reader, I

married her.

It's (I think) the amended beginning of the last chapter of Jane Eyre. I never thought I'd write that. For the record, I never thought I'd write,"Reader, I married him." either.

When I was straight, I could never see being that tied to anyone. Once I became a dyke, my relationships never lasted long enough or felt durable enough to be a marriage, regardless of the whole legal problem.

But today I married Laine Anne Snowman at the Alameda County Recorder's Office. I thought that it would just be a commonplace sort of thing, like getting a driver's license. The office has it all down. You fill out the paperwork on a computer, sign it when it's printed, and give them a check. Then they whisk you upstairs to a very nice room and someone in the office marries you and it's all official.

Two friends, Vanessa and Susan, came to be witnesses. They brought champagne and flowers and were the best witnesses ever.

I cried saying the vows.

If Jane Eyre had been a real person, I bet she cried a little when she wrote that line, despite her practicality and strength of will. Because this marriage thing is larger than you think and deeper than you expect.

Everyone should get a chance to choose it.