Have you ever wondered what holds things together when the going gets tough, and the words aren’t so gentle? Do you ever think that with one more tug, things will unravel, and you will be left holding one end of a string that seems to go nowhere?
Maybe my thoughts turn more this way because lupus seems to be more prevalent these days, and I am reminded that Beloved doesn’t have to go through this with me. He doesn’t have to stay, yet he does.
Like the gentleman that he is, he seems to understand the moment I feel unsure and unlovable. He picks up those uncertainties, puts a nice bow around them, and sends them out into the night. He brushes away the sense that I am less than or not worthy of his love and time. He picks up all of that mess, cleans it all up, and assures me that he can handle lupus and me.
He doesn’t understand; he can’t really understand how much a chronic illness can play on one’s sense of confidence. And in those moments of pain and frustration, there isn’t much he can do other than be there with me. To him that’s more than enough. To me, it’s a question of when the glue will let go, or he will want his freedom back.
waltzingwithwhims 