Today marks eight years since Hubby and I got married. I almost let it pass by without acknowledgement in this space, but it didn’t seem right to me. I’ve written just about every anniversary you can imagine here, and I couldn’t let this one be forgotten.
Even though that’s how it’s felt all day. Hubby left for work this morning while baby girl and I were still in bed. There has been no exchange of gifts or even a single “happy anniversary,” between us.
I have no energy for celebration and no time to plan anything anyway. Hubby’s birthday is next month. I want to get him a special, personalized gift, but I haven’t even managed to order birth announcements yet. That’s how behind I am.
And anniversary sex? Yeah, that’s not happening, either.
This is the year we got everything we wanted. That should be enough. Right? So why doesn’t it feel like it?