It must be so hard, Barack.
I know you probably crawl into bed next to Michelle, after brushing your lips across your daughters' foreheads and pulling the covers closer to their sweet chins, and that you know how lucky you are that your marriage is respected in this country.
You wrap your arms around her waist, remembering your wedding day, how lovely she looked, and how gloriously her bursting heart shone through her eyes.
How your ancestors and community lifted you up to the world - you are a married couple! - and everything fell into place and fell apart all at once as you tried to make sense of what it meant to be married.