Three years ago today was an identical June day. Sunny, warm, with a light breeze. And I got married.
But I can’t say that today is our third anniversary.
It was really over within six months. Officially over before the second anniversary. And close to being legally over now.
Surprisingly, I’m not blue. I had a normal, productive work day. Made progress with school work. Rhumba-ed, cha cha-ed and samba-ed the evening away in dance class. Grilled up a thick, juicy burger to enjoy on the balcony with an episode of House on Netflix. (Laptops and earphones are wonderful things.)
I will always note the date. It’s just like noting the date my brother died. That odd feeling when I see it as the date for an event, or as the expiry date on a carton of milk.
But I must be getting somewhere if the day has come and gone mostly like any other.
Here’s to summer and burgers and turning corners, one step at a time.