Prison Love III: Endure – Originally posted May 24th, 2018
Here we are. Two years since I first stepped inside a prison to see him. What more is there to say.
Has anyone seen the ending of Fifty Shades Freed? Where Anna watches Christian play the piano and she recalls all the most memorable moments in their relationship. All the extraordinary seconds that have changed her life forever. She smiles and walks away gently – I feel like that now.
All the laughing hysterically until my abs hurt. The letters. The late calls. The jokes. The strength we give each other. The shared immeasurable amount of faith and hope. All the crying from the pain of missing him and him making it all okay during a quick phone call. Both knowing there is no doubt that we will spend the rest of eternity together. All the miscommunication that resulted in enthusiastic frustration – and how it evolved into us talking through it and coming out of it having learned more about the other… Making us stronger than before. The ways I’ve been able to provide for him to make his remaining time better. Him my rock, me his. All the times he has made me feel more loved than ever before. The way he looks at me so I feel like the most beautiful woman in the room. Going months without seeing him then having my heart beat uncontrollably when I’m finally in his arms for five seconds. The felt sense of love burning in my chest.
I’ve learned something arguably comical about love. True love does not waver. Hope may slip for a moment and faith in yourself will be challenged. But if you are truly IN LOVE (as they say), you never give up. You stay devout even through the toughest of times.
I have only seen him two times in eight months. Woah. To say it out loud seems like an eternity. It has certainly felt like it at times. Some days are worse than others. But I love him. And I will always suffer through the pain with him.
Something else comical is that I’ve been married and obviously divorced. I did it because I was codependent. This? This feel entirely different. It is different. He lives in my heart and he fills it with an undying love. He doesn’t complete me; we compliment each other.
There is a saying that goes something like: for every sentence served, the family serves time with him too. When he is in the hole, the family is in the hole too. When his heart aches, yours does too.
I am judged by family and who I thought were friends. The reasons? For staying with him, having his back no matter what, and knowing that I would never leave him. If you ask me? That is a trait not many possess or ever will. Devotion grounded in sound morals.
I go to bed every night alone. I wake up every morning so I can hold the fort down at home. I never let my depression conquer me because I won’t give in. I endure. I rise above the odds and choose to challenge myself in these times of heartache.
I don’t take one second of any day for granted because I know that when I don’t hear from him I have to put all my faith and trust in the fact that he is doing okay.
Reflecting, I am so grateful his mother made that post on Facebook saying he is in prison and that he needed support from friends. I am so grateful that I first walked into his tattoo shop back in 2010 where I spent many hours getting ink by him; it was just enough to know him in order to build upon that “client friendship” six years later.
Much, much more to come…