Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Over the course of our relationship, sadly, I have grown accustomed to dread any sort of holiday. Whether it be my birthday, Mother's Day, Christmas, Valentine's day, you name it, and that is because my husband hasn't always been the thoughtful type. Those holidays always meant something to me, but they never really mattered to him. So, slowly, but surely my hopes for what should be exciting days turned into me absolutely dreading those days.

After feeling the sting of being let down time and time again, I went into protection mode. Overtime, I just became numb towards any of those holidays. As they approached I would attempt to shove any thoughts of "what could be" out of my head and accept what I know will be. 

Just another day.

During our rocky period we laid out everything on the table. We showed all of our cards. And one of my cards was the fact that these insignificant holidays to him mattered to me. I explained to him that, for me, it was about being thought of. It wasn't about the gifts, flowers, chocolates, perfume. It was about the fact that you took a moment out of some day and thought of me in an affectionate, lovingly way. The only way you would if you were writing or doing something kind for someone you love. I don't think he ever understood it that way.

Ever since he has made an effort. Some have been silly and some "atta boy" tries, but nonetheless an effort and I have appreciated them and have felt loved ever since.

But, it wasn't until this Valentine's day that I felt loved in every way someone could. As you know I suffer from a couple anxiety disorders, Grave's disease, Hashimoto's, PTSD and OCD. And nearly 10 months ago I began taking medication to regulate my system. This was one of the hardest things I've had to accept and do. I keep my medications in a little black make-up bag in my purse. This little black bag represents so much more than what it is, but that is a whole other blog post. 

Upon leaving for work that day, he had written out "I Love You" in post-it notes on my steering wheel. 

I smiled.

Upon opening my Macbook he had a post-it note that read "Te Amo".

I shook my head and giggled.
Upon opening my little black bag to take my morning dose of meds a little note popped out that read "I Love You!". 

I cried.

I don't even think he realized what THAT note meant to me. Through all of the crap we have gone through dealing with my medical issues, with the fact that I finally succumbed to taking medication (a stigma that I no longer feel and one day will write a post about), the very bag that represents the darkest, hardest part of my life....and he still loves me. Even at my worst, even with the weight of the world resting on my shoulders, even on my worst days, even when I race to this bag for my "emergency" med, even when I snip at him because I can't deal with the stressors of day-to-day life.....he loves me.

This little note means more to me than any gift that he could ever give me. I keep this note right where he left it, so I am reminded each time I have to take my meds that he loves me.....all of me....

.....and I love him.

So, take away from this that even the smallest gesture can mean the world to someone. Even if it is a smile. You never know what someone is going through and how deeply it may touch them.


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