Some of you know my Lion because of me. Some of you know me because of my Lion. Others only know Him as my Sir. He’s an amazing man, a devoted father, a wonderful Sir, and I adore Him beyond all reason.
He was given horrible news last night – it’s His story to tell, and I won’t violate His privacy – but it devastated Him.
He called me, shared the news, and I cried for Him. He ended the call quickly – I both hated it and understood. And then I did something that I haven’t done in a long time. I prayed.
I’m one of the least religious people I know. I was raised with an overly healthy skepticism of organized religion. I respect other people’s views, even when I don’t quite understand, and only hope that others will respect mine. I consider religion and spirituality extremely personal and private. It’s not something you’ll catch me talking about too often. I don’t know who or what I prayed to last night, but I sobbed and prayed.
“Please, if you can’t make a miracle happen. If you can’t fix this, please just make him strong enough to endure it. Help him cope. Help him. Please. Please.”
I’ve begged for things before – mostly from my Sir. I have a better understanding of it now. This was abject begging. I would have given anything, done anything to know that He was happy again. I cried myself to sleep, still begging and pleading to I-don’t-know-who.
He once told me that knowing I was unhappy and that He was unable to fix it made Him feel helpless. I understand now. I cried last night – not for me, nothing happened to me except that plans will have to change somewhat. I cried for Him. Knowing He hurt, ached with sadness and nothing could be done to alleviate it. No magic words, nothing I possessed could help Him.
This morning, I felt certain He wouldn’t feel like talking – even to His pretty pet – and I knew He would keep Himself busy. I decided I would reach out to Him every time I thought of Him. An “I love you,” a kiss, a hug, whatever I could put into words and send Him, I would do it. It was cold comfort, I’m sure, but it was all I had. I learned I think about Him a lot – I finally had to slow down and limit myself to one text message an hour.
He called me around mid-morning. Hearing His voice, a little strained, very tired, and clearly worried, but still Him, made me smile. When I managed to get Him to growl in my ear (a little sass will do that sometimes), I knew that, eventually, He would be okay.
He and I are cut from the same cloth on a lot of things. This is one of them. He feels what He feels, but life continues. You have to put one foot in front of the other and keep going.
I just wish I was by His side each step of the way.