“Would you like me to take a picture?” J offers.
“It’s okay,” Andreas says. “We’ll remember.”
J lifts his guitar out of its case, stands to the side.
Elin begins. “It is my honor and my pleasure to be here to recognize the love of these two people as they garner legal recognition for a love that goes far beyond this ceremony. Andreas and Kerstin will first regard each other, and then each of them will reflect. This regarding and these reflections will act as their vows.”
Elin then closes her eyes, as if leaving the room they’re all in.
For a minute, maybe two minutes, Andreas and Kerstin hold hands and look at each other. J doesn’t know whether he is supposed to close his eyes or not, but the couple doesn’t seem aware of him at all, so he keeps watching. On Andreas’s face he sees many emotions unfold: A smile of recognition; an intensity of purpose; a sigh of admiration. A wonder. And tears, tears in his eyes. Gratitude.
Without any discernable cue, Kerstin says, “This is it. You and me.”
“You and me,” Andreas echoes tenderly. “Near and far.”
“High and low.”
“Easy and hard.”
“Good and bad.”
“Old and new.”
Kerstin smiles. “You and me.”
Andreas smiles back. “Yes, you and me.”
Without having to be told, they kiss.
Elin opens her eyes and applauds. J applauds, too.
The kiss doesn’t end as much as it pauses. The couple turns to J.
“I believe you have a song?” Elin prompts.
“Oh, yes,” J says.
He sings.
Everyone I tried to love
Sang the same old song
A choir of “why don’t you love me’s”
Drowned out my own voice until it was gone
Every “I love you” was a question
It was loaded like a shotgun
But with you
With you I can hear my own voice
With you I can hear my own heart
With you I can hear what it wants
