I love him and he loves me.
Sitting on the porch and letting the fresh air brush through my hair, I smile thinking about him. I can feel his presence around me, all the time. His flirtatious smile, playful talks, and infectious laughter plays like a reel in my mind. He’s always around, watching me.
Sometimes I feel like I can’t take it anymore, but I know he wouldn’t want me to give up on him and his love. He’s like the wind to my sails. Without him, everything’s still as a photograph. A photograph that keeps reminding me of the nerve calming and heart racing moments that I’ve spent with him.
My mind keeps racing through the memory track over and over again. Our memories are the only nodes connecting our future to our present and our present to our past. I’ve never even for once regretted my decision to be with him.
One can simply never understand the feeling I’m talking about until and unless they’ve been through the same. I’m no expert on the subject called love, nobody is. I am simply a benefactor of love. It has the strength to uplift a lost soul from the dearth of loneliness. That’s what his love did to me. That’s what he did to me. And that is exactly what I’ll do for him.
I still remember how once we fought over a petty issue. That was something we often did; fighting over something that didn’t even pass the benchmark of being called petty was our way of telling each other how much we wanted to be together.
It was a similar time and we were both arguing in full swing when suddenly he stopped and hugged me and said, “I simply couldn’t have asked for anything more from destiny. Having you, screaming and shouting around me fills my world with happiness, a happiness I can’t express in words. Our arguments keep us and our relationship alive.”
I remember having laughed on his statement. I was more of a baby in our relationship, always demanding, screaming and fussing over nothing. And he was the Mother. Compromising, understanding and putting up with all my tantrums. But life was smooth and simple with love having settled comfortably in our lives.
We still love each other, and we’re still together and we still argue over ‘not even petty’ issues. The only difference these days is that he doesn’t even utter a word. But that’s not a big deal after all because he smiles at all my jokes, and the sparkle in his eyes says a lot more than any set of spoken words could ever convey. A tiny droplet rolls down from my eyes and ends on my lips reminding me of his soft lips meeting mine.
“Visitor no. 23”, calls a voice from a near distance and I get up in response.
I am not allowed to touch him or even go anywhere near him. There’s a small glass wall between us with a little hole in it for us to talk to each other. He smiles as he sees my face. I say “I love you” and he replies with a blink. I know he means that he loves me too. After all, it’s been two years, and I’ve finally mastered the art of listening and understanding without him having to say a word.
Two years before he was detected with symptoms of schizophrenia and since then the condition has only worsened. But I know no matter how hard the time is on us, our love has the power to conquer it all and I can pull him out of his misery just like once he did. I am hopeful and no power in this world can shake my hope.
Because I love him and he loves me.
Crafted with brevity for select stories to make certain you see what others don't; sent every Friday
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