Sound the lutes and strike the harpsichord - a wedding cometh!

In the days of our youth, when the sun first cast its golden light upon our hearts, Chris and I did meet within the humble halls of junior learning. There, the tender bloom of affection took root, and we did court with the innocence of spring. Yet as the wheel of life turned, we were drawn unto separate academies, parted by duty and design. Still, Fortune—ever the mischievous mistress—did reunite us in the later years of our schooling, where once again our hearts did entwine. Time, that relentless thief, did steal us from one another, and we drifted as leaves upon the wind. Yet through the magic of the Book of Faces—a curious tome of modern sorcery—we remained faintly tethered, our spirits never wholly sundered. Then, lo! After three decades and more, the stars did align, and we found our way back to one another. In the month of September past, our courtship was rekindled, and on the second day of August, amidst the splendor of our maiden voyage upon the sea, he did kneel and offer his hand in betrothal. Thus, beneath the heavens and upon the waves, our love—long dormant—was awakened anew.