Please tell me that if I shut my eyes really hard and count to ten, everything will be ok when I open them.
Why does it have to be him? He’s been through SO much already. Why couldn’t it be me? If there was any way at all I could take this on in his place, I wouldn’t hesitate for a moment.
What a terrifying combination of sounds. Only six letters and two syllables to communicate the possibility of my greatest fear coming true.
We’re not even thirty. We’re supposed to spend the rest of our lives together. I can’t envision any future for myself without him standing at my side.
He’s the strong one, the brave one. I know he’d be able to go on without me. Yes, he’d ache for me for the rest of his days. But he’d find a way to live with the void.
I never would. I’m not as strong as him or as brave.
Without him, my heart would continue to beat in my chest, but I’d be no more alive than he would be.
Because the “us” that requires both him and me has become my life. I no longer know where he ends and I begin.
I can still vividly recall those awkward and lonely years when it seemed as if nothing was ever going to happen for me. Wouldn’t I love to travel back in time and tell that angst ridden boy I once was that something beyond anything he ever dared to dream was just around the corner!
I remain completely awed at having found someone like him, someone whose very presence fills my heart with such indescribable joy.
Please tell me I won’t lose that.
Please, God, don’t let me lose that.
I was planning to propose to him next month. On his birthday. I already have a ring for each of us, with my birthstone in the one for him and his birthstone in the one for me.
I was planning to take him down to the pond, to where we had our first swim together all those years ago and where we’ve had countless swims together since.
And I was going to ask him to be my husband.
It was so perfect the way I envisioned it in my head. The triumphant moment our entire lives had been building toward.
Now everything has changed.
And I’m not going to wait until his birthday. I’m going to ask him tonight, and I’ll marry him within the week if he’s willing.
Because I want to be his husband as soon as possible-for as long as I can, whether that’s only a few months or sixty years.
That’s what we need to do as he begins treatment, as he begins fighting this disease like the survivor that he is. We need to keep dreaming, keep planning, keep hoping for all the things we imagined for our life together.
We can’t know what the future has in store for us, but we can take each others' hands and walk toward it just the same.
Please tell me it’s not true.
Please tell me this isn’t the end.
Please tell me we have tens of thousands of tomorrows still yet to come.