Time machine

It's one thing to see a still photo of yourself taken 15 or 20 years ago. It is entirely different to see a movie of yourself.

About 15 years ago, H & I had a commitment ceremony and we recorded it with a video camera that we bought for the occasion. H had the tape of this burned to DVD recently.

So, I didn’t really care to watch the ceremony again (I’ve seen it a few times and it is wonderful)…mostly because I felt so cheated, seeing H all strapping, handsome, very much in shape, and energetic. For H, it is a great reminder of our love and commitment. But for me, it just made me mad and sad because of what I’ve lost.

In addition to the ceremony, H had filmed us just hanging out, watching TV at home. It was great to see how we used to interact, the playfulness, joking, quick exchanges of witty repartee. We were so natural together, so much at ease; we did not have the burden that we now have.

I miss how we used to interact, when we joked, played, tickled, and just had fun together. When he used to be able to keep up with my wise cracking. When he used to be able to crack some of his own wise (sic). We had so much fun together then.

I’m sad for myself that I no longer have this funny, smart, sexy, wonderful man healthy .

And I’m sad for H because he is no longer that way.

It just seems that watching our history should be a pleasant, reinforcing experience. But it isn’t.

Even our past is tainted now.