My wife was exhausting yesterday and today. She’s going to hate reading that, but it’s semitrue. I say semitrue because it isn’t all her. It is her blackness. Oh yes, she has one too: hulking up. It is anger or sadness or selfishness without cognizance, without awareness, without context. It is, after a year of thinking, likely what caused her to cheat on me – lack of awareness, being hijacked by something inside her. After becoming aware, she’s better. She is better about not getting hijacked when the going gets tough. She’s not perfect, but she’s on the path, on a path just like me.
To help out her physical system, we’ve had to introduce an artificial blackness into her system. One that amplifies the degree to which her blackness appears and deamplifies the degree to which she can fight it off. It is for the better though – I know that wholeheartedly.
I am sick as hell right now. My body decided a week before the end of the school year to get hit by an all-out sinus, ear, nose and throat infection. It does that because I’m just too fucking stupid to fall down. And so when my wife is getting hijacked by this artificial blackness, it takes all of me to keep standing. But I want to keep standing. I want all of her. I want her to be healthy, which is what this medication will help her become. Artificial blackness be damned, it is not going to take away the love of my life or the love for life or my love for the love of my life.
So while she was exhausting, because of something outside her control, I will love her more than I thought I’d be able to love anyone. I am not a martyr. I do not enjoy this hurt, thus sickness, this exhaustion. I do enjoy being as strong as I can be, for her. I do enjoy being her love, and her being my love.