I have always been a hopeless romantic. Ever since the first time I saw Sleepless in Seattle when I was 6, I have tried to turn my life into one big gay Nora Ephron-esque rom-com.

Over the past ten years, as more and more states legalize same-sex marriage, I created an elaborate fantasy of how the day when Pennsylvania finally made this ruling would play out for me.

I imagined that as Marriage Equality was announced, my very serious boyfriend and I would sneak out of our offices to call each other to ensure we heard the amazing news. Euphoric, we’d make plans to come home and celebrate over a million Old Fashioneds and take-out from our favorite restaurant.

I’d rush through the door of our stylish yet warm apartment, plant the biggest kiss on his lips and we’d cry into each other’s comforting embrace. Once we collected ourselves, he would turn on the news to see more coverage of the ruling, as I would pour the drinks.

A few hours and many cocktails later, a reporter would announce that Philadelphia’s City Hall would have extended hours to issue more marriage licenses to any interested couples. We’d fall silent, look into each other’s eyes, and he would say, “Are we doing this?” Without words, I’d cover him with kisses and text everyone I love to meet us at City Hall immediately for our impromptu wedding.

In a whirlwind of giddiness and nerves, we’d put on our favorite suits and quickly restyle our hair, making concerted efforts to look our absolute best. As I would finish getting ready, I would notice him fussing in the mirror. He would be upset because he wished he took to the suit the dry cleaners after he wore it the last time and insist he looks terrible. I’d stand behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and tell him no human as ever looked as perfect.

As our eyes would start to well up again, I’d cease this display of emotion asserting we don’t have time for tears! City Hall will close soon!

We would rush out of our apartment and meet our family, friends and hundreds of other happy couples and supporters who, like us, decided to seize this beautiful moment. Standing in line, I would turn on my “Cheesy Love Song” playlist on my iPhone and like a true Bridezilla, demand some one make sure “Love on Top” was playing the moment we said “I do.”

We’d smile for pictures being taken by various friends and strangers. Later, they would be featured on CNN and Buzzfeed, where other gays would sit at the desks fighting back the tears as they received the same contented affirmation that love is real and anything can happen that I did when the other states gave marriage rights to all of their citizens.

When Judge Jones struck down the ban on same sex marriage in PA on Tuesday, I didn’t have a boyfriend with whom I could enact this fantasy.

Instead, I hugged my coworkers, g-chatted my friends, posted something on Facebook and joyously texted the man I’m presently dating (but without trying to imply I wanted to get married right now or anything.) After work, I went over a friend’s house and had some celebratory drinks and egg rolls. It was perfectly lovely.

Sadly, my Equality Day fantasy must be laid to rest. However, in its stead, new bolder, braver fantasies have started to replace it.

I’ve never allowed myself to think too deeply about married life. Once I get past the wedding song and buying our first home together, I start worrying about the ramifications of living in a state that doesn’t recognize our union. That anxiety and terror shuts down my imagination with a quickness.

And it’s not just me. I’m 26 and have never felt that agonizing pressure from my mother about when I’m finally going to get married and give her grandbabies like so many other straight friends my age. She and I haven’t said this out loud, but implicitly, I don’t think either of us believed I could have that life.

But I woke up this morning and realized that suddenly all of that, the beautiful wedding in a vineyard, the home, the joint bank accounts, getting on his health insurance, adopting multi-ethnic children could be ours. Without compromise.

So today and every day, I’m going to indulge my imaginative romantic impulses and fantasize about my marriage to Future Husband. I’m going to start a Pintrest board called “Fierce Gay Weddings.” I’m going to let myself dream about all the things I deserve to dream about.

This is an amazing time to be queer and it’s thanks to generations of people who bravely decided that being second rate isn’t good enough for any one. And while we have much more work to do, I’m going to throw myself a wedding reception in my heart and dance the Electric Slide all night long.

Now all I need is a boyfriend.