When I Thought I Couldn’t Love You More, I Did


Finding you was like being handed a gift on an ordinary day. It wasn’t my birthday, it wasn’t Christmas, I did absolutely nothing to deserve it and yet life handed me a wondrous, delightful, unexpected gift.

With each hour of conversation, with every lunch spent looking at one another, with every kiss that shook the core of my existence, I fell more in love with you.

The love I felt for you was overwhelming; feelings that surpassed every fairy tale filled image I had ever concocted in my head. I didn’t think I could love you any more than I did during those cool fall evenings.

Christmas came. Our differences emerged; our childhoods beckoning us to recognize that our beliefs were not the same. The magic of the holiday season felt tarnished with the anticipation of not being able to share it with the person who meant the most. On Christmas Eve, you made me close my eyes and hold out my hands. I giggled at the unexpected absurdity of it, but waited with bated breath. I could hear the pieces twinkling against each other as you slid the box into my hands. I opened my eyes to my favorite childhood toy set. A toy set I had told you about late one night over tears of a stolen childhood. That day you handed back a piece of my innocence and I didn’t think I could love you any more than I did then.

The spring came and so did the heartache. The doctor’s words fell on deaf ears as I sat in disbelief. I don’t know how I expected you to react; to leave, to choose the easy way out, to watch from a distance as I struggled. Relationships had ended over less. You were different; you stayed. You talked to me every night as I felt weak. You squeezed my hand while I cried. You kept me comfortable.

The cold air saturated through the blankets and forced my limbs to curl inward to ward off the discomfort. I pulled the blanket up to my chin and rolled onto my side. I felt the tug of the sheets in protest and an arm reaching across the bed. I felt the warmth of your body, the warmth of the perfect body enveloping mine. The tickle of your beard rubbing against my bare shoulder forced an unwanted grin to spread across my face.

Despite my resistance, there was no feeling I wanted more. You urged me out of bed and I trailed behind you to the kitchen. You scrambled the eggs; I fried the bacon. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched you set the breakfast table as I poured another glass of orange juice. On a morning like that, I didn’t think I could love you more.

Your infectious smile, your playful eyes, your selfless nature amazes me more each and every day. You have proved to me that it is possible to fall more in love each day and with every laugh, every tear, every kiss, I do just that. I don’t know how I could love you more than I do now, but I know, without a doubt, that you will prove me wrong. And for once, I’m willing to be proved wrong.