wake up with a start. the rain beats on the window and the wind rattles the blinds through the crack in the glass. it's still dark as my eyes adjust to the lack of light. hours have passed by, but not quite enough and my soul is restless. I wiggle into my blankets, trying to capture the warmth of my body in between the sheets. I can hear the cold and I reach out to find the last of the lingering summer warmth is now just a memory; a mere moment in the grand scheme of time.
and i realize with a sudden, sharp in-take of breath that stabs my lungs like a cold icicle...
it's passing by too quickly now. the days are long and perfect, and every moment is appreciated and lived for, but the weeks are too short. and i can taste the coming change on the fresh and raw winter wind that rumbles around the building. contentment has been hard to obtain and now a constant pulse of over thinking and getting ahead is dragging the simplicity of serene existence into a whirlwind of complicated and entangled moments, all wrapped into one idea that I can't seem to escape.
unconditional love. true, real unconditional love.
it's a consuming idea. it's more powerful then anything; stronger than the slicing wind that warps my body as i slop through the slush; letting winter seep through my shoes. The only thought in the front of my mind is to make things better, to figure out a way to improve the situation. it devoured my insides so harshly that it frightened me. I've never wanted or yearned for something more than to simply be next to him; to put my hand on his face and say: "what can i do to make this better?"
and now, as we sit with our fingers on our keyboards and a beautiful evening spent together, learning and exploring and growing and progressing, I can't help but realize how deep I'm in this and how scared I am to lose this comfort and security. I've never felt as complete as I do right now, sitting next to his warmth and feeling his breath become even with mine. All's I can think of is how I live for the moments when a funny memory hits him and he wiggles with excitement as he sets down his things so he can share with me. He tilts his head back and laughs as he replays it in his head before he can even get a word out and I think how I want him to be laughing forever. His happiness has become one of the most important things to me; and I realize, with a sudden surety that this is what unconditional means.
It is sacrifice. It is letting him go in two months and knowing that what he is going to be doing will bring him happiness. It is support. It is striving in every way, shape and form to stand by him, to let him know that he isn't alone. It isn't about me. It isn't about feeling incomplete or my fears about losing this security. It's him. It's all about him. And by realizing how real everything is, how concrete his hand is in my own, I hold on to the hope that it will be okay.
after all groundless hope, like unconditional love, is the only kind worth having.
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