It's been eight years, on and off, that Geoff and I have been together. The first year was romantic. We got to know each other in Kingston, the sunny little historic town by Lake Ontario in Canada. That same, romantic and sunny city turned to an icy hell in the winter, and drove me south on a roadtrip of unknown destiny with a friend in my trusty VW Rabbit. Boca Raton, Florida became our home for a few months. Geoff bought me a ticket to meet him in Jamaica so we added another chapter over a week. We flew out of the airport on separate planes, one after the other. I sold the Rabbit and moved to Japan.

The next couple of years: Geoff settled in my very cozy Japanese apartment and then took a cushy teaching position 5 hours away. During the second year we lived together (in that same, cozy apartment!). I left again, this time to trek around India, Thailand and Nepal. We met up again, returning back to North America with no plan, and decided to check out a job offer in the States. Wasn't meant to be. We shrugged our shoulders and decided that Vancouver might be a nice place to check out next.

3 years later we packed up to leave our west coast life. In those three years our relationship aged quite nicely. I have given up looking for a way out. Geoff is the most beautiful being I have ever met. He gives selflessly, and loves unconditionally. He is my best friend and most fun one, too. The things we have learned together have made us so tight that I want him with me always.

But get married? Why?

We never saw any reason for it. Surely we don't need an audience to profess our love? Or a starchy white dress to commemorate it?!

There must be some validity to the act. Throughout the ages, all cultures have performed marriage rituals of one form or another. We decided to check out how and why it's done. That's why we've circled the world. To find out what the big deal is, bring back meaning to our own ceremony in Canada, and share what we've learned with you.

The first time I realized Kiran was under my skin was in early summer '94. It was hot and muggy in Kingston. I didn't like to spend much time away from the breezes coming off Lake Ontario.

I was sporting a curly lumberjack beard which was starting to itch quite a bit in the heat. One morning I had decided it was time for the beard to go but hadn't gotten around to it. Kiran walked into my work and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Oh," she said with obvious disgust "You grew a beard." Kiran has never been afraid to voice her opinion.

"You don't like it?" I asked.

"I'm just not a fan of facial hair," was her reply.

I wore that beard for two more sweltering weeks so she wouldn't think I shaved it for her. At the end of two weeks I realized what I'd been doing and knew she'd gotten to me.

It was the beginning of a global game of tag. We chased each other around the world for two and a half years. Kingston, Canada to Kingston, Jamaica. Tokyo to Thailand. Nepal to North Carolina. We landed in Vancouver carrying incredible memories and a few tropical diseases. We were still trying to figure each other out.

When we reached that crossroads called marriage, it had taken five years and 120 thousand kilometres of planes, trains and tuk-tuks to get there. I was asking Kiran to marry me on a daily basis. She would answer yes only if I said 'today?' at the end of the proposal. She wasn't going to commit for longer than a day. That all changed when we'd been in Vancouver for a year. Kiran sat me down for Chinese food on newspaper tableware in an empty apartment. Our furniture was moved to our new place and we were celebrating feeling at home in Vancouver. Kiran surprised me by asking me to marry her without the standard one-day limitation.

As far as I'm concerned, we were married that night. Of course our parents and friends are looking for a bit of celebration; a ceremony. The quest for a ceremony and its meaning is how we came to be the e-Lopers.