I am reminded each day I park my car that the pressure will never subside. A billboard from a storage company cries out to couples tying the knot: “IF YOU DONT LIKE GAY MARRIAGE, DONT GET GAY MARRIED.”It’s not the political message that’s killing me. It’s the marital Call to Arms. The pressure began on a subway platform the day our daughter Luna, 6, and her best friend, Jackie, 7, saw a newspaper with drawings of double brides and double grooms. New York State had saddled same sex couples with the same stress long available to everyone else – the pressure to marry. And they were starting with our kids: Jackie to Luna: Are your Mommies going to get gay married? Luna: Mama, are the Mamas getting gay married? Me: (Silence) Luna: Don’t get gay married because I don’t want to be the flower girl. Jackie: You don’t have to go. You can do a sleepover at my house. Luna (eyebrows gathered, arms crossed): Mama, can you please marry Mami so I can do a sleepover at Jackie’s house?