Tomorrow is my two-year wedding anniversary. When I think about how Roy and I happened, I do a little inward laugh. He was not what I expected, we did not happen how I could have ever guessed and all of the rules meant to protect me seemed to fall away, but I was never in any danger of getting hurt. I don’t believe in love at first sight or destiny or fate and yet Roy was always right. I don’t believe everything happens for a reason, but if I am wrong, I wouldn’t change any of the crap I had to deal with to get to a place where he found me. It is quite a story…
At the end of 2010, I was at a beginning of sorts. I was in a very different place than I had ever been before: a place of transition, but also an inner peace that being in transition was all right. I had been off chemo for two months, and was figuring out what to do with my life. I couldn’t work in the traditional sense because of health and side effects from the chemo and drug therapies that were still in my system. When I was first cured, I didn’t know what it all meant. Everyone was preparing me to say goodbye and then I was just better. I was conflicted, depressed and all of the crap I had felt but held onto for the year I was trying to survive descended on me. But something snapped me out of it. I wish I could say it was a clear epiphany or some event, dream or otherwise defining moment. But it wasn’t. I just became clear, “WTF are you doing? You get to live, but you’re not living. Do something dammit.” (Yes, my inner voice constantly swears at me – I’m used to it.)
