In the shadow of two gunmen...

It’s 2 am. I’m still here. Of course I’m still here.

Where else would I be?

God, if you’re out there, listen to me. I’m begging you here. Give me this man back. Give this country this man back. He has not even begun to be all he can be.

This man, this man... so fragile inside but so... so... I can’t find the words. He’s precious. The world cannot afford to lose him. America cannot afford to lose him.

Aargh. Who am I trying to kid? You’re not stupid, God. You’re not fooled.

Stuff America. This isn’t about America. This is about me. I’m trying to sound all selfless and
appealing to you for the Greater Good, but the truth is -
I cannot afford to lose him.

He’s everything to me. He gave me that opportunity to find my confidence and start over. He gave me a reason to live. A reason to pick myself up off the ground.

Or was it him who picked me up? He said he couldn’t carry me. But the thing is, he did. His passion, his energy, his busy schedule even. His belief in me. His belief in me made me what I could be.

He makes me great.

He makes me all I can be. I’m not fully me when I’m not around him. It feels like something is missing. Right now sitting here at 2 am (well 2.27 am now) something is missing because he‘s not fully here. Part of me is missing. Part of me is lying on the hospital bed whether I am going to live or d..

Not going to write that word. Not even going to think about it. Lord, I pray for health and vitality. I pray for life. Life. Life. Life.

L I F E

His life, my life. Intertwined. I don’t think I can face life without him.

Oh my gosh. I’m in love with him.

****

It’s 6 am and I’m still here and now I’m panicking.

I can’t be in love with him.

That’s not in the script.

But it does explain a lot of things. The butterflies for instance. The tears when I read what he wrote in my beautiful book from last Christmas. The way I will do anything for him, go above and beyond the call of duty, every time, without any question, just because.

How did I not see this coming?!!!

What do I do?

Help me someone, what do I do now?

HELP!!! HELP!!! HELP!!! SOMEONE!!!

But I can’t talk to any of you. This has to remain unsaid. Otherwise... otherwise I have to... No. That’s not going to happen. He will get well, I will be by his side, I will help him to become all he can be. There is so much in him. So much, so much good.

Help me God...

I’m a wreck.

Health, strength, vitality, please God I pray.

The rest we will deal with somehow.

*****

I want to add an epilogue to this. I know that I was just going to stick the pages in, in no particular order (which is driving me mad, by the way – if this baby takes much longer I am going to have to start putting them in date order or color coding them or something), and not comment. Let the pages speak for themselves. But here... Here I can’t keep the emotion that’s welling up inside me from spilling out.

That night... I can’t think about it without crying. Sometimes, even after all these years, all this water under all these bridges, I wake up sweating from a nightmare like that one and I have to turn over and I have to look at him and touch him, and sometimes I have to wake him up and get him to hold me, hold me till I stop crying, till I stop shaking, till I remember all this was a very long time ago and he’s got me, and I’ve got him, and he’s fit and healthy and all mine and there never needs to be any pretence again.

That night... Nothing has ever compared to it, and hopefully nothing ever will.

But the thing with that night too, is what followed it. The realisation that I was deeply, passionately, head-over-heels in love with him, that there was nothing I could do about it... literally nothing. Nothing. For the next seven years. (Like Jacob who had to work seven years for the woman he loved. But then he got the wrong one. I tried not to think about that.) You know, that was like a hand reaching down inside my gut and twisting everything. Seven years seemed like a very long time.

It was.

That night was just the beginning of a gut-wrenching eternity.

Oh no. I’m welling up. I’m going to have to call him. His staff are going to love that. Still, we can put it down to hormones this time... Sometimes only his voice can calm me down. I wonder if that’s what will stop the baby crying too.