Once upon a time, there was a little boy with a dream.
He dreamed of love. A romantic love, in fact. Of love that transcended the ages.
He knew that his dream was not really all that realistic. It was a dream, after all.
But he continued to hope that one day he would meet the one person in the world who was absolutely perfect for him.
The one person who would understand his dark moments.
The one person who would understand his sense of humor.
The one person who would be the yin to his yang.
The one person who would love him back with the same intensity.
The one person who was meant just for him.
There were many dark years as the little boy grew up. Many years when he thought that one person didn't really exist.
Many false starts. Many times when he thought ... maybe? This time? Is this the one?
And many times when his heart was broken. Not just broken, but smashed to little pieces by a person who turned out to be much less than he thought.
The little boy is a week from his 25th birthday. Almost a year ago, that elusive "person" he was seeking appeared.
And he knows love.
Someone who understands his dark moments.
Someone who understands his sense of humor.
Someone who is the yin to his yang.
Someone who loves him back with the same intensity.
Someone who was meant just for him.
Last May, something happened that would open the way for the little boy and his true love to be able to get married.
Tomorrow, California voters will decide if that still can happen when he's ready.
As the little boy's mother, I want that for him.
I want for him and his boyfriend to know the joys and sorrows, the ups and downs, of marriage.
I want to dance at my son's wedding.