They were two wounded souls, so afraid of getting too close to anyone, yet also so much in need of each other. He didn't know how she felt, but he felt like she had given him back some of his life, some of his hope and reason for living. And that was something he could never repay her for.
The meaning of life: to love and be loved more than anything. To put someone else above all others, and to have them do so equally for you.
He'd shown his heart to her, a heart that had been damaged and ravaged by time and circumstance, but had somehow come close to being whole once more....Two people, broken, bruised, battered, yet back on the path once again. If she had saved him, well then he had saved her, too. And she'd never forget any of the things that he had done for her that had helped her to heal, deep inside--where no one else could see her except him.
"I love you more than I've ever loved any other man in my life. I trust you. I have faith in you. You saved me from the worst part of myself, and built me up into the best that I could possibly be. And you didn't ask anything in return. And only someone who loved you unconditionally, with all their heart, could ever do that for you."
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Commchick-
ReplyDeleteI just noticed this particular post - two and a half years after the fact. I must admit, it actually brought a few tears to my eyes. I suddenly realized that I DO miss Claire and Reilly. It's been so long since I've immersed myself within their complicated, sweetly-melancholic company.
So, I took a moment to breathe, to think, and to relive them for a bit. And remarkably, it was like recalling long-lost friends; those you still love, but simply haven't thought of or spoken to for a while.
So, I thank you very much for having shared this... :)
Best wishes from this grateful author -
T.C. Barnes