On Weddings And Black Holes

Ashley and I got married young.

Just twenty-one, and still a year away from graduating, we hardly knew what we were doing.

Having no idea what we’d discover on the other side of that line, we crossed it swiftly, and without question.

The literal act of crossing was… strange.

*  *  *

When you cross the event horizon— when you pass into a black hole— there is no signpost alerting you of your achievement.

Once I crossed the equator. It was anti-climactic. But at least there was a signpost.

I don’t know what I expected… A humming sound, perhaps? A shudder?

But no; there was no sensation. The place was like any other. Had it not been for the signpost, we wouldn’t have thought twice about our surroundings.

It was the Equator.

We said hello, and then, we bid it farewell.

*  *  *

It is said that a pleasure is full grown only when it is remembered— that an experience and the memory of that experience are one and the same, neither being sufficient.

So it is with marriage.

The line is crossed, the thing experienced, at a single moment in time.

We call it a wedding.

But no matter how different the two territories are, at their border, they seem rather indistinguishable. The Northern Hemisphere is nothing like the Southern. Europe is nothing like Asia. A forest is nothing like a desert.

And yet, there must always be a point where one has only barely ceased, and the other, only just begun.

*  *  *

They tell us we draw closer to the event horizon.

Each day, they tell us, the singularity is nearer.

They told us the same over the course of our engagement, over the months leading up to our wedding.

They were right, of course, as they may indeed be now. I can’t say for sure— though, neither can they.

I can only say this…

If they are right, and if such a divide is on the horizon, it will, in a sense, be much like marriage. We can warn and we can instruct. We can advise and we can study.

But we cannot be prepared.

For some things can’t be known by merely studying them from a distance.

Some things can only be experienced.

And if, like a black hole, we aren’t just moving toward this point voluntarily— if we are, rather, being drawn to it— then what, really, can we do?

I don’t know. But, then again…

I’m not so sure I need to.

Photo Credit: Madalena Pestana (Creative Commons)

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