Commitment vows, marriage vows interpreted differently

My friends are in love. Almost two years their love has grown and, as a consequence, they find themselves at a crossroads.

No surprise. Great relationships are in motion. They are growing forward or decomposing; standing still is just another name for going backward.

Neither wants to marry. She because she has lost faith in institutional religion, and thinks the government has no business entering into contracts with her regarding her love life. He precisely because he does believe in marriage. Once he gave his heart and soul to a woman in matrimony, but when the going got tough, well, his wife got going.

Divorce tore something loose inside of him. He just can't fail at marriage again.

They decide to create a ceremony of lifelong, exclusive commitment. They will gather with friends and publicly declare their intention to love, live and die together. They will exchange rings.

So, they come to me with a question: Will I write their vows? Will I be the wordsmith hammering words and sentences into beauty and power and promises ... but make sure it's not a marriage ceremony.

Well, I'm a writer. And a romantic. So-o-o ...

"We were made for relationship -- that, before we die, we might say we learned something of love, honor and constancy, that we might say we were known and cherished.

"It is not good for us to be alone.

"Our souls long for union, communion and intimacy. Yet what we crave, we likewise flee. So it is only with promises and our Maker's mercy that two people may find the courage to walk one another to the grave as mates, lovers and friends.

"We are gathered to hear these promises of love, to behold and lift up the man and woman who make them, and to give thanks for the gift they offer to themselves, each other and the world."

(And each shall say ...)

"I take you as my partner in life. I will love you when love is an effortless joy, pouring endlessly, like light at the birth of a star. I will love you when love is work and intention, each moment forged with sweat, character and courage.

"I promise to grow, to be wholly myself, yet never quit reaching for the best of that self. I will feed my mind. I will live my values. I will care for my body. I will be vital and alive.

"I promise to be accountable. Love me, yes. Forgive me, I pray. But make no peace with that within me which is small, selfish, petty or afraid. Let me hear and feel the strength of your unwavering self-respect.

"I promise to tell you the truth, always, as soon as I know it, even and especially when the truth is not flattering.

"I promise to nurture love: to touch you, and to touch you then again; to tell you I love you, and to tell you then again; to listen to your heart, and to listen then again.

"I will make the time and find the places for desire, and between those times and places remind you with words both generous and playful that you are desired.

"I give thanks for all that is your past, and for any who have ever loved and cherished you, for all of these things brought you to stand with me today.

"I promise to be a friend to your children, and to be an unceasing advocate in your life as a faithful father/mother.

"Laugh or cry -- I will stay.

"Victorious or defeated -- I will stay.

"Well or infirm -- I will stay.

"Thrive, live, grow old and weak, and still I will stay.

"Today I bind my life to yours. Here and now I commit my every word, my every deed, my every breath to the wish for your wholeness and happiness.

"So it is, and so it may be, until I lay my life at last in the heart of God."

My friends were pleased. They grinned, misty-eyed. They shared a deep, thoughtful gaze. I got "thank yous" and hugs.

It was fun for me. But a curious thing lingers in my heart and mind. I couldn't for the life of me figure out the difference between what I wrote and marriage vows. Except for the license. And the preacher or judge.

Yet I'm convinced that cohabitation is not marriage. Only marriage is marriage.

I'm saying I thoroughly enjoyed my participation in an exercise that, in the end, I didn't entirely understand.

Oh, and one more thing: They just broke up.

Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Clear View Counseling Wellness Center in Las Vegas and the author of "Human Matters: Wise and Witty Counsel on Relationships, Parenting, Grief and Doing the Right Thing" (Stephens Press). His columns appear on Tuesdays and Sundays. Questions for the Asking Human Matters column or comments can be e-mailed to skalas@reviewjournal.com.