A rock sat on my chest for days leading up to the 7th anniversary of my marriage. I was in no mood to celebrate it and was half afraid he’d find out. As with a couple of Valentine’s Day ago, I might use it as a chance to discuss what’s going on, or what’s not going on, in our marriage.
He took my hand as we walked towards the restaurant. “Are you excited?” he asked. We were going to Shiro’s, the best sushi place in town, allegedly founded by an apprentice of Japan’s most renowned sushi chef, Jiro Ono, the one featured in the documentary “Jiro Dreams of Sushi”.
“Are you excited?” he asked.
I pursed my lips.
“You’re not happy, are you?”
I shrugged, and we crossed the street.
We asked for Omakase, the “chef’s selection” style where we sit at the bar in front of the chef, who will serve you whatever they make. Shiro’s Omakase is “open ended”, which meant that instead of having a fixed number of sushi, you may ask to stop whenever you’re full. Or, in our case, keep going until you’ve finally had enough. It’s not an “all you can eat”, mind you. You’re charged for every piece.
Out of a sense of respect I didn’t take any pictures of the two albacore nigiris that started our meal. But the next sushi was a translucent fish that resembled a piece of white jade. The desire to capture that beauty overcame my shyness with the camera.
“Happy anniversary!” husband said.
“Yes,” I smiled and nodded.
“As you were saying, you’re not happy?”
I was surprised he’d follow up. But yes that was something I wanted to get into.
“Well, you know, we don’t really talk to each other any more. When we do it’s always practical and functional. We barely talked to each other over the weekend even though we were together.”
“And because of our little one too,” he added.
“Yes. We don’t have anything in common, we want our alone time and then we don’t have time for each other. We don’t do anything together.”
That was as far as I got. As it turned out, you can’t complain about your marriage when you’re grinning from ear to ear, because you’re tasting sushi that’s unlike anything you’ve ever dreamed of. Fish gently draped over rice that melt in your mouth. Blue fin tuna that looks familiar enough, but makes you question if all the tuna you’ve had before had been injected with gelatin. I am ready to never eat sushi anywhere else ever again.
As husband’s eyes beamed yet again with surprise and wonder at the I don’t know what fish, and I’m involuntarily swaying left and right like a flower being visited by fairies, I realized that we were doing something together right now. We were having a first-in-a-lifetime experience together. There’s something to be said about that.