Excuse me for my morbid and maudlin desire to share -- and for the words meant almost entirely for one person.
And I know he doesn't read my blog, so really I'm just flinging the words out here and hoping he finds them if ever needed. (He doesn't need them right now, but someday he might.) I know, occasionally they should be said, and I really suck at saying them so I'll depend on one of you who know both of us to point this out to him if it ever becomes necessary. (Every time I visit the hematologist they bring up how I could have died, so maybe that's why it's at the top of my mind right now.)
He said -- not too long ago, when we were dealing with the daily shots and the immediate fallout of the pulmonary embolism, still in the hospital -- something that's stuck in my head since. He said, "You don't deserve this." It was completely off for him, because neither of us believe the world is, or even should be, fair. I could see in his eyes the thoughts of my unhappy childhood, something Megan Rebekah would understand, and now illness -- and worse, the kind with the constant not-knowing attached. No one knows why I suddenly developed something that could have killed me or if it will come back.
At the time, I laughed and pointed out that deserve means nothing in life, (hopefully, not in that bitter way adopted by those people who are certain they deserve better than they've gotten -- I don't) and he laughed and shook his head to clear away those maudlin thoughts and we went on. But there was something I thought then, I think now, that I know I'll never really be able to say out loud...
If life was a fair trade of highs and lows, of good things for every bad thing and bad things for every good thing...
I would still be in debt for a million bad things -- all for being lucky enough to find him at the right time for both of us.
Even with the abusive alcoholic father, the convicted child molester uncle, the first forays into love with the date rapist and then the psychotic abuser fiance of my own, the nightmares and other things I won't talk about, and the years of memories my brain has completely wiped out....
Even with everything I've ever 'suffered' I'd still be in debt for the life I'm living now. My house that he's let me make my own, even to the point of losing the room that was supposed to have been all his. My children that were not accidents or surprises or something we had to figure out how to deal with, that were entirely planned and wanted and are perfect -- even if they fight a little much. And the time to take care of those children and raise them myself in a way that makes us happy.
I may not have everything I've ever wanted, like that extraordinary jacket on ebay or a publishing contract, or, right now, a submittable novel, but even if I never get those things, this is still an excellent life and far better than I'd ever expected growing up the way I did. If life were a fair balance of good and bad, I would still owe more than I could ever repay -- because not everyone finds the perfect person to share their soul with.
This doesn't mean that we won't/don't argue, or that I'll stop getting mad at him for leaving dishes to soak until the whole kitchen stinks of wet rotted food or occasionally for nothing at all. All that will still happen.
But if we're talking about what we deserve?
I've never deserved him -- I probably never will -- but I'm thrilled I got him anyway.
I have been very lucky.
Written weeks ahead of time and scheduled to post while I'll be out of town -- in Chicago!!!! hopefully visiting a speakeasy or other nifty hidden areas of the city.