Ihave no idea what I would do, put in the same spot. Goodness, to be so close to it, to almost taste and feel it - to actually live it every day, but in the end be told I cannot have it.

Somewhere in my innermost brain, I am thinking I, too, would throw an absolute fit. Maybe, like them, I might even go to jail.

I have long wanted to talk about this with Sheila Schroeder, for whom there was little question that day in September that there would be handcuffs and jail.

Indeed, she and Kate Burns had told a Denver police commander what they planned to do and even told the commander of the arm bands they would be wearing just so there would be no mistaking exactly who was creating the ruckus.

They just wanted a marriage license, the same one I and, maybe, you have. Instead, they got a trespassing ticket and a court date.

The law is very clear on all of it: If you sit down and refuse to move after the 5 p.m. close of the Denver Clerk and Recorder's Office, there will be cops and paperwork.

If you happen to be two men or two women standing at the clerk's window seeking state recognition of your commitment, there can be no paperwork.

So why even bother with the latter, when all that will happen is the former? Sheila Schroeder did not hesitate with her answer.

"It is an unjust law," she said. "We want to change it."

The couple made the news Sept. 24 with their sit-in, done in protest of a 2006 amendment to the Colorado Constitution allowing marriage only between a man and a woman. A proposal to recognize "domestic partnerships" between same-sex couples failed in the same election.

"That was a huge letdown," she said. "And when it happened, we made the decision to protest in a nonviolent way to bring public attention to this unjust law."

She is 43 years old, an assistant professor of mass communications and journalism at the University of Denver. Kate Burns, 44, is a program assistant in DU's digital media studies program.

They were scheduled for trial on the trespassing charge Dec. 17. It has now been delayed.

They most certainly will be convicted, I argued to Sheila Schroeder. The law being what it is, it seemed a foolish waste of attorney fees, a possible $900 fine and any hours they might spend doing community service work.

Could my parents, she shot back, always eat where they wanted to, sit on any seat they pleased on the city bus?

She had me there. Pretty much all the government recognized for them back then, ironically enough, was their marriage.

And then she told me about her and Kate Burns. I'll let her tell it:

"I come from a very small town in northwest Indiana," Sheila Schroeder said, "a very Midwestern town with very Midwestern values.

"Three years ago, Kate and I had our commitment ceremony. Almost all of my family and all of my friends made the trek out here to celebrate with us.

"They set up tents, ran the barbecue for us and really pitched in. A true family affair.

"My mom, a staunch Catholic, had a conversation with Kate's mom on the back porch. 'We have two crazy kids,' she told her. 'I love 'em both, and here I am.'

"She and the rest of my family have done nothing but support Kate and me. That's huge. I don't think they ever knew a gay person before in their life."

But since then, Sheila Schroeder said, her family has been the greatest gift of her life. She truly believes her fight is a continuation of the civil rights era. Those in power, she said, are very reluctant to cede any of their power.

Yet over time, people slowly become open to change. Laws change, she said, "though it takes an extraordinarily long time."

"How do you throw out an oppressor?" Sheila Schroeder asks. "One step at a time. You do it with respect, dignity and integrity. I believe it changes people's hearts."

I ask her if she believes she will be around when the law changes. Sheila Schroeder begins to cry.

"Absolutely," she says, fighting back her tears. "It is an emotional question. If not, I will die trying."

Hence, the marriage license sit-in. And, she says, there will be no plea deals.

And good for them. I have written here many times that any loving commitment that two consenting adults make to each other is a good thing for a society and is hardly the threat those who wrote and those who voted for the law say it is.

Sheila Schroeder gets the last word.

"We just want our day in court to explain why we did this. We broke a lesser law to bring light to the denial of rights caused by a much larger one, the constitutional amendment, which time will show is a completely unjust law."