Cancer and other stuff

Balls of gold

Lots of kind people have asked me recently how the boy wonder is doing in the wake of the last 6 weeks’ madness and the honest truth is I THINK he’s doing OK, as OK as he can be anyway. He’s a man of few words at the best of times (how we ever got together in the first place is a mystery to me as we really couldn’t be more different). There was shock in the first few days after the scan and yes there were tears, and I was – am still am, to an extent – really worried about what this would do to him, and us. In February, we will celebrate our first joyous year together which is no time at all really, certainly not long enough for any years and years worth of rock solid foundations to be laid, in order to weather this kind of crisis. Ten months ago, his life was very different and I’m always mindful that it could just get too much for both of us at any moment.

But for now we’re just doing what we have to do to get through the days at the moment, and they’re good days by and large. The cuddles are tighter, longer, more frequent, so are the laughs, the soppy cats-staring-each-other-out gazes are more intense (even though this week, he said I looked like The Edge in my sleep cap. Sorry babe, but you did). I don’t know where we’re going, I don’t know what we’re doing except stumbling along trying to figure it all out, holding hands and having lots of soppy neck kisses along the way. And for however long that lasts, it’s good. I think the future will probably take care of itself.

It’s never been a secret I’m hopelessly, ridiculously, vomit-inducingly in love and I make absolutely no apologies for continuously shouting this from the rooftops. Why not? I never want to regret the things I never said. Every day I seem to have a sort of giggle in mad disbelief that someone came along, smack bang in the middle of this nightmare, and changed my life forever. For however long, it’s just awesome loveliness and every day I thank whatever God there might be for bringing out in me the kind of blind, ferocious love that makes me want to live forever and never leave my man’s side. Of course it’s not easy, and as a couple, we’re having to deal with a lot of crap we really shouldn’t be having to but what are you gonna do? Just get on with it, which it seems we’re doing.

If any of this rings true, recognise it, tell the other person, enjoy it, nurture it and never ever let it go. Love is the most powerful, pure thing in the world, truly the greatest gift I, you or anyone else could ever be given. It can cut through ANYTHING. Anything. I would have been happy with a fifth of what I have now, so yes, whilst I have had some shockingly bad luck over the last few years, receiving that first tentative email on a cold February evening last year was the best piece of luck I’ve probably ever had. And who can say that?

So my little cherub, if you’re reading this (which undoubtedly you are, about 5 days later than everyone else), on the eve of our very first Christmas together, thank you for still being here, for taking the piss out of my increasingly balding bonce, for our early morning breakfasts we’ve invested an hour in every day since we met, for the big gangly legs that seem to sneak under mine on the sofa increasingly these days, for the cuddles with those big, spindly arms, for everything. I hope this is the first of many Christmasses. And guess what…? SO MUCH x


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