It's an unconventional love story, to be sure. But since when am I (or is anything else about my life) predictable?
All, this is Steve. We met online, in September, and were exclusive mid-October.
I'd gone online this summer, hoping to find myself a fling while I had a little bit of hair and some social energy. (Don't judge. So what if I like free movies and free dinners?) Steve was... not looking for a fling. (Because he's a better person than me.)
I wasn't sure (read: honestly did not think) that I had it in me to be in a relationship, especially with someone new to my life. On so many levels, I am not who I used to be, and I didn't think I would be able to invest the energy into getting to know someone. Nor, frankly, did I expect that I'd meet a man who would want to invest in a future with me, knowing that I had cancer, was currently between treatments, and that the chemo shoe was bound to drop in the next few months.
But... I met someone who did want to invest in a future. And he bought in, big.
He brought his compassion and his empathy and his kindness and... his... erm... guns... right into my house, and he has changed my life.
This man who I have next to nothing in common with, as far as his love of all things Star Wars and my conviction that I was meant to live (upstairs) at Downton Abbey, wanted to be a part of my life. So much so that he talked me off multiple ledges in the beginning, and has firmly stuck himself in the mud of the not-so-much-fun that is chemo.
When I wasn't sure if I wanted to put up Christmas this year, because I thought it would be hard to have a reminder that I wasn't living my normal holiday, his was the voice that reminded me that, no matter how crappy I feel, what has always made me happy will continue to make me happy -- and that, if I didn't put up my tree, the cancer would win.
When my hair started to fall out, and I was crying because I was losing (again) what had always made me beautiful, he stopped me, mid-sentence, and corrected me, saying that while he was sure my hair had made me feel pretty... I needed to know that it wasn't my hair, long or short, that had ever made me beautiful.
He's taken me to my doctor appointments, rubbed my feet when they're swollen, and held my hand while poison is pumped into my veins.
He brings me flowers, and Taco Bell, and whatever candy I tell him that I want from the gas station.
And he bends over to kiss my cheek while he's pushing my wheelchair.
I wasn't looking for a relationship. I wasn't expecting to find love, especially now, in this season of my life, smack in the middle of cancer treatments. But man alive, am I glad that I did.