Burdens...

You asked me once if something or another that I did for you was burdensome. As I do, I gave it some thought before answering, though it needed next to none, and told you no, it wasn’t. As I also do, I continued to give it thought, over time, so that I could shape a better answer for you, because this is, at its heart, a very important question. Let me share what I’ve come to…

First, in a very technical sense, I suppose all things that we do for others are burdensome, in that they use a bit of some precious resource, be it time, energy, or anything else of which we are given too little in the span of our lives. But, and this is the important part, not everything feels burdensome. Lifting a crying child, consoling a bereaved friend after a breakup, driving the long way home after an exhausting shift just to spend a few extra minutes with someone we love…All of these things are, I suppose, burdensome, but I don’t think of them as burdens, because the return on them is far more valuable than anything which we may lose. To bring peace to a child’s world, to ease the suffering of a friend, to steal from the careless hands of time and fate a little more of the love that sustains us, all of those are worth every bit of what we give.

Writing these letters, for instance, as I know your heart well enough to know that you may consider whether they are burdensome to me, takes me time and energy, certainly, because I think them through, choose what I hope are the right words, and then commit them to these pages, as you deserve no less. And it’s easy to think of only the cost there, especially when we’ve been taught our whole lives that our needs are less important than the wants of those around us. But I would ask that you remember the benefits, too, that more than offset any amount of expenditure. 

When I write these letters, I feel you with me. I imagine we’re sitting together, and I’m telling you all of these things. I can see the beautiful intricacies of your reactions, the bubbling up of laughter, the deep blushes, the slow, secret smiles that you smile only for me. For your reaction alone, for those things, and for the hope that I feel this gives you, the connection to me, as well, during your absence from me, I would write them. But I also, selfishly, get my own happiness from them, because I can feel the love that connects us as I write them. It gives me hope, too.

On a deeper level, I wonder, too, if a life spent in service to others, being unseen has left the same marks on you as it has on me. I grew so used to not being allowed my own happiness, because of the inconvenience it placed on those around me, that I had to learn to find my joy in the happiness of others. While a beautiful thing to learn, most assuredly, it took me a very long while to learn that I can be happy for myself, that I deserve happiness, too, and that I’m not a burden to those around me, just for needing things, even wanting some of them. I still struggle with that scar, but you, my love, have done wonders in healing it. You offer me things, words, gestures, all the little ways that you see me, and remind me of my worth every day, help me to heal those wounds. I want to do the same for you. You are never a burden to me, my sweet girl. You are always worth the time and effort. Your needs are important. Your wants are important. Just as mine are to you, without a second thought. 

I think this is one of the ways our hardships have made us perfect for one another. We both understand what it’s like to feel unseen, to have to put aside the things we need for the comfort of others, to deny ourselves joy so that we don’t make waves. You’ve helped me to see, and I hope I do the same for you, that the right people don’t see us as problems, but as solutions, as brilliant additions to their world, to be loved and cherished for all that they are, not just the pieces that fit into how they want us to be. Thank you, my heart, for that. I can’t ever properly express my gratitude for it, but I hope to spend my whole life trying, as we keep being us with one another. I love you, with all that I am, have been, and hope to be in the light of your eyes. I’ll be right here, now and always.