Ten years ago today, Arnon and I were secretly married by a judge in a small room attached to a court house in Martinez. It was a confidential wedding so no witnesses were required.
I remember very little about that day, and I have no photos to reminisce over as none were taken. But if I were to piece together an image for you from the fragile threads of my memory, you would see a young woman with waist-length hair and bows on her shoes, holding hands with an even younger man and gazing into his teary eyes as he promised her the world.
