In the middle of all our sorrow, the Boy and I managed to have a few really good hours together last night. I thought it would be a lot longer before we could laugh together again, but I guess this shows we really do have to take every day as it comes because we can't predict how things are going to be. I think being as close as we are will really help us, and maybe happy periods are sooner around the corner than I had imagined.
We had a simple evening but after the complexity of the last week I treasured it, and it felt beautiful. The Boy made us some dinner - chicken fajitas, one of his favourites - and we cuddled on the sofa watching a couple of new television dramas with a few drinks. Entwined in each others arms I felt happy, we were relaxed and exchanged jokes, and it felt so natural. We lay together on the couch just kissing. I'd forgotten how lovely that can be. We haven't 'just kissed' for a while - it's always led on to further action! But the after effects of the weekend's procedures prevent that for a week or so. I felt lost in the Boy and so in love. And this is what real love is - it's there in the good times, but it's there as an even stronger force in those hollow times when good feels swallowed up by bad. It was a delicate and gentle reminder that I can still feel really strong happy emotions, and that we will be ok. The Boy and I will be there for each other and take care of each other for as long as we both shall live. And if life is just to be me and the Boy, then it will still be full of more wonder and amazement than many folk dare to imagine they will experience.
It was just for a few hours, and I've awoken this morning wracked with sadness once more, but it was a precious, precious taster for me that life goes on and while the pain may be winning out just now, it won't always be this way. I had a glimpse of hope, and I've heard this song in my head ever since... You Can't Always Get What You Want (Rolling Stones).