It's Our Day, Again.

                       The alarm clock rang. Seven o’clock it flashed. The ceiling fan overhead buzzed slowly as it made its revolutions, and the man got up and out of bed. He entered the bathroom and began brushing his teeth, his eyes half open. He checked his phone and saw the date, “I guess today is the day.”

            He dressed himself, combed his hair, and tied his shoes. Before exiting the room, he picked up the picture frame that sat in the foyer, looked at it and said “I’m coming to spend the day with you, like I promised.”

            He walked into the busy sidewalk and walked to a convenience store at the corner of the street. Immediately he got two drinks, Coca-Cola in a bottle. He went to the cashier, and paid. The cashier looked at him and asked, “Another date, huh?”

            “Yeah, something like that, Sal. It’s our fifth anniversary today.” He gladly answered; ready to display his long-surviving relationship to anyone that was curious. He left, and began walking the opposite way, back where he came from.

            It was a florist shop, and the bells on the door chimed as he entered. “You have what I need Jessica?” he asked, beaming.

            “Oh yes. Here, the special anniversary bouquet you reserved.” She said as she handed him the flowers. “She’s real lucky to have you.” She told him as she rang him up at the cashier.

“I guess. We’ve been together for five years now, so we’re celebrating. Don’t really know if she’s lucky being stuck with me that long.” They both laughed as he waved goodbye and left.

            He walked a few more blocks until he stopped and entered a dingy, old restaurant. “Hey, it’s him! Mr. Anniversary man,” yelled the manager with a deep Indian accent. “Jeez, you should have told me when you were still single, my daughter’s been looking for a husband.” The daughter, waiting a table, stared back at the father with disgust. The father looked back, shrugged his shoulders saying “Eh…”

            “It’s alright, I started coming here, about two years after we started dating anyway. Plus, your daughter’s in high school. So can I get the food?” he asked still wearing this gleeful expression.

            “Hey it’s never to early to start a family, right? Oh, yes, of course. Here, I packed a little extra just for you, since it’s your anniversary. So you two planning to start a family anytime soon?” The manager asked as he handed him the food.

            “For now, I don’t think we care too much about it. Don’t think she could start one right now anyway.” He told the manager as he paid and left.

He walked even farther now, with the soda and food in his left hand, and the flowers tucked in his right shoulder. The scenery changed from a bustling cityscape, to a green, peaceful environment. He walked with a steel fence guarding the lawns to his right. He reached a gate and went through, telling the guard at his post that he was a visitor.

            He walked until he found it. “There you are.” He put the food and the flowers down in front of him and sat down. “It’s amazing to think it’s been five years already. I remembered the first date we had together; we ate at the park during my lunch break and shared this curry. So, I guess it’s been our little anniversary tradition to do this. Jeez, five years…” His gleeful expression was now erased and replaced with a more sullen one. “Ah, to think, five years ago, today was supposed to be our wedding day. Of all the days you choose to go walking out at night, you chose that; jeez, couldn’t blame you. I guess you needed to think before making a decision as stupid as marrying me.” He chuckled when he said that, but he was forcing himself to feel amused.

He was crying a little bit, but his facial expression was not one of sadness, but rather regret. He leaned his head against her tombstone, “Five years ago, everything changed. Though I thought I would be depressed and never try living my life again, I decided to keep my promise and fulfill it. So, like you requested before you died, I come here every week and visit you, I prepare the same meal we made a tradition. I’m sure you notice, but I want to remind you that I am doing it just like I said I would.” He opened on of the Coca-Cola bottles and placed it in front of her tombstone, and opened the other for himself. He raised the glass and stared upwards, and said “Here, for you. Happy would-be-anniversary.”