The following is an excerpt from “My Last, Best Spouse” – a play by Raoul D. Luna.
A boyfriend was the last thing I was looking for. And Billy famously said that he was just looking for a fuuuh… oh, let’s just say, “something to do”. Which is why one ‘clicks on’ to those gentlemen’s websites. But there on that last page of “the men in your area” section, we found each other. We courted. We confided. In time, we married.
So just to get things straight, first we lived together, and registered as domestic partners, because we could in New Jersey, and with that we established our anniversary: the day before Thanksgiving. It’s the same day every year, difficult to forget and, with a little planning, comes at the start of a four-day-weekend. Next after a long engagement we made our happy union a civil one, with a ceremony… that required a guest list… on the busiest travel day of the year. Now, through the years we have been carefully constructing our logical family, to replace our bio-logical family. Billy’s “don’t call her a step”-daughter was there. As was her mother, who’s the ex-wife of Billy’s ex-radical faerie, past-life-partner… I’m getting off track but this describes the family that I was marrying into. Which I did. Two years later, once it finally became legal in a state just a day trip away. We found a reverend online and were married in Connecticut. In that order and as they became available: Domestic Partnership, Civil Union, Marriage. My mantra became – “I will. I do. I have. I did!” It’s all very confusing but we had to cover our bases. We weren’t trying to be political, just ahead of the curve. We felt like a couple of rogue boy scouts collecting merit badges… in homemaking of course.