Another 29th. I wonder if I will ever stop counting the months he's been gone. Some widows say they never stop and others say they wake up one day and realize they haven't counted for a while. I'm not sure which widow I want to be, and to be honest with you, I'm not sure if I even get to choose, which is probably for the best.
But what I do know is, no one will ever love me the way he loved me and I will never love another the way I loved him. He made me feel so special. He spoiled me rotten with his love. Now don't get me wrong, he wasn't perfect and I wasn't perfect but we really were great together.
When I talked to my friends about how much he loved me or how I knew he loved me, it always came back to the same example, which seems so ridiculous, but it's the little things I guess. My husband would ALWAYS get me something to drink for dinner. I could be standing right next to the refrigerator and I would ask him to get me a glass of whatever it was I wanted to drink and he ALWAYS got it for me. He never said "You're right there, get it yourself!" Never, ever. He always got it for me. He also never said no as I reached for something yummy from his plate, even if he was saving it because it was his favorite too.
I also miss his touch. Throughout our ten years together, he used to roughly grab me or do what he called a "love tap" where he would give me a little slap on my bottom that I usually was not in the mood for. I would complain and he would usually reply "you should be happy I want to touch you, one day you'll miss it." Oh how true those words are right now. Whether it was rough or gentle, it was usually always jarringly rough, I still miss his touch.
It's the funny things I took for granted that I miss the most, the things that used to irritate me. Now that he's gone, I want to hear him snoring next to me, that would mean he was still here. I want to hear him gag while he brushes his teeth, that would mean he was still with me. I want him to give me "love taps" and know that he was still here to touch me.
The fact that he chose me and wanted to be with me, the fact that he chased me and was willing to change some of his bad behaviors for me, the fact that he never let me run away when things got tough, the fact that he told the doctors at the hospital that all he wanted to do was go home and spend time with me when he knew the end was imminent, how this person dedicated himself so completely to me that in his final days, all he thought about was not leaving me alone and making sure I was taken care of, all remind me of how much I was truly loved. No one will ever love me the way he loved me and I will never love another the way I loved him. That's a fact.
And since I'm still counting, I really miss his love.
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