Novel idea about mental illness. He was missing a bottom lower tooth when we met. I was a long way from home. He had a far-away look and his leg nervously shook up and down. We were both apart from something that was like emptiness. We could talk easily and I learned he had a bachelors in English Literature. I had an art degree but always liked making jewlery better. He was 25 and I was 23. I was a heavy girl with an underbite and downcast eyes, he was a bit better looking but something about his character implied weakness not just vunerabilty. He had a mental breakdown at 17 and his wealthy mother had been doling out cash and various supports ever since to compensate, I would later figure out.
We started walking around a large park in the evenings as he had learned while in a local mental hospital during afternoon exercise sessions. He would entertain me with stories about a friend he had made in military school who had become a drag queen. I felt like he was the first person in my entire life who wouldn't judge me for things I had no control over it seemed. I never loved him in a romantic way. I would soon learn that most marriages are for many reasons other than love, escape, society, loneliness, finances, common interests, passing sexual attraction, yet, it all started over mutual stories about drag queens. We both needed each other somehow. He mentioned that he heard voiced other people don't hear and if that bothered me as I knew that was crazy and I had them too.