A Romantic Anniversary. Romantic Anniversary between husband and wife.  by  LazyDiogenes . listen to the podcast at Steamy Stories.  22 years. Angie had the day off to give her a nice 3 day weekend; and for me a normal Friday at the office. Even though we have 21 anniversaries behind us, the day still gives me a smile. The drive home from work is my time to shake off the day and reflect on anything from the day’s wins and lessons to weekend plans; or on milestone days like this, the last 22 years. I naturally reflected on our most memorable - our first, where we ate the ceremonial cake, the second honeymoon in Athens on our 5th; and the infamous - our brief time apart in our 13th year. That separation proved to be a blessing in disguise; being apart on our anniversary helped make us both realize we belonged together, resulting in an unbreakable lifelong bond. However… As much as I adore my wife now every bit as much as I did in our earliest years, complacency sets in. The fact I’m old enough to need medicine now doesn’t help. I know it’s just age and biology but still a blow to the ego. Angie really doesn’t care for flowers and we stopped giving gifts years ago. This anniversary is sure to be like so many over the past several years. We’ll sit on the couch and go through our usual drill: ‘We should probably at least have dinner somewhere’ 'Yeah, probably should; where do you want to go?’ 'I don’t care; what are you hungry for?’ 'Doesn’t matter; I can go with anything.’ 'Okay; I guess we can just go to Texas Roadhouse.’ I still have a healthy sex drive but Angie has become less and less responsive, the result of a waning libido I guess. We’re in a deep rut but we still love each other and have a good life: biggest house we’ve ever lived in; first pool we’ve ever had; financially secure. It’s a good life. Norman Lear once said how much he loved his life. Even at 98 years old, 'I get to get up in the morning and I’m still married to the most beautiful woman in the world.’ Couldn’t have said it better myself. Roadhouse is fine; we’ll go and have a decent time, then come home and sit back down on the couch as if we’d never left. We’re far from perfect, dysfunctional even, but I’ve learned to be content. The door opened to an empty garage. I left work early for the occasion however modest it might be, and honestly didn’t think anything of her not being there; maybe she’s at Karen’s house. I set my stuff down and saw the handwritten note on the counter on nice writing stationery: Happy anniversary, my love! Come to the Gaylord room #610. See you soon! Love, Angie (You’ll want to take your medicine; says your dosage is 3-5. You should take 5 (with a smiley face). It took a minute to sink in; then my heart jumped and mind raced. What time did she write this? How long had she been there? I need to get out there right away! No, wait, maybe she just left; I don’t want to be right behind her at the check-in desk. What am I saying? I need to get out there right away! Do I shower first? No…yeah, make it quick. I was in and out in 5 minutes and raced to my dresser to grab a handful of clothes for an overnight bag and saw a second note: Already packed for you (with another smiley face). I had one leg in my jeans before I thought wait, I can’t just show up in jeans and a t-shirt, can I. I quickly put on my best suit and ripped the tag off a necktie I hadn’t even worn yet. If Angie put this much thought into this night I needed to come strong. I was out of house in less than 15 minutes. I had a fleeting thought to text her and ask if she needed anything before realizing how stupid that would sound; it’s not like I’m going to the Piggly Wiggly. God we were in a rut. My heart was pounding and my mouth dry from the flurry of activity. I’m sure I didn’t catch every red light on the way there but it sure felt like it. I finally arrived at the Gaylord and walked in like a gentleman as best as I could, conspicuously carrying t