A promise on the past...

There are many difficulties that come with such a substantial, if temporary, distance between us. Watching you struggle last night without the ability to put my arms around you is among the hardest, and one that I know we share. When you’re sad, I want to hold you. When you’re scared, anxious, nervous, I want to put my hand in yours and tell you, even without words, that everything will be alright, because it will, even if it isn’t the outcome we hope for, or is the one we most fear. I know this with absolute certainty because, regardless of how it turns out, I will be here for you. I can’t promise it will be okay, but I can promise that we will be okay. I have your back, no matter what.

Last night, as you told me stories of your life before me, and how you got to the place where you could find me (even if it was on the second try), inside yourself and in the world, I could see the sadness in your eyes, and I’d have given almost anything to take that pain from you. But I can’t. I recognize that and, even if I could, I couldn’t do so without unmaking in part the woman you are, and I’d never dream of doing that. I’m sure you feel the same about me when you hear my stories, on both counts. Instead, I think, the best we can do is offer comfort when walking back down those paths in memory, and, perhaps more importantly, the promise that we will do better. And I will. 

I give you my word that you will never have to go down those roads with me, my sweet girl. I don’t know what hardships life will throw at us, but I do know that I will be consummate and kind and considerate of your heart, and the practical aspects of our world. You won’t ever have to carry me for long, should you ever have to, and I will always be your partner in all things. You never have to be alone, nor go it alone, ever again, as long as I live. I love you, with all my heart and soul.