CERTIFY MY LOVE

One of the vital tasks we saved for the day before the wedding was obtaining the wedding certificate. Without this, our wedding would not be recognized, by the state, that is. No one in attendance would care if we had a certificate that signified bureaucratic approval, but apparently our love would be meaningless, unless the state had its form on file. We could vow anything we wanted, but we would be nothing more than two people who exchanged some jewelry and threw a party. A wonderfully attired couple whose party was so mind-blowing in its seamless melding of theme, color, and spectacle, it would be recalled for generations in bedside tales.

Getting the certificate is such a significant moment in each and every to-be-married couple’s life that the state of Indiana has created a special line in the clerk’s office, down in the bowels of the Justice Building. The state also would charge us a reasonable one-time fee of $62, since we were considered an out-of-state couple. In-state couples pay $20. Either that extra $42 goes towards needless interstate bureaucracy, or local residents are taxed $42 for wedding certificate production and processing. That makes children cry at Christmas. In addition, they only accept checks from Indiana, because anyone who would opt to come to Indiana to get married smells of scoundrel.

Under the halogen bulbs of heavenly bliss, we made our way to the counter, where we were greeted by a pleasant lady who said, “Congratulations!” and whipped out a four-foot long contract to validate our love. We had to disclose our whereabouts for the past twenty years, all our blood relations, who gave birth to us, what names they went by, where they had met, and their reasons for conceiving. And since this contract was a bond of trust with the state of Indiana, they also needed to know what our intended whereabouts would be for the next six months in order to track us down, in case we tried to pass our bad Ohio checks to other local service providers.

The excitement of getting our wedding certificate was tempered by the reconnaissance we had to do—gathering all of the necessary information to make our parents accessories to any foul play we might do in the future. I will be glad to have our love officially on file in Indiana, the trusting state.

While we were filing our love, it was exciting to hear my future bride say she would be taking my name in some official context. I felt like I was really looking at my wife for the first time, and that was the best feeling. But I wish to state that, in no way, should the state of Indiana take credit for fostering such magical moments, due to its desire to create paper trails for all individuals seeking lifetime partnership within its state lines.
- Drew Lloyd
From "Will You?" to "I Do.": A Groom's Tale of Survival