Have I been married?

Sofia was my first big love. We met at 21, when we were both in the circus. She opened me up, and taught me how to be honest. I was absolutely certain that I was going to spend the rest of my life with her.

After six years together, she went to Honduras and, within a week, fell in love. She dumped me by email, saying she had never loved me. They got married and had a baby. We remain friends.

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Anna lived in Sweden when I lived in New York. She stayed with me three times in a row, for months at a time, until the border-visa guy at the airport told her, “I’m letting you in one last time, but I’m putting a note on your record that you’re not allowed in again without a resident visa.”

We were in love and had been together for two years, but didn’t want to get married. We tried to get her a work visa, but it was taking too long. So we grudgingly found a marriage clerk, signed the papers, and didn’t tell anyone, not even our best friends or parents. We never intended to stay together forever.

After six happy years, when we amicably broke up, I finally told my friends, “Anna and I broke up, and by the way, we were married.” I loved how their impulse to say “congratulations” and “I’m sorry” cancelled each other out, for a wonderful lack of drama, like my favorite fable.

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Della and I had only been dating for a few months in New York City, when I suggested we take a trip to California. She said, “My parents would disown me. I can’t travel with a man unless we’re married.”

I was against it, but I was at a time in my life when I was trying to do the opposite of my instincts. So I asked her parents for her hand in marriage, and we had a wedding attended mostly by her parents’ friends. The next day, she was free to travel.

It was instantly clear we had made a huge mistake, and we broke up after a year. But then she found out she was pregnant, so we got back together for two really difficult years, then broke up for good. She’s the mother of my boy, and lives a few minutes away.

We used our marriage certificate to get residency and citizenship in India, Singapore, New Zealand, Belgium, Portugal, and UK.

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I feel like I’ve never been married, because I’ve never seriously committed to spend the rest of my life with someone. The two marriage certificates were really just travel documents, signed only for the authorities that required them.

I’m so thankful I didn’t stay with my first big love. I’ve had such wonderful relationships since then, beyond the ones named here.

Some of us want deep roots and stability, to live in the same place, with the same person, for life. I prefer variety, though I like the joke that goes: “I’ve slept with hundreds of women, and all of them were my wife.” That sounds nice.

In all of my worldly adventures, a real marriage is one experience I’ve never had.