Last night D and I had a bad fight and we almost split up. I’ve never been sadder and more afraid in my entire life! It’s nowhere near the harrowing experience I had in the hands of my incompetent surgeon who injured my bile duct and almost killed me. The thought of losing D felt like 10 newly sharpened scalpels tearing my heart to shreds. I know now why Romeo chose to die than live without his Juliet. If I had lost D, I would’ve wanted to die too.
Love is funny, isn’t it? On one hand, it can bring you joy beyond anything you could imagine. On the other, it can drag you down to the lowest depths of sorrow. It’s a paradox – an emotion beyond comprehension. Not even the great Romanticists could proffer an explanation of what it is and why it does what it does to the hapless lovers who suddenly find themselves caught in love’s delicious web. What moves these lovers to do the strange things they do? Don't ask me.
D will probably be upset at me for posting this here. I can almost hear him saying “Honey, people don’t want to read about heartaches. This won’t elicit comments!”
Who cares? In the first place, this post is not about heartaches. It’s about joy — the joy of a young woman who has found her one true love. It’s about gratitude for having someone in her life who is so patient and understanding. It’s about hope and resolve that she will try to make her man as happy as he makes her, even more. It’s about me loving D. Thank you, baby, for being the way you are. I love you beyond words and with all of me.
Your monkeybutt forever,
J
1 comment:
I'm glad things are okay - we just found you! Ummm.... not sure I want to know why you're called "MonkeyButt", though, J. I heard a joke once about a monkey that would only eat something new after shoving it up his butt first... never mind.
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