Thirteen years ago
I married a man, better
and worse, heartbreak, love.
October 15th is also, coincidently, National Pregnancy and Infant Loss day. If you scroll about half way down the saddest list that ever was, you'll see Brennan's name, submitted in pre-blog days. It surprises me every year but it's also oddly fitting. Not to suggest our entire marriage is anchored to this one sad event, but when you leap into a happy relationship, in beautiful sunny San Diego, with time, money, and thinner thighs all on your side, can you really know what will happen later under pressure? Can you be sure, really really sure, your significant other won't crack and run when the sky turns black and you can't swim for all the tears? We did not necessarily survive with any dignity, but the world kept on spinning, the sun rose, and we kept waking up next to each other. Eventually we laughed again, together. Some breaks really do heal stronger. I love you, Matt - Happy Anniversary.
Now please get your nose fixed so you stop snoring.