers, started coming out of bushes to be there for us.
And I had nobody. Not even my parents. So I called Marisa. No answer. I started getting worried.
We got to the courthouse, which is much bigger and nicer and more professional than I was expecting. I was also expecting to see Marisa there outside waiting. But she wasn't there. And I got sad. I don't have too many friends. I shut myself off from everybody else and I can be really quiet and introspective and asshole-ish, so I don't really have too many people that I can lean against. But Marisa has always been there for me. Like a sister with sexy feet and nice titties. And she wasn't there. I got upset.
We checked it and walked to the waiting room. That's when it really started sinking in that Natasha, beautiful brave Natasha, was the woman that I was going to spend the rest of my life with. No more dating bullshit. No more relationship heartbreak. No more stagnant "getting to know you" time. This was it. This was the beginning of the rest of my life. And to get into a position where you know that all that dating bullshit is gone forever, it fills you with happiness and joy and I found myself filled with this bright shining awesomeness ...
... which was immediately followed by sadness because my parents couldn't find time in their busty fucking schedules to come to their son's wedding. I mean, they can come down for my brother's birthday and they can come down, spend the weekend with him and drive him around town for his dart tournaments, but when I'm getting MARRIED all they can do is apologize. Over the phone. Coldly over the phone. Sorry, just can't make it. I can't get out of work and blah blah blah. WIth no feeling they told me they couldn't make it. I had nobody.
Natasha repeatedly tried to comfort me by telling me that her friends and relatives were mine as well and I know that's true ... but I wanted someone to be there for me. And nobody was.
Just then the door opened and someone ran in, knocking down a picture frame.
It was Marisa. She was in tears. She was crying because she thought she had missed it. And that made me cry. And I'm just tearing up writing about it. My parents coldly apologize over a phone without a whimper ... and Marisa, a woman I met through work, a woman who I am not related to, loves and cares about me and my wife and my daughter and my family so much that she would cry when she thought she might miss my wedding.
"I'm here on behalf of Steve's parents," Marisa said through tears. "I'm Steve's substitute family."
She was my witness. Her signature is on our wedding certificate. And Natasha and I got married. We held hands and we said "I do" and we put on the rings. We even had a ring for Emerald because, in a sense, seeing as how she is not my biological daughter, I was marrying her, too. I married two women that day and since then I have never been happier. My wedding was wonderful. It was amazing. It was moving. It was awesome. And my substitute family, Marisa, was there. She was there for ME!
That is why I love Marisa and why I am eternally grateful for her being in my life. And in my family. Marisa rocks ass.