Today is my anniversary. To all of you reading this, you know all of the emotions and expectations and joy and sadness that anniversaries can bring. After an affair your senses are in overdrive. You, without thinking, expect more, the over-the-top, as if some fabulous anniversary of surprises and romance can wipe away the pain of betrayal. We know that it won't, but we want that symbolism that we are once again the “one”, the “only”.

But, here's the thing, I have never been the girl that needs any of that. Our previous before-the-affair anniversaries were rarely set-apart special. We might have enjoyed a dinner out, but neither of us would have cared if it was just McDonald's. I cannot recall an instance of exchanged gifts. And though we usually exchange cards, it wouldn't have been unheard of for that not to happen. My absolute favorite thing my husband does for me on our anniversary is take the day off from work when he can. I have always valued his time over any gift.

He says he has plans for us tomorrow. He does have to go into work a while tomorrow, but that's okay. I admit I'm feeling excited for whatever he has planned. Tonight we curled up next to each other, just holding each other, and reminiscing about all of the funny stories from when we first met. We remembered together those first moments of feeling in love. The affair seemed a lifetime away.

And as moments pass and new memories get made, we both take steps forward, holding onto each other a little tighter than before. And though there's still a lot of talking to be done, and likely more tears to be shed from us both, we are in it together now. And every day I wake up with the knowledge that I got lucky and my story isn't the norm.




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