I remember growing up how limited television was. We had three channels, four if you included the French one, which somehow we never did. 

I used to love the movies that came on during Sunday afternoons. I think they were on CBC, and they stuck with me.

They were foreign lands in black and white, 

elegant people with interesting lives.

I spent hours watching classics like Casablanca, Easter Parade, and Wizard of Oz. 

The one coming back to me today appropriately enough, is The Seven Year Itch. 

It was my first introduction to marriage and temptation, to the idea it wasn’t forever for everyone. 

Growing up where I did, divorce was rare, and people who divorced were like a rare species of animal I hardly ever saw. 

As I matured, it no longer seemed so strange. I watched as many people I knew ended long term relationships, citing irreconcilable differences or lack of common interests. 

I always felt sad, thinking about how one could go from loving someone so much to wishing them away. 

I kept myself apart, not wanting to chance that type of disaster while I was busy making a life for myself.

Until he came along, being himself, making me happy I was myself. 

We decided we wanted to keep being ourselves together, and tied the knot 7 years ago today.

Today was a regular work day, dealing with problems big and small, and we never talked after our morning goodbye kiss until I was on my way home, getting my after-work grocery list from him.

But today, I thought about this movie and smiled.

Not one single prickle under my skin, no restlessness I can’t handle. 

Only calm satisfaction that I waited for him to come along, and anticipation of the next seven years together 

Happy anniversary my love, and I’ll see you again. 

And again, and again