Tiny Diamonds...A Love Story
My husband proposed to me with the most simple, modest diamond. It was definitely not the stunner I was hoping for (or foolishly even expecting), but there was no way that I would ever have said no to that one question that would change both of our lives forever. Even though, in my egotistic pride, I have since made fun of him for that tiny diamond (since I knew he could have afforded a bigger one) - I still would never trade it - even if given the chance now. Even though, at one time, I was paranoid that my husband didn't love me enough to buy me the ring that I was in love with - I realize now that that simple ring is the perfect symbol of all that is precious in my life. Because the giver of that ring is a simple man, and he shines in his ability to love. He has more facets, and more value, than any diamond could possibly represent. So, although I don't have the gorgeous sparkly rock that I can flaunt on my hand, I do have the husband - the husband that other girls, who own that rock, may never have. And he gives a love that sparkles.
Now, as far as marriage goes - I've made far too many mistakes, and my husband has made far too few. My husband has, unfortunately, born the brunt of my illness, simply because he's at closest range. And being that bipolar (in my opinion) becomes chronic with time, and has the ability to increase in severity - my husband has had to see me, and be hurt by me, at my worst. It's one of the things that is the least fair about this illness - that our loved ones sometimes suffer just as much as we do.
But illness will never be able to steal my memories of the time when I first met this man, who eventually became mine. I was intrigued by his name - Cyrus. Who has that name? Nobody else I know (aside from the ridiculousness we know as Miley). In history, a king had that name - and that is what that name has come to mean to me - "Cyrus - The King of All Husbands." He truly is the best husband a girl - sick or not sick - could ask for. He gets it. He knows what it means. He is a friend in the truest sense of the word. He's not afraid to speak up, if he knows it might help me. He knows how to word things ever-so-delicately, so as not to bruise my ego. But if he knows it's not the right time, he has the restraint to wait. He knows me inside and out. He has put up with my temper tantrums and manic fits, and I put up with his pouting and miscommunications. He is the reason I have whatever little bit is left of my sanity and dignity. He is a King to me - the King of my world.
My husband can do no wrong in my mind, because he does no wrong. He is a rarity among men. He is one of the kindest (although at times crankiest) people I know. He has hardened ever so slightly over the 15 years of our marriage, as anyone would do while putting up with a loved one's chronic illness. But Cyrus - hardened - is softer than any other guy I've ever met. He loves people, and because of that, he's been hurt by them. He's sensitive, and yet he takes charge. He's changed his share of diapers. He's cleaned his share of messes. He's a hard worker, and he makes beautiful things with his hands. He possesses a talent for seeing details that I have never seen before. He is one of the most intelligent people I know - with this amazing ability to figure things out, that other people just can't grasp. I learn things from him - and I love the challenge that brings. He can be selfish at times - like when he hides his favorite cereal from the rest of us - but he's most generous in the ways that truly matter. His art is how he loves - and he loves me - and he's not afraid to show it. He loves his little boys, and they want to be just like him. I hope that they are.
Just like with other people in my life - my intuition was spot-on when I first met my husband. I knew, in a matter of hours, that we would be together, and that we would be just right. I'm not sure if that's held so true for him, but for me - wow - I hit the jackpot! I really think we were meant to be together. Just the fact that he moved into the hole-in-the-wall town that I lived in - that he actually MOVED there - that was amazing to me! It was like the most perfect guy just happened to fall from the sky, and I was there to catch him! The fact that we got each other's sense of humor, that we had similar values and interests, that we meshed so well together, and had so many things in common - not to mention that he was beyond good-looking - he was just everything that a girl could ask for. He moved to my hometown in January, and we were married 8 months later - in September.
Life changes in 15 years. People change. Feelings change. Crap happens. But my husband has stuck by me, through the times he really didn't have to. He could have left. He could have dropped me, and I wouldn't have blamed him. But he didn't. I have no idea what this illness actually did to my brain - what process it actually went through to distort the image of the most perfect person I know. I have no idea why I started seeing him as lacking in some way, or why at one point, I didn't even see him at all. He was simply left in the corner of my mind. Forgotten. All of this - through absolutely no fault of his own - lost and alone, without the wife he once remembered. I still remember the desperation and heartbreak, quivering in his voice, as he was trying to convince the old me to come back again - as he was trying to squeeze sanity back into my sickened brain. He remained a perfect husband throughout the entire time my mind saw him as someone else. My mind was not my own at the time because - out of anything and anyone else in my life - he has been the one constant that I can depend on. My mind - this illness - this disgusting disease - warped my view of him and of us. I became distorted, and so did he. I wasn't the same person, with this poison injected into my brain, this invisible cancer - eating away at the very foundation of my reality. When I lost my mind, I lost myself - but thank God I never lost my husband. And for that, I can never repay him. Because of his forgiveness, that I didn't deserve, I may one day have a chance at forgiving myself.
There was a time when I felt like we were a power-couple. You know, one of those couples who other couples wish they could be like? And it was so sincere - we actually were like that together - it was not just a show for an audience. We were like Forrest and Jenny - peas and carrots - and we knew what love is. We did things the right way. We had it from the very start. We got to experience that most precious beginning to a marriage - that innocence that maybe a handful of other couples on the planet get to experience. We were awkward together, we had fun together, we grew together, we loved together, and we had kids together. Life was that fairy tale, that others looked at and envied. Then I got sick, and that picture was marred, and I'm sure now maybe some will assume that the original picture of our marriage was just a mirage. But it was real. We were the fairy-tale once, and we are on our way to being the fairy-tale once again. My husband is the only one I know who would allow that to even be a possibility - to be able to come full-circle - back to the innocence and sunshine that we once shared everyday, in the beginning. Back to that sickening sweet couple, that seems too good to be true. He is the only one in my life who has taught me what true love really is, and what it does, for another. The truth is - he is my only truth - the only real stability I've ever known. And maybe that is a more beautiful picture than one that hasn't been marred. To me, that original image I have of us, in my mind, will never fade. Those original feelings, I still feel, when his face pops up in my brain. I hold every other man to the standard that he has set, and no other man has a chance against him. He is, and always has been, the only one for me. The movie stars who make me swoon, only do so because they remind me of him. He will always be my blueprint for who I think the perfect man should be. I will always wake up to my most precious gem - not on my finger - but lying next to me. He always has been, and always will be, My Most Precious Person. My King. My Cyrus.
In reply to WP Daily Prompt: My Precious
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