Today was officially Day #1 of Attempt #2 without coffee. Not even a sip.
Today was also something else.
Somewhere in the back of my head it occurred to me that today was something that I couldn’t quite remember. October 4th. I couldn’t put my finger on what today was all day. This afternoon, when I scribbled the date out on a piece of notebook paper during a conference call, it finally hit me — It’s my un-anniversary.
And then I celebrated with a little un-anniversary happy dance inside my heart and a big peaceful smile on my face. Because I have now officially reclaimed this day in history as my own — by forgetting what it was in the first place.
Someday, I know, I will reclaim the island of Santorini too, the venue where the path to the un-anniversary began, with a “REDO” all my own. But, as I sit here tonight looking back on the miles in between the life I lived then and the one I have now, all I can think is you’ve come a long way baby.
Even still, I should have known then that something was amiss.
There were signs.
They could have been bright, neon, flashing signs and I probably wouldn’t have seen them. Like the fact that my nuptials began at sunset and the party didn’t end until sun up — even though there were just two of us, and even though I was begging to go to sleep, to return to the bridal suite, to get some rest because I felt my throat swelling and my sinuses starting to flare up — the first indication of a head cold.
Instead we were scooped up by some new-found island friends and taken out to a local restaurant and bar where a band and circle of dancing locals surrounded us, placing glasses of ouzo on our heads. I cringed at the thought of oozo dripping on my dress while my ex preferred the spotlight and moved to the center of the circle.
Just when I thought we were finally going back to our hotel room tucked on the side of the cliff, the Greek islander driving the makeshift bridal caravan announced we were going for a “roadie.”
“A roadie?” I asked with tired eyes feeling my throat getting hoarse and scratchy. He proceeded to describe the next bar hop stop on the “Road” home.
I looked up with pleading eyes to just go home. No dice. The car full of strangers — on my wedding night — decided that we were going on.
At the next stop, an open air bar, as I watched stray dogs run up and down the streets outside and my newly married partner dance the night away in the bright lights of a tiny island dance floor, I sat in full wedding gown regalia propping my head up on the table with my elbow, trying to keep from falling asleep and smushing my raw silk wedding dress into the beer stained sticky table.
By the time the first rays of sunlight hit the water, we finally made it back to our hotel room. On October 5th, I woke up with a full-blown cold and sinus infection.
I believe in promises.
That’s why I am keeping this one, to not shop and instead invest in my head, heart, body and soul — and to write everyday.
But, sometimes, some promises, well …they are just not meant to keep.
And, I think, now, being where I am and where I have been, true wisdom is seeing the signs and knowing the difference.
Oh, yeah, and one more thing:
Happy un-anniversary, to me!