(Hope you all don't mind me posting something here that has nothing to do with ME/CFS. There's been a major change to my life via my partner's job and I felt it ought to be shared as part of my journey.)
I don't want to be tough. I don't want to be strong. I don't want to be "okay".
I want to SCREAM and cry and generally freak out. Because I fucking love you and I don't want to see you get hurt. Or worse.
How the hell did you land such a high risk job without even looking for it? It's like some cruel joke. I'm sitting here crawling out of my skin, simultaneously numb with shock, trying to digest it, trying to find some sort of peace with our new reality.
Yet my gut is absent a "no" reaction.
It's not just about the money. I've advised you to quit other jobs when we were in similar straits. I'd rather experience financial ruin than have you trapped in a job suffering mistreatment.
This is different.
The danger is greater.
But - curse your freakin' badass background - it just might fit you like a glove.
And.
You just might love it.
So.
I KNOW you. I've always had a feeling you'd get back in the action one way or another. Even when you outright denied it. I don't call you "Soldier" for nothing. It's frickin' in your blood to help, to protect others.
Your grandfather would be so proud.
Admittedly, so am I.
Some of the very traits that drew me to fall in love with you in the first place are what makes you perfect for this position.
I'll find a way to be alright. Because despite all the times I talked you out of applying for the police academy, I am silent now. It's not about holding back the words...they just aren't forming.
Neither of us can deny how right this feels.
And it SUCKS. Holy fucking crap, it sucks so bad. I want you safe. I want you with me. I want to spend holidays and weekends with you. This is going to be one hell of a transition, and we've had no time to prepare for it.
But you know what would suck more? Giving up on a part of yourself that you've always wanted to pursue.
I can't let you do that just because I'm gonna worry. Or because there's risk involved.
Life is full of risk. Live it anyway.
So I'll kiss you goodbye at 4:30am and tell you I love you. I'll ask how your day went when you get home and safeword when I can't hear any more. I'll be here supporting you every step of the way, and I'll lean on my own support team when it all feels like too much.
And I WILL be tough. I WILL be strong. I WILL be okay.
Count on it.
I don't want to be tough. I don't want to be strong. I don't want to be "okay".
I want to SCREAM and cry and generally freak out. Because I fucking love you and I don't want to see you get hurt. Or worse.
How the hell did you land such a high risk job without even looking for it? It's like some cruel joke. I'm sitting here crawling out of my skin, simultaneously numb with shock, trying to digest it, trying to find some sort of peace with our new reality.
Yet my gut is absent a "no" reaction.
It's not just about the money. I've advised you to quit other jobs when we were in similar straits. I'd rather experience financial ruin than have you trapped in a job suffering mistreatment.
This is different.
The danger is greater.
But - curse your freakin' badass background - it just might fit you like a glove.
And.
You just might love it.
So.
I don't WANT to be tough. I don't WANT to be strong. I don't WANT to be "okay". ...but I will be.
I will be because it is you.
I will be because it is you.
I KNOW you. I've always had a feeling you'd get back in the action one way or another. Even when you outright denied it. I don't call you "Soldier" for nothing. It's frickin' in your blood to help, to protect others.
Your grandfather would be so proud.
Admittedly, so am I.
Some of the very traits that drew me to fall in love with you in the first place are what makes you perfect for this position.
I'll find a way to be alright. Because despite all the times I talked you out of applying for the police academy, I am silent now. It's not about holding back the words...they just aren't forming.
Neither of us can deny how right this feels.
And it SUCKS. Holy fucking crap, it sucks so bad. I want you safe. I want you with me. I want to spend holidays and weekends with you. This is going to be one hell of a transition, and we've had no time to prepare for it.
But you know what would suck more? Giving up on a part of yourself that you've always wanted to pursue.
I can't let you do that just because I'm gonna worry. Or because there's risk involved.
Life is full of risk. Live it anyway.
So I'll kiss you goodbye at 4:30am and tell you I love you. I'll ask how your day went when you get home and safeword when I can't hear any more. I'll be here supporting you every step of the way, and I'll lean on my own support team when it all feels like too much.
And I WILL be tough. I WILL be strong. I WILL be okay.
Count on it.
