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Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
On Halloween in 2007, surrounded by our loved ones, I married the man of my dreams in Las Vegas. True to the nature of our relationship, it was a costumed event — a pirate-themed wedding — and it was as merry, strange, and wonderful as a Halloween wedding should be.
Ted, I love you. You are the poetry in my soul, you are the dreams of my heart. You are everything I need, and I love you with a passion that transcends all time, space, and logic.
The aftermath of piratical nuptials: walls smeared with red and black frosting, copious amounts of spilled red wine, the leftover contents of three full bars, dry leaves and desert flowers crushed into carpet, tobacco smoke, and champaca incense in a cloud of body-heat amped Snake Oil and Dorian.
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