Our wedding anniversary wasn’t ever that big of a deal – to me anyway. Granted, we only celebrated two of them, but I can’t actually remember what we did last year. I suspect we either got sushi, or went to the Brewhouse, but I can’t remember. We had planned earlier in the year to celebrate at the Catbird Seat, but with hospital bills and such we didn’t have the money last year. This year was going to be better. This year we were going to make reservations.
October 1 2010. It was a very pretty day. We took our marriage license to the county clerk’s office, had to sign some papers and pay some money, and John Arriola himself married us. Then I think I texted a couple of people, and we went to Siam Cuisine for a celebratory lunch. I don’t even know what we did the rest of the day, other than go home and luxuriate in each other’s company.
Dawn sent me the nicest email this morning. Sure it made me cry, but what else is new. It’s so, so easy for me to have these thoughts – why did Matt manage to stay alive without me so long, but 5 years after meeting me he decided he couldn’t do it anymore? If I hadn’t ever met him, would he still be alive? He decided that he wanted to get therapy BECAUSE OF me. FOR me. He didn’t want to fuck up our marriage, and that’s why he decided to go back to therapy. So it’s plausible that he might still be alive now if we had never met. But Dawn wrote to me about how happy Matt had been with me. And other people have told me this too – as if I couldn’t see it myself (because sometimes I can’t). We were BOTH happier than we’d ever been in our lives.
And it’s all over now. The best that I can do now is try to salvage the horrible, horrible situation. Somehow I need to take all the love and happiness that Matt gave me, and use it to better myself and to help other people. I am such a selfish person though.
I have no idea how I’m going to “celebrate” today. I can’t come up with anything that I want to do (except be with Matt). I might just go home and sit on the floor and cry a while.
No Promises This Time 