You’ve often heard one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. The beginnings of our story are similar. It was a bitterly cold, wet, and dreary January day in 2019 when we’d agreed to meet for our first date. By any measure, the day was just miserable — the kind of day oracles of ages past would have said was a bad portent of things to come.

While Weston was dreading heading out of the house, Matt had just come back from hours in the rain and cold, marching in Charlotte’s MLK Day Parade. Wes snapped out of it. Matt took a hot shower and changed into warmer, drier clothes. When we finally met each other at Common Market in Plaza Midwood, our evening together managed to turn our days around for the better, bringing us smiles and laughter and jumpstarting a relationship that — more than six years later — is stronger than ever.

Just a few months later, we were spending so much time with each other — Weston spending most nights over at Matt’s — it was nearly like we were already living together. Valentine’s Day, when the label “boyfriend” entered our relationship’s lexicon, had come and gone. Matt had met Weston’s parents and extended family, spending our first Easter together. Weston had met Matt’s family, helping him welcome his newborn nephew into the world. We were planning our first big couple’s trip, celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Riots at WorldPride in New York City. A trip on a scale like this is a test for any relationship, much less one barely six months in the making. Through some trial and error, we passed. It was a magical, once-in-a-lifetime trip we shared in tandem — sealing not only our love and passion for community, but also for each other as we learned quickly and more deeply about our personalities, wants, needs, and shared interests and passions.

Weston and Matt at the NYC AIDS Memorial Park at St. Vincent's Triangle in Greenwich Village, New York, June 2019.

The weeks and months flew by. The ups and downs of any new relationship were tested by external challenges and a precarious living situation that had tested the limits of our patience. Loving endurance, compromise and compassion, steadfastness and commitment saw us through until we moved into our own townhome together — coincidentally, or perhaps not so much, on the first anniversary of our first date.

If the oracles had been given a chance to pronounce that miserable January day a bad omen, then our story over the past six years would have surely proven them wrong. The ensuing years have taught us both the truest meaning of love: self-giving and self-sacrifice… an unconditional acceptance and love that may not have been the storybook “at first sight” kind, but has nonetheless blossomed into an enduring, life-long commitment of mutual love and support.

Whether we’ve been together in Charlotte or Winston-Salem, or in New York, or in Draper, Boone, Balsam, or Guadalajara, or even thousands of miles apart on opposite hemispheres of the globe — our love has been the constant companion to our souls, and we are so happy and blessed to celebrate our wedding with you, our dear friends and family.

Weston: "One time, we were grocery shopping and Matt was looking down at an item he had picked up, and would have walked head first into a pole if I hadn't stopped him at the last minute."

Matt: "We had just moved into our townhome and Weston's cousin Colette had gifted us a vacuum cleaner. We'd left something in the bottom of this really long box, and Weston was desperately trying to reach it. The box was so big, it swallowed him whole."

Weston: "Matt nearly burned down the entire townhome while trying to fry a single piece of catfish."

Matt: "After this, I was forbidden from frying anything in our house ever again."

Matt: "During our trip to New York, we decided to take a walk through Central Park. We got utterly and completely lost. We stumbled upon two boys, barely high school age, who quickly but unsuccessfully tried to hide the apparently broken weed pen they were smoking. We played it cool, and they generously offered to show us the way out of the park if Wes would agree to get their weed pen working again."

Weston: "To my great disappointment, I was unsuccessful at getting their weed pen to work."

Matt: "Luckily, they still showed us out."

Matt: "Early on while we were dating, I invited Weston to join me at my church's young adults bar trivia night. He'd just gotten off work at the HIV prevention agency. He burst into the room, took a handful of condoms out of his coat pocket, and threw them up in the air like confetti to announce his arrival. This, apparently, is a defining memory of my church friends meeting Weston."

Weston: "Matt likes to pretend he doesn't fart in his sleep."

Matt: "Weston likes to pretend he doesn't snore."

Matt: "Less than a year into our relationship, I had to travel to Athens, Greece, for work. Weston and I were apart for 10 days. When he picked me up from the airport, he stopped the car dead in the middle of the pick-up lane, jumped out of the car, and ran to give me the biggest hug I've ever gotten."

Weston: "We were on the search for, walking, and trying to find the closest liquor store in Guadalajara, Mexico. Matt, who happens to be de facto navigator in our relationship (for the most part) took us through the most busted, sketchy, and filth-nasty open-air distribution center in the city. It seemed to stretch miles. Delivery trucks were being loaded, unloaded, coming, and going — and I thought we could easily be like one of those crates of plantains. Our guardian angels were a short woman and her toddler who meandered us safely to passage."

Matt: "It was one of the first times I took Weston to my church. It happened to be Reformation Sunday, I think. One of the hymns was written by Martin Luther. Weston looked down at the order of service, pointed at Luther's name, and looked up at me with his sly, sarcastic smirk, and asked, 'The heretic?!'"

Weston: "Matt is a wonderful cook and knows his way around the kitchen. I enjoy his cooking and enjoy cooking with him as well. But he can be a bit of a diva and likes his space in the kitchen, aka his domain. Little does he know, when we move into our quaint home, the kitchen is mine."

Matt: "Weston can happily and easily have the kitchen once I get my little garden shed in the backyard."

Set me as a seal upon your heart

as a seal upon your arm

for love is strong as death…

Many waters cannot quench love

neither can the floods drown it…

—

excerpted from

“Set Me As A Seal”

by Rene Clausen

from Song of Solomon