When I was a kid, there were three things of which I was absolutely certain: 1.) that I was a member of a highly intelligent alien race from another planet, put on Earth as part of a long-term research project to study Human behavior, 2.) that girls were squishy and they smelled funny, and 3.) that I was going to marry Hoss Cartwright, from Bonanza.

Well, turns out that Dan Blocker had died before I was even aware of who he was, but girls were still squishy and funny-smelling, and all this I would report back to my people when the mother ship returned for me…whenever that would be.

Clearly, I was a weird kid. Are all gay kids this weird? Maybe, maybe not. But that feeling of isolation, of being the only gay or lesbian or queer person in the universe, certainly makes for some interesting coming-of-age stories. These days, I know that my story is actually pretty typical—although I do get interesting reactions when I mention my early plan of a life of wedded bliss with Hoss. I guess being a superior alien life form, it never occurred to me that I wasn’t allowed to marry Hoss…or, later, Ben (from The Waltons) or Christopher Cross…or any man, for that matter.

As part of my ongoing research into Human behavior, I eventually grew out of celebrity crushes and on to the real thing. From silent crushes, I moved to dating…the wrong guy, more often than not. Then to living together, long-term—also with the wrong guy…two of them, to be exact. I lost faith in men, got it back, lost it again. Listened to a lot of Alanis Morissette’s Jagged Little Pill. In those days, we didn’t contemplate marriage; back then, we planned commitment ceremonies…then promptly abandoned them with each break-up.

Well, these days, we can call it what it is—marriage.

I met Darin in October of 2009, and he could not have been less interested in me. He swears he thought I was straight. (*side eye*) Well, I was scruffy and wearing a camo John Deere cap with a fishhook clipped to the bill…but I like to think the fact that I was fawning on him in a most illogical manner unbecoming to a superior alien life form should have tipped him off. He was having none of it…until March of 2010, when he sent me a friend request on Facebook. My initial reaction was one of complete bewilderment: why in gay hell was he sending me a friend request? The answer—to stalk me for the next month before finally working up the nerve to flirt…then to call me, on April 15 as I was doing my taxes…then to ask me out.

We went for really over-priced Thai food and to see the remake of Clash Of The Titans in 3D. The food was okay. The movie sucked. But he had blue eyes and dimples, so in the interest of my ongoing research, I was willing to continue seeing him. Then he cooked for me, and the decision was made—I was going to marry this man.

He proposed to me at my birthday party, four months later, in front of everyone I know. The ring was from Tiffany. There’s even a video of the proposal somewhere on YouTube. Originally, we set the date for November of 2011, but life got in the way and we moved it to October 2012. We’ll see. I want a Fall wedding, with leaves and pumpkins, and he was agreeable…until I mentioned having crows as part of the decorations and theme. That took some real negotiating, but in the end, I got my crows. We’ll probably disagree about music when the time comes, too. I’m sure he’ll strike down having Joan Jett on the playlist.

Or we may just run off to one of the states or countries where gay marriage is legal these days (Darin is from Washington, as a matter of fact), have a quickie wedding, then come back to Atlanta and have a party with friends. There doesn’t seem to be any real pressure to get it done, and that’s fine by me. Actually, now that I think about it, a London wedding doesn’t sound bad at all!