Wedding Crush: From the Diary of an Arab millennial

I love weddings! I love the million and two dresses a bride wears one after the other throughout the evening. I love how tired the bride and groom get by the end of the night. I love the insanely-large portions of food served by the hour. I love how everyone makes a great effort to express their happiness in all possible ways. I love the wedding pictures, the sleepy kids who never get to see the end of the party, the band that is too loud for the sound system. I love being introduced to my own ridiculously-large family, and I also love sneaking out with the boys for a drink or a smoke. It was just another family wedding, with all of the above. My cousin was getting married to her boyfriend after a five-year relationship. We all like him very much- much more than we like her, if I am staying honest. I wore my fancy black gown, for which I was scolded; as it is considered to be not a “celebratory” color. I had my hair up in a careless bun, and my feet crammed in shoes too pretty to complain about. I looked drop-dead gorgeous. I had a champagne bottle in the trunk and three cousins to split it with. It promised to be a memorable night. After the bride’s second outfit, we were all starting to get tipsy. My bun was gone, my shoes went under the table, and I had my brother’s tie around my waist, as I danced my ass off to songs, though everyone thought I was too “westernized” for it- whatever that means. When dinner was served, I acted like that drunk hungry person. I looked over at my cousin and he was literally elbow-deep in his dish. I laughed so hard I had fish coming out of my nose, by then my parents were practically denying any relation to me. That’s when she came in; a gorgeous short brunette with a sparkly dress and some lipstick on her teeth. Can you believe it? The most beautiful person in a party decided to step in the moment I turned into a puddle of rice in a gown! What kind of luck is this! I turned around to see if everyone else reacted similarly in her presence, it sure seemed to. She sat with friends of the groom. So we’re not related- score! I couldn’t wait to corner her in the ladies’ room to tell her that there’s some lipstick on her teeth, and to then offer to wipe it off for her. I immediately texted my boyfriend that I had found my new crush, and he acted like he cares for like six texts, before asking me to get him leftovers. How do I do this? How do I hit on a same-sex person in public under the noses of my very intolerant family members? How can I know that I even stand a chance with her? Fuck it! the champagne is almost over and I’m getting drunk even more: I’m gonna go talk to her, I decide. Out of nowhere, I gather my courage and grab her to dance with me, whispering in her ear about the lipstick stain. She seemed embarrassed and smelled, well, let’s not kid ourselves, the place was boiling. I didn’t mind, I liked it. She wasn’t much of a dancer but she didn’t need to be, I was shaking it enough for her and ten more. I took a selfie with her and asked for her name as if to tag her- score! I woke up next to my brother who was almost as hungover as me and we went for a drive. He teased me about my new crush, which reminded me to check her profile out! Oh no! She’s in a relationship. With a boy. Oh misery!! I didn’t think much of it. Another unavailable crush! Another straight I fall forl impossible for anything to happen between us. I got over it, rather quickly. Oh well, I tried, I put myself out there. This was about a year ago. But last night, I ran into her again! I bought her a drink and we had chicken wings. She was a blast to be around, she turned every head, just like she did during the wedding. And just when I thought she is way out of my league, she asked if I wanted to go home with her. We had amazing sex! and now I’m grateful for the lipstick stain!