He stood outside the pottery shop, at the foot of the hill, next to the intersection. He was slim but not quite anorexic. His baseball cap was faded, spotlessly. I admire good grooming.
I approached the steps to the shop as he approached me with a clipboard. He spoke, “I’m from Yes on 1.” I smiled in happy acknowledgement. “I think I’ve signed all the petitions.” He didn’t have a petition and I kept right on talking. “The marriage equality commercials have been very effective. I think this time around we’ll win. Have you seen the Expedia commercial?” I went on to describe the YouTube ad, wiping a couple of stray tears off my face as I spoke. He took my name and contact information saying, “We have to use your energy, people will respond to it.”
“Let me tell you my story.” I took a closer look at his prominent cheekbones. I recognized his look. He loves his partner, his partner loves him. They don’t live in this state. They’ve been graced with an inherited, old, farmhouse here in the countryside. They spent idyllic summer vacations there with his partner’s family. They trust the local doctor. They hope Yes on 1 will pass. They want to be together in a place they love when the end comes. They need the law to protect them, to guarantee unlimited access to care for each other in sickness, the legal right to love each other until death parts them.
Equality is equitable for everyone.