By B. P. Crouse
“You resent me. You hate me, I know you do. I hate myself.”
“No, I don’t hate you. Never you.
This disease — it I hate. It I resent. The hollow beast chipping away at your life, consuming you, twisting your body. This curse stealing your spirit, washing away your vibrant soul.
I want to slay this demon.
Staying up in the dark, pleading for your next breath, fearing it won’t be — you won’t be.
Afraid you don’t know you’re my everything.
No darling, the thing killing you — I resent it. I hate it. You I always love.”
“I love you more.”
This makes so much a sense. I lost my wife to cancer. I hate the cancer but I loved her. It is so easy to hate the one you love.
Thank you for your comment and sharing your experience.
Short, succinct, and like it really is, trying to help someone deeply loved, fighting a disease that ultimately kills. Been there, done that, doing that while hanging on to that love, the lifesaver, if we let it.
Thank you. Glad it rang true for you too.