Almost Elvis

Marriage is a strange thing. Commiting yourself to one and only one other, Forsaking all others, forever until forever is no more.

And it’s meant to be perfect, fresh daisies in the springtime, raking leaves in the fall, season after glorious season

But how can we be someone’s everything, all of the time, how can we be giving and kind and supportive and sexy 

After so many summers spent dragging kids to the pool, losing pairs of goggles after goggles?

Or winter coats, on top of winter boots, on top of winter hats, and mittens covered in frost, and snot?

After a time, you look up at your beloved and you see 

He is no longer a rock star

You no longer feel right in heels

It was good for enough for awhile, now it’s only good enough for Vegas. A close facsimile to the real thing. 

If you squint you can almost see him–almost–Elvis 

looking back at you. Glancing up from the newspaper 

he reads on the toilet.