So, normally I don’t do sappy posts about how awesome my boyfriend is – but please forgive me this one time. And I know I’ve already talked about being diagnosed but this is a more positive side of things that happened over the course of the first three months.
This year I finally met my boyfriend’s parents. I say finally because we’ve been doing a bit of a tango for over three years now.
Three FREAKIN’ years.
We started dating back in the spring of 2012; three months later we broke up. Two months later we started hanging out. Then for the next year and a half (ish) it was a combination of hanging out, then trying to be friends, then going on non-date dinners – all the while I was falling more deeply in love with him. And for him, nothing had changed. He saw giving it another try as something that would crash and burn, hurting us more in the end.
Fast forward to March of 2014, March 28th to be exact when I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. I called him at 11 pm when I finally got my cell phone back, and he came over. He sat next to my hospital bed while my dad snored on the cot, he held my hand, and I felt safe again.
I was in the hospital for a little over a month receiving my first round of chemotherapy. He would visit at least once a week, spend the night, bring me chocolate and Gatorade, and cuddle me when I felt like I couldn’t go on. He told me I was beautiful the day after I shaved my head, a decision made because I couldn’t stand to see my hair covering the floor.
Early on I tried to give him a way out. I told him just because I was sick, it didn’t mean he needed to be there – his life didn’t have to stop just because mine did. But he stayed.
The following months after I was released from hospital prison we got closer – so close that we finally had “ the talk” – a talk I had been dreading out of fear that he would want out. The talk where I told him this was it – either we really put everything in and try again, or nothing. After two agonizing days he came over to tell me he wanted to make it work.
The next month he met my entire family, I met his close friends, and he cleared out a drawer for me – well, half a drawer. And then, he told me “I love you.”
Maybe I’m an exception to the rule – maybe holding out for someone doesn’t always work this way. But I do know that I’m happier than I’ve ever been, that I couldn’t imagine a future without him, and that when you ask people to step up to the plate they do.
Since being diagnosed I’ve seen how quickly life can change; how you won’t always get a chance to say the things you’ve wanted to. You can’t expect someone to know what you want – after all, we aren’t a team of mind-reading superheroes. But, if you speak your mind and ask someone to step up, chances are what you see just may surprise you in a wonderful way.