It was raining when this came to me. I couldn’t, didn’t, shouldn’t get out of bed. I was never one for the idea of marriage – this we know. But I am one for other things, many things. I find it interesting, in ways I could explain for minutes and hours and lifetimes, that while I/we/you fight for marriage equality, we’re also fighting for a dream. A dream that not all of us will ever live, regardless of whether or not we are entitled to it. A dream that is only truly allotted to a select few. Sometimes chosen at random; other times, destined by a thousand prophecies. But we still live and breathe and search for the dream. Most days, I believe in something. Some days, I believe in the capacity within to feel something for someone. I can feel that willingness for it to be returned in true ways that may even satisfy the most concealed cynic that thrives in this very place from within. We’ve made it clear that we yearn for this now, our millennial batch of men and women who love men and women, for reasons that fundamentally matter, and for hopes that being official will make everything else real. It’s not mutually exclusive, no, but what I’ll keep wondering about isn’t paper or politics. And then they came down harder than the rain, wet and ragged.