I spent October 11th as the best man at my best friend in the whole wide world’s wedding.
At the wedding. Not in the wedding, because as is right, the only people standing up there were the priest and the two people getting hitched.
The concept of a female Best Man in a really fabulous dress and bright red shoes totally broke the photographer’s brain. When it came my turn for pictures, she moved from a full frame shot to head shots.
The ceremony was beautiful. The sun was shining, the food was good, the people– well, I hung out with the cool people and we celebrated the happy couple and their new life together.
It wasn’t until I got home, completely exhausted, pulled on a pair of sweats and started going through my blogroll, the first picture that popped up was of Matthew Shepherd. The next half a dozen also dealt with National Coming Out Day.
Suddenly, out of the blue, I was remembering my own wedding, six years ago. So private that it was just myself and my bride, in our living room, slipping rings on each other’s fingers Easter Morning before church.
That day, we promised each other that we would make it legal as soon as California made it legal. Six months later, her mother offered my wife a thousand dollars to leave me.
She took the money. And my Harry Potter books.
I finally paid off the bill for our rings in March of this year.