Well, I really lucked into the happy ending I’d been trying so hard to convince myself was nonexistent. I mean, we were one rush-to-the-courthouse-on-the-back-of-a-moped away from this being exactly like the end of a romantic comedy. But, of course, weddings aren’t an end, but a beginning.
A few months after our wedding, we had our Green Card interview. Seeing as our marriage was real, the interview was a formality, but it was still terrifying to know that our fate lay in the hands of a government employee.
I’d expected someone in a suit or a uniform, but our case agent wore a tank top and a government-issued Windbreaker. Because Lau had lived in the country more than fifteen years, her case file was frighteningly thick, rising three inches off of the desk. We’d come armed with dozens of pictures of our time together, from our camping trip to our wedding, along with a printed screenshot of our Facebook page showing our status as “Married.” If there was any doubt, that would clinch it—people might move in together to pull off a fake marriage, but who would lie on Facebook?
The questions started simple—how’d we met, where’d we gone on our first date, what was our wedding like—but soon things got intimate. The agent leaned forward in her chair and looked at me.
“So how did you know Laura was the one?”
This didn’t seem like a question a government official would ask, but rather, something Oprah would pose to a guest. If only I’d had this book completed then—Read this and you’ll see the emotional and spiritual journey that led me to falling in love with Lau. It’s kind of like Eat, Pray, Love, but by a dude. Please give it a good review on Amazon if you like it!
I tried to summarize my feelings for Lau, but it’s hard to do that without sounding like a dumb athlete talking about winning the Super Bowl. You end up saying things like “amazing” and “hard to describe” and “just knew.” I could tell this boilerplate material didn’t impress the agent, so I dug deeper.
“I think, besides the general feelings of love, I knew Lau was the one because we were friends first.”
Lau squeezed my hand when I said this. Not in a that’s-so-sweet kind of way, but in a what-the-fuck-are-you-doing kind of way. When trying to assure an immigration agent you didn’t fake a marriage as a favor to a friend, it may not be best to mention how you started as friends. But I was going somewhere with this, so I continued.
“In the past I’ve had relationships where I thought it was love, but with time it faded and I realized it had just been attraction and infatuation, rather than a true connection. But I knew Lau well before we dated. She was a friend I valued. So when the romantic feelings came, it was a wonderful combination of romantic love and friendship, which is what I think truly makes someone a soul mate.”
The agent gazed at me as she formulated her response. Shit—was she not buying this? Had I screwed up so badly that I’d convinced her my real marriage was a fake marriage?
Finally she spoke.
“I hear that. You’ve got to have a solid base, because the other stuff fades. Mmm-hmmm.”
She nodded emphatically, making it clear she was speaking from experience. We were no longer government official and investigation subject, but rather two best girlfriends gabbing at the hair salon. Ten minutes later Lau was officially granted her Green Card.
As I write this, Lau and I have been happily married for over two years. Pretty quickly we abandoned the idea of throwing another wedding; it’s hard to dedicate the time and money required when you’re already married. Instead, for our first act as responsible, married adults, we quit our jobs and took a two-month honeymoon to Europe and Asia.
I’ve claimed to learn a lot of things in this book, but if I can impart just one thing, it is this: marry someone from Barcelona. We spent two weeks in Lau’s hometown on our trip and it was so choice. For the rest of my life, instead of going to, say, Albuquerque, to visit the in-laws, I get to go there. I will constantly be saying things like We just got back from such a lovely holiday in Europe. Holiday is what we call vacation in Europe. You simply must join us next time, old sport. Will my friends find this annoying? Sure. But I don’t care, because I’ll have better, tanner friends in Barcelona.
We still see Kurt and Evan almost every week for drinks, dinner, or brunch (Bros’ Brunch gained a gal). Kurt remains happily single, open to meeting someone, but not worried about it, and Evan is still Joanna-free. As he braves the waters of online dating I act as his consigliere, even when he hasn’t asked for the advice. (Approximately 80% of my advice is unsolicited.)
Grant is up the road in San Francisco, having settled with a wonderful woman after going on a journey of his own. He spent a year traveling the world, doing everything from drinking ayahuasca in South America to summiting peaks in Nepal. And he is now a Drug Spirit Guide to the world as one of the hosts of a podcast about psychedelics.
Brian is in Toronto, so we’re doing the long-distance thing. It’s hard, but he’s worth it. (Lau is amazingly accepting of our relationship.)