Matrimonial Malingering

Twenty-two years ago tonight I was on my honeymoon. In one way or another , sometimes more forward in my brain, usually further back in the recesses, this fact has been lingering around for several days. Monday would have been our twenty-second wedding anniversary. Technically, it still was the anniversary of the day we married, I just stopped counting at twenty. I don't feel sad, I'm well past the stage of mourning over the end of my marriage. This has instead become a set of curious facts, photos and memories that are a part of my history. We went to the Black Hills on our honeymoon. We spent one night in Hot Springs, one night in Spearfish, and one night in Rapid City. We swam at Evan's Plunge. The weather was temperate and sunny. There are snapshots of us at Mt. Rushmore in our shirtsleeves, smiling and squinting at the sun. I was sick the entire time. You can't tell from the pictures, I'm beaming. I was also running a fever, had a stuffy head, and was achy all over. How romantic. I took cold medicine that made me feel groggy most of the day and by the time it wore off I was ready for an evening of wining and dining. I had either a very bad cold or a mild case of the flu, but either way I felt crappy. On my honeymoon. If I had been paying closer attention, I would have realized that I was getting sick more than a week earlier. But the days leading up to my wedding involved having a few glasses of wine or a beer or two. I was busy celebrating! So when I felt crappy, I thought all it could be was mild hangover symptoms. Then when I woke up feeling really crappy the morning we were to leave for the hills, all I really wanted to do was take major drugs and go back to sleep. But we had both taken time off work and had planned this trip that was supposed to be fun and all about starting off our life as a married couple. I swear I offered to stay home and let him go and have fun on his own. I don't like being doted on and fussed over when I'm sick. I like to slip into a Nyquil induced oblivion and sleep until the nasty thing passes. So I went on my honeymoon and did my best to not be a party pooper. It seems ever so odd to look at the pictures from that trip. Remembering that I felt like crap but I look so radiant and happy. As it turned out, the marriage was to be an analogy of those photos. Something that looked nearly perfect from the outside but on the inside there was suffering. Pondering over this twenty-two years later it feels like I'm relating a story about someone else's life. But, alas, it's a chapter in mine. A chapter that I have come not to regret, but rather feel grateful for having experienced.