I may never again get to stand outside in the cold wondering why you won’t kiss me, and wishing more than anything you would;
I may never again conduct a NASA training mission with you, my body probably won’t handle it;
I may never again write an achingly sad love poem, you have filled my heart too full;
And I may never again be as strong as I was, as able as I was, or as able to eat normal foods with you again; and I’m actually ok with that.
Because, thanks to you
I will never again wonder if I’m beautiful, I see it in your eyes;
I will never again worry that I won’t have money for groceries, you provide for me when I am not able;
I will never again fear spending my life alone, if you were going to run you’d have done it by now;
I will never again think that I am less than in a relationship, you raise me up above what I see in myself;
On this our third Valentine’s Day
I hope you know how much I love you.
How much I appreciate all the apples with peanut butter, late night runs to Giant because I won’t make it without chocolate, the it’s oks that you say when I just can’t do what we wish I could even when you don’t sound convincing I’ve learned that you will eventually mean it.
How much it means to me when you pick up Daisy after a seizure to carry her down the stairs and out the door, when you sleep on the sofa when my pain is too much to sleep in bed and won’t leave me to sleep downstairs alone, that you believe in my dreams and won’t let me throw them away, that you want to convince Oreo how safe and how loved she is and that you will always, forever do what is needed for both our girls.
And while I wish you never had to I can’t thank you enough for the hours you’ve spent with me at the ER, the times you’ve left work because I’ve fallen and actually really can’t get up, taken my temperature knowing full well it’s normal but knowing I’m worried, gotten wet washcloths so I can clean my face after losing a meal and being so, so incredibly determined that we can make me better.
If I could give you anything, I’d give you a healthy me.
The me you fell in love with not knowing how sick I’d get or how fast I’d fade.
The me that went out to dinner without caring where we went or what they served.
The me that didn’t have so many doctors, so many medicines, so many pains.
If you wanted to know what I wanted from you, for Valentine’s Day, I would say…
Nothing more than what you already do. Every day. Any time. All the time.
You love the broken me as much as the me you first met.
You *almost* never complain the times you have to care for me.
You are my forever Valentine. My love.