And I'm kinda freaking out. Not because I don't want to get married (though I suppose I don't really believe in marriage), not because I don't love the woman, but because marriage seems so ... apocalyptic. We have all of these versions of ourselves -- we grow into and out of ourselves, we're different people at different times, we're different people for different people. But this wedding is so ... globular. All of these people from all of these moments in my life -- so distinct in my psychology -- emerging upon and into one another -- sharing this physical space (this non-psychic space). It so foregrounds the schizophrenia of the contemporary "condition" -- we wander, we live the moment of our wanderings, and yet, in vague ways, we overlap ourselves. This wedding is apocalyptic in as much as it makes real connections out of what had only before been metaphors of mind. It's a gathering of worlds of "self';" a violent moment of "the real." I'm not looking for congratulations. I have enough of those -- I'm fortunate. I am looking for stories of how/when others have been forced to confront the multiplicities of their identity -- how you dealt with it, what it was like, and who you became for it. Such that: "If Relationship George walks through this door, he will Kill Independent George! A George, divided against itself, cannot stand!"