“Just relax” and “She’ll be fine” still infuriate me.
You did it again last night. That thing that only you are capable of. My favorite part of the way you love me.
We’ve been in a holding pattern for weeks, me fighting and you silently supporting. Me trying not to scare you with the whole truth, and you giving me white lies about not being scared. And then my worst nightmare materialized. The thing I am most afraid of is even closer to coming true.
When I saw you last night you just hugged me. You held me in the way that said everything I’d been needing to hear and no one has been able to provide. I know you’re scared too, and that helps. Blind optimism is lost on me and I’m tired of hearing it. If I was capable of that I wouldn’t be fighting every day to stay who I am. And then you told me the lie that everyone has to say:
“Everything is going to be OK. Believe me. Have I ever been wrong?”
Buried under your chin I take a moment to think, searching for anything that you’ve ever taught me that was wrong. And I come up with nothing. As I shake my head against your chest you begin to laugh. I look up and all you can say is:
“You haven’t been keeping track then have you?”
It used to infuriate me, the way you can make me laugh when I least want to. But we’re not bickering teenagers now, you’re not “ruining” our arguments by making me laugh. Every time you do that it just reminds me that you are my best friend for a reason. When all I think I’m capable of is being an anxiety ridden panicking lunatic you remind me that I’m capable of more. That I’m still in here somewhere and that you haven’t given up on me. You also are the first person who actually made me think that it could possibly be OK. I’ll fight this fight until the end of time if that’s what it takes, because you deserve your best friend too.



