Today should be the celebration of my 11th wedding anniversary. This day was always special as I would look back on my decision to marry my wife with pride and joy. I used to sit back and think how this day confirmed that I had maid the right decision. This year, I am reminded of just the opposite.
This day was once the most special day of the year for me. It was the mark of the beginning of my own family. The day that I showed my love for another by placing a ring on her finger symbolizing the everlasting love I had for her in hopes of being together for all time. It was to be a monument in the family tree where my descendants would look back and behold our union as the beginning of something great.
Now this day is more like a pariah. A reminder of what was, could have been, and in many ways never was. It is no longer joyous, prideful, or celebratory. It is embarrassing, shameful, and painful. This day has been proven to be a farce. It was make believe in my own mind. I was playing house. Eventually, my wife had to go back home.
I no longer have to concern myself with what to do on this day to show my love and appreciation. I no longer have to arrange for child care. I no longer have hopes of making love throughout the night to as the cherry on top to celebrate my union. I am no longer looked upon by others for strength and as a resource for marriage. It's over. I thought of being facetious and sending a "Happy anniversary" message to my wife. My better judgement retarded that thought. After all, this day doesn't mean a damn thing now.
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