So, I was reading a post of mine on facebook from a few years back, about what love was or wasn’t and I thought it was time I did an updated version of it, cause, well, as I grow older, things get clearer even as things grow more confusing.
Love isn’t big fancy proposals, and giant cards or pizza with their name written on them, or 7-carat diamonds or fancy million dollar vacations.It’s not big expensive nights on the town and drinking two hundred dollar bottles of champagne.
It’s not loud, or showy at all it seems.
It’s in the little quiet moments that people on the outside may never see or notice.
It’s dancing in the living room while watching a youtube video, because the song makes you think of him, even if your dancing is more like swaying anymore to that Ed Sherren song, knowing that even though you’re so far from your seventies, he’s already chased you while you were in a walker, making you laugh yourself silly, just as he’s made you laugh since he was 23.
It’s dragging a chair to share the computer to play a silly PC game and laughing at the words the other one is attempting to spell while they write.
It’s knowing that when you’re writing and you’re trying to block out an action in your head if you yell out “hun, how would you fall if you were stabbed under the left side of your rib cage?” They would come in and show you dramaticly how it would look.
It’s helping each other while making dinner and making a dessert even when you know you will only get one of the three you just watch your partner make cause it’s her favorite. It’s knowing what pizza topping they want without ever needing to ask, but you ask, just in case they change their mind that night.I
t’s the need to give your person a hug when you come home from work before you actually feel like you’re human again, even if there are people visiting, that hug has to happen, visitors be damned, becuase you’re not really even home until you get that hug.
It’s early mornings with Sasha the cat waking you up to be let out of the bedroom, and one you getting up cause the other one just got cozy and doesn’t want to move.
It’s moments of shared grief when you find the old cat collar of Pergy the fluffy cat before her, and it hits you both all over again.
It’s not batting a lash when she calls you to pick up a lipstick at Walgreens when you go and get her meds, and when you ask her what color she wants, she says “I trust you” and you both know she actually does trust you to pick out the right color, and not surprisedly, you do.
It’s making your person go to the hospital, and kissing her before surgery that she may not come out alive from, and not letting her see how damn scared you are knowing she’s dying, and her fate is out of your hands entirely.
It’s crying on the phone to your papa, scared to death of her dying, but keeping a brave face when you see her.
It’s telling her she’d better come back to you, and going to work cause she told you to, so you would keep busy instead of sitting there in the ICU, worrying.
It’s waiting by the phone for a two-minute phone call while she’s miles away fighting for her life and scared she’s never coming home. It’s a month of long sleepless nights, unable to sleep without her next to you.
It’s the best nap you and she have ever have, holding each other’s hand, becuase you’re both finally home.
It’s when she comes home, helping her do little things.. go to the bathroom, washing her hair, making her do her PT.
It’s telling her it’s okay to cry, that it’s okay to be angry over what’s she’s lost, and remidning her that she has done so much more then they thought she would.
It’s laying next to her, holding her hand, when she can’t sleep from pain, soothing her, in the grief.
It’s the haterd of being helpless to help him, cope with the changes of you no longer being who you were before.
It’s being there when the doctors tell her the cane is permanent, and she will never be without it again, and when they tell her she will never walk again and she stares them in the face and tells them “Wanna bet?”
It’s knowing she isn’t joking when she says she will make the impossible happen. It’s knowing She will never give up, even when she is crying and hurting and feels as if the world is crashing.
It’s telling her she’s got this as she makes each painful stair down. It’s celebrating each step, each milestone, together. It’s dealing with temper flaring, crying jags, and mind-numbing pain.
It’s watching her walk solo for the first time in over six months, holding her cane, and whistling the circus theme song to make her laugh while she’s doing her best not to fall on her ass.
It’s that look you share with each other when someone says “oh you poor thing. It can’t be worse then this.” and knowing it can , it has but together you got this handled.
It’s laughing, and singing off-key to random Taylor Swift, and listening to all the news about random superhero movies that you can’t keep track of, but you try your best cause he loves them.
It’s keeping pop tarts in the cabinet for him. It’s keeping booze pops and wine in the fridge for her. It’s being never surprised when a Sephora box shows up on the doorstep, and knowing that hearing the term “unicorn blood” means either she’s watching HP or talking to her bestie about the JS lippie that they both love more than life.
It’s the small stuff, the everyday things, the tying shoelaces, the million tiny moments that mean nothing to others but mean everything to you and them.
“babe, you need to blend your blusher out”
“hun, you got your shirt inside out”
I trust you.
You got this.
We’ll face it together.
I’ve said it once, and I’ll repeat it more than once.
Love isn’t a big diamond on your hand, it’s not in the fancy ceremonies and lavish honeymoons, or the over the top proposals.
Love isn’t loud, and it doesn’t scream it from the rooftops.
To me, love is a hand squeeze in a hospital bed, a steady hand on my arm as I make careful unsteady steps.
It’s in the quiet soft whisper in my ear when I drift off to sleep.
“I’m here, I’ll protect you. I’ll keep you safe.”