On this day 24 years ago I was heading towards the church at about 80 mph. Despite my hair stylist’s assurance that “you’re the bride; they’ll wait for you!” I felt it would be rude to be late for my own wedding and I really didn’t want my groom to think I was standing him up at the altar.
On this day 5 years ago in 2013 and then again the next year in 2014 I so desperately wanted to shout out, “Happy Anniversary to my better half. Looking forward to the next x years!” But I couldn’t.
Five years ago on Aug. 14, 2013 I found out my upstanding husband was engaged in a long distance emotional affair with another woman. A woman who, it turned out, was his cousin. We made the decision to reconcile but even so whenever our anniversary rolled around I would be overcome with sadness. I couldn’t tell everyone it was my anniversary and have well wishers wishing me a happy anniversary when it was a farce. My wedding vows had been broken. There had been another woman- a woman he at one point claimed to love, discussed a future with, sexted with. A woman who sent him naked pictures and claimed to be able to “envision a future with him.” How could I ever celebrate our anniversary again? I would fall into a funk which would last for several days.
I thought 2015 would finally be the year I was able to face our anniversary and be able to look at our entire history instead of a 3 1/2 month period. I thought that would be the year I could really celebrate our anniversary and focus on our future instead of lamenting the past. I had high hopes for December 10, 2015. Unfortunately on August 10th of that year I found out my husband was involved yet again with this woman he had once claimed was his biggest mistake, a midlife crisis. He told me he should have bought a motorcycle instead. He was certainly riding something. This time it transitioned into a physical affair. Pretty much one year to the day that our furniture was being delivered to our new house from across the country my husband chose to meet up with his cousin, Harley, instead of going on vacation with his family.
December 10, 2015 was the first “anniversary” I spent in limbo. My marriage was over. My life was blown apart. There would never be an anniversary to celebrate, to ignore, or to grin and bear and get through. I celebrated with my children. They were the best things to come out of that disaster of a marriage so I decided to do something to celebrate them. We went to Olive Garden which was, ironically, in the city with the same name as the whore’s city. My daughter gave me a gift, thinking it was up to her to make that day special for me now that her dad had relieved himself of such responsibility.
December 10, 2016, the second one post D-Day, I was working two jobs. I probably worked 14-16 hours that day. First at Target, going in at 2 am, and then moving on to Kohl’s and working 12-8. I just remember my feet throbbing from being on them all day, and me hobbling around the store, trying to do some Christmas shopping with my employee discount.
Last year, the third one post D-Day, still in limbo, I was in Louisville at a cheer competition. The mobster was supposed to be with us but thanks to CF snooping around on my Facebook page we were both wary of what he was up to so we canceled our plans. Instead of spending a fun filled weekend together, cheering on Rock Star, I navigated a huge competition hall by myself (first cheer competition ever as well!) and sat alone as I watched my daughter compete.
Today marks the first time I have officially been divorced on what used to be my anniversary. This year I went to work. After work I stopped at a store to buy lunch meat, cheese, and bread for Picasso, and picked out some ornaments. I have a holiday dinner tomorrow and we’re exchanging ornaments. I also picked out one to add to my polar bear Christmas tree which is in hibernation, one for my niece, and one for the mobster’s son and his wife.
I did my best to treat it like any other day. In fact, every time I had to type out the date instead of thinking, “Oh, that’s my anniversary,” I would tell myself, “It’s just another day.” And it is. I have a knack for remembering dates so they don’t ever really go away, but the significance is definitely fading. Even though this is the fourth one since I’ve found out my husband is a lying, cheating liar and cheater, it is the first one since my divorce. I think that next year it will be even more insignificant. It will be but a small blip on the radar, if it even registers. As always I’m hoping that the mobster will be up here and we can spend it together.
Here’s to more insignificant days.