Tomorrow is Here Again… And for One More Year… Things Get Personal.

I knew it.  I just knew it.  Even after last year… once again… today is December 30, 2011… and tomorrow is here again.

I wish I could figure out a way to make that particular “tomorrow” disappear.

You see… I am stuck.  Stuck in some sort of a Star Trek time loop.  Or maybe a better comparison would be what happens in one of my favorite movies… GroundHog Day.

In some ways… waking up tomorrow is a once-a-year kinda thing.  But in many other ways, it seems like it happens every day.

I know.  I am talking nonsense.  At least up until now.  But tomorrow is the anniversary of my wedding day.  New Year’s Eve… 1965.  My childhood sweetheart and I got married.  The two of us… 21 and 19… had known each other for eight years.  Eight years since that day we met. 

Is being 13 and 11 too young to fall in love ?  We thought not.  Way back then… Paul Anka had a song on the charts called “Puppy Love.”  Of course, it was all about young love, how it feels, and how so many others saw it as childish.  But we knew better.  We knew it was the real thing.  We really did.

And so… beginning with December 31, 1965… and every New Year’s Eve for the next eighteen years… we lovebirds were just that.  Lovebirds.  Right up until we weren’t.

Adultery raised it’s ugly head.  The cheating, the sneaking, the disguised meetings.  Somehow it all escaped me.  Somehow I had no clue… until I stumbled upon it.  There they were… my childhood sweetheart… and my best friend… boinking.

Recently I saw a story about Sandra Bullock.  Her short-time hubby had been cheating on her.  And when she found out… she filed for divorce.  And since then… she has used two words to describe herself. She said she felt “permanently broken.”  I have used those same words for years.

It is so funny… the ironic kind of funny… that when someone shares with me that she is feeling the same kind of reaction… when she is beating herself up in much the same way… I can be so very understanding… so very able to listen, to console, and to be there in a sisterly way for her.

But for me… the same things don’t seem to work the same way.  Permanently broken.

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