“Go back? No good at all. Go sideways? Impossible. Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!” J.R.R. Tolkien
“So…where do you see us five years from now?” The question was met with a long pause. We were sitting across from each other in the corner of a dark, cozy Italian restaurant. My half-eaten bowl of chicken alfredo sat in front of me, and the light of a candle brought a warm glow to the table. My husband, Tim, dressed in a maroon button-up shirt, holding his glass of red wine, gazed at the wall behind me.
It was July 30, 1999, our fifth wedding anniversary, and I was longing for a sentimental and forward-thinking conversation about our future. After all, we were out, just the two of us, with the baby at home with my parents. This was rare couple time. Our fifth wedding anniversary. This was a milestone year, right? We were dressed up for each other, and my heart was full of love for the man I had married five years before. We should have a conversation about our dreams for our next five years together.
“So…where do you see us five years from now?” I was preparing to talk about having another baby. And another. And another.
The man I loved responded and broke me. “How can we know? Who knows if we will even be married in five years from now. We really can’t know.” Now a long pause from me. What? What do you mean? You don’t know if we will still be married five years from now? Someone punched me in the gut.
I managed to say, “What do you mean? How can you not know?” He calmly replied, “Well, we can’t see the future. None of us know.”
I would not be picking my fork back up. This meal was over. My stomach hurt. He doesn’t love me anymore? “I don’t understand. We are married forever. We will be married forever.”
Tim was matter-of-fact. “We don’t know that.”
I was frozen. Then I pressed him. “I don’t understand why you are saying this. We got married til death do us part. We are both committed to that. So it is obvious that we will still be married five years from now. Why are you saying this?”
His reply had no emotion. “No one knows the future. I’m just acknowledging this.”
I had no more words. My stomach was in knots. I stared at my meal, the table, the space behind him. I couldn’t make eye contact. My eyes welled up. The server checked on us, and I asked for a box. We sat in silence until the check came. Why did the server wait so long to come back for the payment? Finally, we walked to the car and sat in silence during the ride home. I looked out the window, and he turned up the music.
