Arise my love and come away...

I awoke to a knock at the hotel door. Red roses. The day before it was yellow ones. Champagne and half-eaten strawberries sat on the desk. "Happy anniversary, baby," he said. We spent the day apart for a couple of hours while he drove the flowers back to our house. We were at the beach so I headed out to my old neighborhood on Montana. I sat in front of my apartment and remembered a time alone, living with my cat, Romeo, dating my friend from long ago. I drove to Saint Monica's and sat in the quiet. I thanked God for him.

We met at the Four Seasons where we checked in for the night, just as we did one year ago. We took a drive to meet the rabbi who married us and talked about life. We've learned how to let go of the things we have no control of and concentrate on what's important. For us, it's living in the present. No more past painful memories. Just now.

We headed down Pacific Coast Highway and stopped for a slice of pizza. We were both overwhelmed by the love we feel for each other. We talked about the past year and were amazed at how far we'd come together. "I've never felt happiness like this," he said. Neither have I.

We returned to the hotel and dressed for the evening. Walking hand-in-hand to the place we married brought back some of the happiest memories in my life. As we approached Il Cielo, I heard a violin playing. Gold draped the doorways, candles lit the room and white roses adorned the table. A violinist played Puccini in the corner. It was all for the two of us. No one else. I felt weak in the knees. We sat down and he grabbed my hands, pulled out a diamond ring and said, "Marry me again."

I would marry him in another million lifetimes if I could but my logical mind tells me this might be the only time around. If that turns out to be true, what a ride it's been. For anyone who thinks fairy tales can't come true, they can.

I had a realization that night. Yes, the dinner and the diamonds were wonderful, but violins are always playing around our house. We've both tried to create romance with the wrong people. Sure, it might have worked for one night, but the next day you're still stuck with the wrong person and all the violins and diamonds in the world won't make it right. As we sat last night on the sofa, he in a pair of underwear and me in a tanktop and sweats, eating black-and-white cookies from Fred's Bakery and watching South Park, we both began to laugh. "Now this is romance," he said.

We held each other all night, just like every night, and we woke up this morning, just like every morning. "I'm the luckiest man in the world," he said. No, I'm the luckiest woman in the world.
I don't know why it took so long for us to end up together. I just know we're together now, and nothing will ever change that. He said it best in his vows-

...Where were you all my life? How did we know we were supposed to find each other? We touched ever so briefly many years before, and perhaps long ago we crossed within yards of each other when you were 8 and I was 18. What mischief was in the minds of the gods when they gently blew us apart in that long time ago? We had lives to live and in some ways, dragons to slay before I could stand before you and ask you to marry me.
Maybe nothingness is to be without your presence,
without you moving, slicing the noon like a blue flower
Without you walking later through the fog and the cobbles.
without the light you carry in your hand, golden, which maybe others will not see,
which maybe no one knew was growing like the red beginnings of a rose.
In short, without your presence; without your coming, suddenly, incitingly, to know my life,
gust of a rosebush, wheat of wind:
since then I am because you are,
since then you are, I am, we are,
and through love I will be, you will be, we will be.