"Love is like a secret kept between the sun and the moon, a secret kept at the edge of the universe..."

It was indeed a time like no other, some ten Christmases ago. She had crossed the sea in search of a new life, the very seas he used to look upon and wonder what lay beyond them. Their paths eclipsed when they were teens, yet neither was versed in the language of the other, and so they spoke with little more than shy glances. Even so, she took the bus to school, and it always stopped outside his house. He often wondered about her. Then came the years in which their paths diverged. His muse was Art; hers was Law, and for a time they were parted, each in search of the means to pursue their craft. She loved films and stories, and he wrote music for them. And many nights, he would look up at the moon, and wait. There are not many places for a penniless writer to go, if not home. He soon learned that there are many long and winding paths which lead there, but the fastest way is to go all around the world and end up back at the same place. As it happened, so too had she returned to the place they met, and this time they had the courage to speak openly to one another. Many things transpired which may seem to the outside eye of little consequence, yet therein are contained many of love's mysteries. Yes, they began to share their love of film, of stories, of music with one another, even their popcorn—in a manner of speaking. Once upon a cinema screening, she offered him her popcorn, but being a polite gentleman he refused seven times. The week thereafter, he could not sleep for fear he had offended her. Neither could she sleep for worry he thought her too stubborn. When next they met, both apologised: and they laughed. At last, when all hope seemed lost that he would ever learn the secret, a strange and uncertain faith came into his heart. He thought then one Sunday morning of his brothers—those brothers who had saved for him a place in Heaven—and knew what they would say if they could. There was happiness before him; there was the love of which he had written and yet never tasted. There she was, and even in the daytime there was moonlight in her eyes... Three years have passed since that fated eclipse, and they say the sun and the moon are no less tightly embraced than on that day. Of course, that is not the whole story. There are no words which can do justice to its entirety: you have perhaps felt the same when describing a dream to someone. So it is with this. If you do not know what it means, then I cannot hope to explain it to you; if you do, there is no need for explanation. The tales usually end with many days and nights of merrymaking, and that is why you are here. We cannot know how long the ever after will be, but it will be happy and merry. Join us as we set in ink the story so far, and witness the union of our lives as we vow forever to keep the secret betwixt sun and moon.