My Heart, Be Steel

March Fifth is my eleventh wedding anniversary, so I checked and found out the traditional gift for that particular landmark is … steal.

So I gave Emily a license plate.

I don’t know what I’m more worried about, her reaction or how soon the owner will find out it’s gone.

Apparently steel symbolizes strength and integrity, and how hardened you have to be to your spouse’s bad habits to last eleven years. 

I think our best mutual anniversary present was the dog. Also, one of the more expensive, but never mind. The truth is Beowulf wasn’t an anniversary gift at all, but he’s been with us for almost our entire marriage–he’s basically our child, and one year I even had his portrait painted (penciled?) as a present for her. The only thing that’s lasted longer for us are some of my shirts, although for some reason I keep finding them accidentally tossed into the trash can.

I suspect Emily’s given up on expecting a lot out of me on special occasions like this, but hope springs eternal. I freeze up when it comes to preparing for these things. Congress will balance the budget before I get around to planning. I’m also utterly unable to compose a nice greeting card message, despite the fact that I’m an actual writer. I’m sure a good psychiatrist could get that all sorted out, but I have to wonder whether that sorting would screw something else up. I’m a carefully balanced stack of anxiety and insecurity at this point in my life–why take chances?

Just the same, I think she still appreciates me … I think … and I know she still loves me, or she’d head back to her home state where winters are milder. (Except maybe this year.) She also knows what I need more than I do myself, which is probably a thing with all couples, and she takes good care of me. I try to take care of her, too. I guess that’s the important thing.

As for gifts, what Emily really wants is a horse, of course.

And I think Beowulf would be okay with it–he’s touched noses with horses before. However, if we tried to keep a horse in our back yard I’m pretty sure someone would notice, and that’s not allowed in town. Unfair, right? Horses can come in handy. But we’re on the lookout for a place in the country, so sooner or later I’ll get her that horse … s … horses.

So Emily, if you’re still talking to me–you never know for sure–I love you, and I’m sorry for my fails, some of which are epic. I’m working on them! Well, I’m working on some of them. But I’ll always be there for you, even when I’m being there badly, and know this:

I love you more than chocolate.