Our first date was in the old bar with the painted wallpaper, and the smell of smoke. At last orders, you answered the sound of the bell. I smiled at the girl on the table beside me with her thumbs up. We had the blessing of a stranger. But when half an hour passed, and there was no sign of you, I thought you were gone... until you came back with two drinks in each hand, and told me the barman to drunkard ratio had not been in your favour.
On our first holiday, we had a row at dinner. I stormed away from words I can’t remember. I walked strange, winding streets, past tables of laughter and love, and even through tears, I could see the kind of family I wanted us to become. It is better to have loved and lost, I thought. The hotel room was empty when I got back – you had put your suitcase in the wardrobe, but I didn’t know. I sat on the bed, barely able to breathe. I thought you were gone... until I heard the sound of your key.
Another time, with another key, I let myself into your apartment, and found you crying. You told me how unhappy you were, and how you were not the man for me, and that you should never have proposed, and as I looked into your heartbreaking face, I thought you were gone... until you looked into mine.
Our wedding day was filled with everything we were, and everyone we loved. But if I had walked down the aisle and found you at the end, curled in a ball, weeping, I would have picked you up and taken you wherever you needed to be. No white dress or flowers, no three courses or two signatures or first dance would have broken my stride.
So, as you lie in our bed and you can’t make the shower, you are loved. When the lights are off, and the door is shut, and your work is not done, and my lips are unkissed, you are loved. With your unwashed hair, and your hollow cheeks, and your round-the-clock-shadow, and eyes as sad as I’ve ever seen, you are no less than the beautiful man you were on the night we met, or married.
You are not terrible, or a burden. I did not make a mistake. You are not pathetic, or ugly, you are not useless or weak. I am not disgusted or repelled. I am not deserted, or alone.
Last night, with your back turned to me, you said: “I’m gone. I think I’m gone.” I wrapped my arms around you, pressed my lips to your shoulder. I tasted salt, I felt your heart, I heard your breath, I smelled your skin. I saw how your wedding ring slips to your knuckle when your hand hangs limp.
Still, you light all my senses. So, wherever you think you are, you are not gone.
You were never gone. I have never loved and lost. I have only ever loved.
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