BILLYCORGAN.COMの「the Confessions of Billy Corgan（ビリー・コーガンの告白）」が更新されています。MySpaceにアップされているものと同じです。前の続きで、かつての奥さんについて書かれています。
I start to feel like this is all another gig, but unfortunately one I cannot control or stop or smash my guitar to let out the built up frustrations…I am now playing the role of ill-fitted husband-to-be, and the reality of my decision to get married suddenly transfigures into the reality of actually getting married to someone, and that is a far different concept…in my mind, I figure at least I am getting married to the right girl, the one who is in my heart…
The judge shows at 4, his wife in tow…he is a retired judge, ‘off-duty’ of course, who makes some money on the side performing non-denominational weddings…instead of apologizing for being late (the expected thing in my eyes), he launches into a full description of the uncomfortable colonoscopy he just had and how this has him running a bit slow (not exactly what I want to be thinking about as I take my vows)…he plays the role of The Judge to a tee; gruff, amusingly impersonal, and calling out the shots to no one in particular as he moves through the crowd (“let’s get this show on the road!”)…guests spill out onto the front porch and out the back door because the house is too small to accommodate everyone inside, so only the closest relatives are nearby for the actual ceremony…the house has no air conditioning, so everyone is sweating bullets as the hush starts to goes over the crowd…2 friends are videotaping the affair, my step-mother’s husband and Hippie Bob, one camera from the throng assembled, one camera over by the stairs…I get into my designated spot, which is just next to my baby grand piano, with the window to the street just over my shoulder…the oohs and ahhs cascade down the stairs as Chris starts come down, resplendid in her white gown and as beautiful as I have ever seen her…
My head goes numb as the priest doles out the words, and I can’t hear a thing he is saying…the commitment of the moment overtakes me, and I well up inside with emotions indescribable…I am taking the biggest leap of faith I have ever taken in my life, and I am not sure how I feel about that, but it’s flames consume me and I am now on fire with life and love and possibility…I open my mouth and the words “I do” tumble out like rocks, and when I look at Chris as she mouths the same, but she looks like she is a million miles away from me, her eyes glassed over, her being somewhere else…she is not very good in front of a crowd, and I feel like she has disappeared somewhere inside, away from all of this pomp and ceremony…if there ever was a time I needed her to be present with me and for me, it is right now, but I can’t find her…the judge says “you may kiss the bride”, and I do, a moment out of the fog I am about to go into, and I just say to her in her ear over and over, “we did it, we did it”…I know I have made a mistake, but I don’t care as the tears roll down my cheeks…I feel very alone…
Afterwards, congratulations start and hours seem to pass in well-wishes…when I finally catch a break and head towards the catered food, it is all gone, every single morsel, none of it having been saved for the bride and groom…upset and hungry, I head to the porch, summer dusk settling in, and spend some quiet time with a high school friend, someone I had idealized in my teenage years as the perfect girl…she has the raw beauty of a movie star, and the cool grace of someone who is born beautiful but doesn’t seem to care…she asks me how I am feeling in the secret way that says “you don’t look alright”…I confess I am not sure what I have just done, and tell her back in the same secret way that I am glad she is here with me on this day, because she understands my dreams, even if she will never be a part of them…
As nightfall settles in, the house cools and the party gets started…my mother has finally calmed herself down, taking the kitchen and the back porch area over in order to do her best to avoid any contact with my step-mother, insuring she has an easy spot she can smoke virtually non-stop (there is no smoking allowed in the house)…the different camps divide peacefully, step-family holding court upfront by the porch, father’s family in the middle rooms, and Martha in the back, her dominion intact…my mother has hired a bartender from her local pub to pour drinks, so she is, as always, in her element…
I transfer back and forth between camps, barely seeing my new-bride as we work overtime to talk some with everyone…heading towards the kitchen, I see a man I do not recognize, but whom I immediately figure to be a friend of my mother’s boyfriend…he asks me if he can take a picture of me, and without hesitation I say “sure, no problem”…he is obviously drunk, but that is nothing special at this time of the night…he asks me if I can sign the picture he has just taken, and then it hits me…”who are you?” I ask him…”why, I’m your neighbor, and I want to get an autograph for my kid”…I tense up and blurt “who invited you here?”…””why nobody did, I just figured I’d come down and join the party, I mean, you’re a big celebrity and all and I wanted to be able to tell my friends I got to go hang out at a big celebrities wedding!”…this is all too much, this blatant invasion of one of the most sacred moments in my life, and the absurdity of this guy in my kitchen becomes the knife of all my hatred of the world of appearances and the entitlements of strangers…”Get out” I command him, almost under my breath…”What? What’s the big deal??” “Out I say, out, out, out”…a relative who knows where this is going to go just by the attack posture of my body saves me by escorting the gentleman swiftly out the door…as he goes I can hear him protesting along the way that he “didn’t mean any harm” and “what’s the big deal, aren’t I cool enough to attend the rockstar’s wedding?”
The party is pleasant and anti-climatic, and when all the guests and friends and family finally gone home, Chris and I decompress some of the tension of the day by cleaning up a little, happy to have our home and our life back to ourselves…the hour comes and it is finally time to go to bed, so we head upstairs hand in hand for the first time as husband and wife…she is beautiful, my wife…a sweet soul, whose entire demeanor is that she doesn’t want to hurt a fly…when we join together, it is as close as I ever feel to her lost heart, because normal everyday life just overwhelms her…I slowly take off her dress, laughing, and we kiss tenderly in a moment that only happens once in a lifetime…and I feel her closer than I ever have, and ever will again…
A couple of months before the wedding, Chris had informed me in a passing moment that she was not going to change her last name…when I had asked why, she had said that she was worried her family name was going to die out if her children did not bear her name…she assumed I would have no problem with this, but in all reality it bothered me immeasurably…maybe if she had changed her name, I might have taken a different possession of her and her being and her life, and she of mine…but standing out here on the top porch, me looking at the dim stars, and her asleep inside, I realize nothing had really changed at all…
Copyright 2005 Billy Corgan. All Rights Reserved. Do not do reproduce or publish in hard or electronic form without written authorization.
