Derek, my love. On the outside the grass is turning green, little shoots and flowers peek out of the ground and a whole chorus of birds is chirping. I saw the big fat yellow cat lurking around the compost when I tried out the chair in my office; it seems all chairs have turned into torture devices.
I am doing my best to get better, being mindful of my limitations, so I can be your partner again. You told me today you needed me in ass-kicking form. I replied that I would work my way back to kicking ass and chewing bubble gum, and let’s be real, I don’t chew bubble gum.
On the outside I feel like I am missing a piece of me. Not the piece of liver that is nestled in your abdomen and that I know is furiously trying to keep up with you. But I’m missing the piece of me that is you, the only person that understands me. The only person I don’t get sick of. (Unless you’re eating watermelon, and even that’s mildly charming.)
I love you so much and I wish this wasn’t so damn hard. But you are, by far, the strongest person I’ve ever met. There are so many people you can mentally lean on right now when it feels like it’s just too much. Small comfort in the late night, sleepless hours of 6 Central. But they are all there, willing you through this, willing us through this. We will be back in fighting form soon, and you will be on the outside, breathing in the air; your new liver kicking-ass and me trying to keep up with you. See you in your dreams.