It was hot like today. With cotton blowing. Friends and family have died and divorced. My hair has turned gray. And two people now inhabit the planet. They make it worth every hair, every sleepless night, every worry, every scar, every expense. I like to think that we did it all for them.

Why marry? Because you will marry the wrong person. I had romantic notions that marriage was the goal, so when I reached 30 and 31 and 32 I worried that I never would marry and thus never achieve the goal. So the stakes were high when I met my future husband–or re-met him and looked at him as a potential mate instead of just my brother’s roommate. The thrill of connection, the joy of having someone to put my arm around…