Post #8 - Make You Feel My Love
Rich: My partner. My best friend. My lover. Mine.
It’s very hard for me to write this post as I don’t want it to come off as “sappy” or “romanticized”. I think most people feel like their person is “the best”; however, I know that Rich has been “the best” for me.
We knew right away on our first date that we were going to be together. We’ve been together almost 6 years, and I feel like we have been through some major battles together: family illness (as well as our own); job loss; parental alienation; his divorce; mental health issues; a global pandemic. That is just some of it. I feel like we’ve been through so much and it has only been close to 6 years; however, on the other hand, I feel like I’ve known him my whole life. There are times I forget that he wasn’t at certain events, or there for certain stages of my life. Our relationship has been tested, and we always end up knowing that we’re way better together than we are apart. I can’t imagine my life without him. Plain and simple - my life is better with him in it.
Rich has always been a kind and compassionate person. I’ve seen it a million different ways - its second nature to him. Even on our first date, he helped a lady with her luggage get into a cab. I thought it was for show; however, I have been proven wrong many times. He is an idealist at his core and sees the best in people at all times. Rich makes me want to be better and a little less cynical - at times. I never knew how much I would come to appreciate these traits.
As I have alluded, I’m kind of dark and existential. In the past, I would make up these terrible scenarios and ask Rich if he would still love me if they happened. Well, I guess I was going to get my litmus test after the fateful call from Dr. S. I remember it like it’s a movie I have watched a million times. I know where each of us was seated on the couch; I remember where my phone was placed; I remember looking at Rich the moment we heard it was cancer. He didn’t waiver or move - I’m not sure he was even breathing. He told me we would get through this together and one step at a time.
I knew he meant it - that we would hold hands through this whole process. Rich has always been a sense of calm for me. He is truly the ying to my yang. We don’t freak out about the same things, and I feel like we truly compliment one another. If he was nervous or scared, he never showed it or said it to me. He always reassured me and helped me make every decision along the way. I didn’t have to manage his feelings along with mine. For that, I was grateful. There were times I would go into the shower and just started crying hysterically so he wouldn’t see (or hear) me lose it. I later found out Rich knew, and he just let me have those moments - to lose my shit and not feel badly about it.
Part of my overwhelming guilt lies in my relationship. I know my illness put a huge strain on Rich, and “us”, as a couple. Rich didn’t make me feel this way - I took it on. Our normal roles were upended, and Rich had to become my caretaker for quite some time. To this day, I still need help with many tasks. I hate feeling helpless or asking for help - I’m not good at it. I was fiercely independent for so long, and to feel dependent, was not a good feeling for me. I also never wanted to be a burden.
I didn’t feel like myself for several weeks. Still, there are aspects of my life that I feel will never come back. One of my first nights home, I felt like a stranger in our own bed. I said to Rich that it didn’t feel right - like, I wasn’t in the right bed anymore. Looking back, I could see how much that statement might have hurt his feelings; however, Rich just reassured me that I just needed some time and that it would become familiar to me soon.
On another night, we were lying in bed and Rich heard me crying. When he asked me why I was crying, I just answered, “I never get to go back to normal.” I tried explaining that, as far as I had come along, and as grateful as I am to be healthy, I never get to feel like I did before my diagnosis. This has been very hard for me to come to terms with. The naiveté I had before this illness is gone. I will never get it back. I was grieving for myself, for the innocence, and for that feeling.
There will never be words to express my gratitude and love for Rich. I know that no matter what happens to us and our relationship, I will love him forever - for the kindness and compassion he has shown me through these times. As I’ve mentioned before, there are times I have been a royal asshole during my recovery, and he never called me on it. Rich lets me have my tantrums, and then we move on. I’ve also become one of those people that now apologizes to him for everything - taking too long in the bathroom; asking for more water (as I couldn’t lift our Brita pitcher for almost 8 weeks); putting on my scar bandage every night; and when he had to, lifting me into bed. Rich always replies with the same answer: “You don’t have to apologize. You’re doing the best you can.” Even typing about his compassion has brought tears to my eyes. I don’t know that I will truly ever be able to show him my love, appreciation, and gratitude - but I will strive to every day.