I am happy.
I am frightened.
I am worried.
I am hopeful.
I am happy because we can now get married. The lover I've lived with for many years is now my husband. For the first time in my long-term survivorship, I can allow myself to feel safe. Past a certain age, it is not about sex or drug-fueled dancing till dawn. It is about lying side by side as we sleep together after having kissed good night, knowing that we'll each wake up smiling and that David will make me his special scrambled eggs. Legally. Our bedroom can no longer be invaded by the police, which happened to gay couples in Texas not so long ago. The Internal Revenue Service can no longer gobble up my whole estate when I die so David can't get it, which happened to countless gay men and women before the Supreme Court declared that we are the same as straights.
For the first time in my long-term survivorship, I can allow myself to feel safe.