Thirty-one years ago today I made the “walk down the aisle” that binds one person’s life to another in the eyes of whatever authority sanctions such things in their society. I can’t say it was the happiest day of my life, as ceremonial events ain’t my schtick, but I can say without hesitation that the vast majority of the happiest days of my life have been spent in the company of the woman who made that walk down the aisle with me.
Love is a funny thing. Not necessarily ha-ha funny, but a lot of times it is that kind of funny, too. Love is a word that people apply to their feelings for parents, siblings, friends, children, TV shows, and ice cream, but when it is applied to an object of romantic yearning it becomes something deeper. It becomes a symbol for a depth that has no limit.
There are people who think that true love is something that only exists in fairy tales. Binding your life to one other for the long haul is not for those who want a simple, uncomplicated life. It is no fairy tale.
I have learned from the person I love that, if anything, the fairy tales sell love short.