Fifteen years ago, Feng and I drove to Niagara Falls, had the world’s shortest ceremony, signed a few papers and grabbed takeout pizza before driving back to Toronto where we spent the night in bunk beds at the downtown hostel.
Fun fact—we outlasted the wedding chapel, it closed a few years ago.
It was not a glamorous wedding. I never wanted one anyway. Hell, I’ve just discovered Mark didn’t even know what “being married” means—that’s how much we value this weird social construct…
I rarely know where I’m going with my life or even where I am. But I’ve always known for sure that if I was going to live with someone, it would be Feng, this strange guy I first met in Beijing in 1999, joined two years later in Mexico for an epic backpacking trip, and eventually followed to Canada.
Through ups and downs, here we here, two very imperfect people living a very imperfect life.