“We haven’t had our anniversary dinner at Bella Napoli’s yet. Let’s go this week.” he said. He says this every year in June, the month we met. We are usually off on what the actual day was because we can never really remember. This year we were off by a few weeks. Michael had to look it up. He’s better at keeping track of these things, anniversaries and lengths of time. When he suggests Bella Napoli’s, I always think of the song for the opening credits of Parent Trap (the original one with Hailey Mills).

To set the bait, recreate the date, the first time cupid shot ‘em. - Richard M. Sherman/Robert B. Sherman

I met Michael at the restaurant Tuesday after work. He got there first and I parked my scooter next to his. He walked up as I was taking off my helmet and I immediately apologized for being late. I’d texted him telling him that I was leaving work in five minutes, but five minutes turned into fifteen. He leaned in to kiss me and said that he was worried and was just about to come looking for me. We went inside and were seated at a table with a view of the front door and patio. We ordered a bottle of wine to share and I people watched. This is a neighborhood place. People walk here from home and there is a diverse crowd of elderly couples mixed with young families. Small groups of teenagers sit outside, sharing pizzas.

I watched as the owner greeted familiar faces, asking how a trip was or when the grandkids were visiting. “How long has Bella Napoli’s been here?” I asked as I swirled the wine in my glass. Michael shrugged and answered “Twenty years?” Michael asked our waitress when she came back with our order of steamed mussels, telling her that we had been coming here for about nine years. She confirmed that Bella Napoli’s was a little over twenty years old. Later, when she brought us our check, she said “You guys have been coming here for nine years?” Michael told her that this was were we met on our first date. We watched as our waitress turned to goo and then exclaim “Oh my gosh! This was the place of your first date and you’ve been coming here for nine years?!? That’s so cool.”

It is a bit of a romantic story.

The last three years have not been easy. There have been moments when the words around ending things have rested on the very tip of my tongue. The space between our emotional and intellectual planes has felt too vast. Yet every time those words have rested on my tongue, I have refrained from speaking them out loud. I have paused to remind my self to find empathy and understanding. Next year is a contract renewal year and he has mentioned this a number of times. He ends his sentences with ‘if you want to renew the contract’. It is never if he wants it or if we want it. The renewing of the contract is all on me. My response to this is never with full confidence for a number of reasons. It shouldn’t just be my decision, but I suppose he wouldn’t bring it up if he wasn’t into renewing the contract. Recently, I rediscovered my voice and requested some changes, changes he immediately started working on. Those words no longer rest on the tip of my tongue and I am getting used to the sensation of that lifted weight.

He will jump through hoops to make this relationship work.

He will jump through hoops for me.