Publicly, I’ve neglected this space for many months. Privately, I still write in my version of a journal virtually every day. Since my last visible post, I’ve gotten a couple of haircuts, gone to Tahoe, gotten into the rhythm of a new job (as much rhythm as exists in all things pinteresting), irregularly taken my vitamins, ridden the bus, eaten many burritos, danced, and celebrated.

Celebrated several things, in fact. Most notably a birthday and a wedding, with me much closer to the altar than I had ever planned on being for the foreseeable future.

But it was worth it because I learned some things.

1. I am bad at paperwork.
2. I am glad I took a public speaking class.

Officiant. It’s a weighty title with more bureaucratic puffery than I imagined. For a few blissful weeks, I let myself believe the bulk of what I had to do was show up. Possibly shower beforehand.

Then I got to work. And then I gave up. Mostly, I worried I wouldn’t be able to write something I truly meant. But as it turns out, I believe in love, so it wasn’t that hard.

So what started as roughly three pages got chopped, pared, scrapped, rewritten, frankensteined, and ultimately read aloud in the following form (with a few last-minute notations on nonsense like canapés and vows):

Not to put the pressure on or anything, but we’re all - about 100 of us - gathered here today to watch you say yes. Right now. Or soon.

Right after I finish talking about how this yes isn’t so special. I mean, a wedding? Forget it, it’s a blink of an eye.

You said yes to each other on the first date. Even before the first date. Even before you realized you were saying yes to anything or anyone or how she looks when she reads, you were clamoring yes - with all and unreached parts of you.

You couldn’t stop yourself: I wonder what he’s thinking; I wonder what she’s doing. I wonder if she’ll say yes to dinner, to a movie. And so you say yes to risk, to fucking up, to heartbreak.

And every single yes thereafter means so much more. You say yes to each other’s bad taste in music. You say yes to the chick flicks and yes to videogames. To each other’s friends. To each other’s families. Misunderstandings and outright disagreements. Yes to the bad hair days and yes to the bad moods.

With a little luck and a lot of love, this will never stop:

You will always say yes.

You will say yes, you were right, even when you weren’t. You’ll say yes to the dishes, the garbage and the mortgage. You’ll say yes to forgiveness.

You will say yes to the belief that yes is greater than no. That the things you’ll achieve and the distances you’ll travel will be better and farther with this one person at your side. That you will help each other much more than you will hurt each other. And when you do hurt, for any number of reasons that people hurt, you will help each other heal.

And, remember, you invited us here to witness this yes, so make it count.

Say yes the way you wake up in the morning: with hope and intention for whatever lies ahead. Say yes the way you hold each other: entirely and passionately.

Say yes to each other like your whole life depends on it, because it might, and because you want it to.

It wasn’t grand and it wasn’t perfect, but at least I meant it - the real goal of any marriage, right? And I hope you’re having a beautiful time in Bora Bora, happy couple.