My anniversary is tomorrow.
Our anniversary is tomorrow.
Two years ago we were married.
I can’t look at the picture.
I can remember what I felt then
without seeing the look on my face:
That, for all the sickness between us,
in spite of being motivated to say
“I do”
by a need to give Alex some legal protection
from his father,
I realized as I held her afterwards
that I loved her
and that I had meant all the ‘forever’ words
I had just spoken.
It’s in my face in the picture,
and that’s why
I can’t look.
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