Marry me?

If I heard those words tomorrow, I would say yes. 

I would share the news with my family first thing, calling home with tears in my eyes and a voice so excited my mom would have to remind me, "Honey, slow down and try to speak a little softer!  I can't understand you!" (Though she'd know, of course, exactly why I was calling.)  I would start planning the wedding.  Summer or winter, in a church or on a farm, here in New York or back in the Northwest.  I would draft a guest list and call together my girlfriends to go wedding dress shopping. 

I would say yes and celebrate and plan the biggest day of my life so far because I can. I can marry the love of my life whenever, wherever, and however I choose.  But many of my friends cannot. 

I have friends whose marriages and lifelong vows to one another are not recognized in every state.  I have friends who hope to marry someday.  If it were legal.  But it's not.  At least, not everywhere. 

I can't tell you the weight this puts on my heart, despite how light I've been the past couple months.  I am living the most wonderful love story right now, and I know that story will someday include a wedding.  But unless things change, the love stories of many of my friends will be missing that same milestone.  Because I'm straight, and they're gay.  And to a lot of folks, that makes all the difference.   But does it?  Really?  In my heart of hearts, I don't think so. 

Argue the intersection of faith and politics all you like, but at the end of the day, I still believe we are all equal, if not in the eyes of the government, then certainly in the eyes of God.