Eleven years ago today I got married.

I have so many thoughts tonight.

First of all, my possibly entirely unrequited crush is fascinating to me. I’m always a skeptic about such things but I worry… I worry he actually does read this blog for some shocking reason (although I doubt it). …I made a criticism of something in a post or two ago that I worry came across as disheartening. Distancing even, possibly. On the wild chance he reads this…I worry.

…It’s times like this that I *hate* and *love* the internet both. I’d likely have no way of knowing he exists without the internet but at the same time it’s so difficult to read people this way. And I’ve always been clueless about such things to start with. Violets really do suit me and my (albeit well-intentioned)…somber-ditziness when it comes to men I find attractive.

The thing is…I saw in him shreds and pieces of the sort of man I once longed to marry, starting in girlhood. And, of course, I don’t know this man but…the little glimmers were enough to catch my eye, so to speak. Enough to make me wonder if there was more than just that to admire about him. But really, he may barely even recognize my name at all. The sudden burst of admiration might be entirely one-sided on my side. …I’ll let it go soon, as always. I don’t want to scare him by possibly being too friendly.

On the wild chance he reads this…I’m sorry if I scared or hurt you with anything I’ve written here. Oops. *grimace* …My blog is my space to be slightly absurd, perhaps. Hopefully at least fairly honest. But you’d have to talk to me directly to get to genuinely know me for yourself, of course. *smile*

…Eleven years ago I flew home from Las Vegas after getting married looking tan in a black Jersey dress. I was far skinnier and actually quite gorgeous. I was 27. A size 0. Perfectly coiffed. And I was confused and sad. But, of course, also hopeful.

…My ex truly never proposed. We just sat up all night before the wedding…with him nervously trying to find a way to propose. It was horribly cringeworthy. He had a ring…but he just never found a way he liked to propose. *sad laugh* So we just sat there eating fruit. Chocolate. Drinking… Losing sleep. I felt horrible but I still loved him. …I was hopeful.

…By around 4 AM I gave-up waiting. He promised to propose after the wedding and make it up to me somehow. Of course, he never did.

Our wedding was scheduled for dawn at Lake Mead. That was when it still had water… It was lovely. The pastor and photographer were really nice. …But I recall feeling deathly depressed as we drove away after the nuptials. …I felt regret. But, again, I loved him and he was happy. …It just all felt wrong because I could never tell whether or not he loved me.

…He’s a sweetheart. Generous. Patient. Very intelligent. …Even with his faults. But I felt so lost. Disappointed. This was not what I had in mind when it came to being loved in return…even though I loved him.

Oh well.

I’m glad I have my kids. And he truly is a genuinely caring and loyal friend.