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What Makes a Perfect Love?
It's not what you think.
Real love isn’t a rom-com. Real love isn’t about flowers and dates and grand gestures. Real love isn’t perfect. Real love is a partnership.
Your partner. Your best friend. The person you grow old with. Not just as a metaphor, but the person that stays by your side and holds your hand as your body slowly degrades.
The one who does the dishes, always, because they know how much you hate them.
The one who does the all the chopping because they know you love the cooking more than the prep.
The one who isn’t offended when you take one bite of the dinner that they just spent the last hour cooking and push your plate away because the smell of the meat is nauseating today and then takes the time to make you scrambled eggs and a protein shake that you can stomach instead.
The one who makes you an omelet when your blood sugar drops late at night.
The one who helps you up and walks you to the bathroom when you can’t walk on your own.
The one who takes the day off work without question to be with you during your treatment and takes copious notes because they know you won’t remember anything later.
The one who pushes your wheelchair through Disneyland without a second thought so that you and the entire family can enjoy the day together and not all be burdened by your illness and quick fatigue.
The one that stays up late with you when you talk incessantly during mania and then gets up early because you want them to go for a walk with you.
Not just the person that you smile and laugh and share joy and adventure with.
But the person who will also hold you when you cry and wipe up not just the tears, but the snot as well.
Who will hold your hand and help you find the way or just sit quietly with you in the dark if you aren’t yet ready.
Who won’t walk away because it’s too hard. Or even when you cry and yell at them to just let you go.
Maybe a perfect love isn’t about the good at all.
Maybe a perfect love is actually about having someone by your side, to hold hands with through this shit-storm called life.
Maybe it’s about embracing all the real, the everyday, the bad, the flaws, the scars, the anger, all the annoyances and still choosing that person to be your person. Still choosing every day to love them as much as they love you.
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