I'm doing 42 things
This year would have marked my 5th anniversary with my estranged husband. We are still fully married. Our prenupt involved agreeing that marriage being a one time thing for us, having really only one kick at the can, we vowed not to grant each other a divorce, ever. So, here we are, four years later, apart, and as I still love an respect him, I understand we are not meant to be ‘together’ together. Every August 18th was a time of dread for me, generally booze soaked and saccharine.
This year everything changed. My best friend and I decided to hold a ‘platonic-union-ceremony’. We dressed in our finest, had certificates and an officiant, and although not legally binding vowed our undying friendship to one another. There was a small outdoor service and a lovely cocktail reception that followed. She wore a fancy tuxedo dress and I wore an informal war era cream coloured gown and veil. We had matching bouquets and exchanged rings. From now on I do not have to think of August 18th as my wedding anniversary (with a matching tattoo to remind me), but rather my ceremony in which my best friend took the time to trade one sad memory for a new fabulous one.
