Last night we won in triple overtime, and I didn't hit bed until 2 this morning, and we had to be at the W-B/S International Airport by 6:30 for a flight to Montreal. But I didn't mind, not in the least, and as sleep deprived as I am right now, I still don't mind. I can't even feel that physical ache that your muscles aquire when there is a lack of rest, I know it's there, but right now I can't begin to concentrate on that.
He needs me.
He talks about his family a lot, and I will admit, when we first started dating, and he talked about them with that cold emptiness that a serial killers talks about his victims, I didn't believe him. But after being there, around his family, I understand. Now, I am the victim of their sedate, but vile glares from the other side of a room, and his father's fake, pretentious smile. It bothers me, it bothers me a lot, especially coming from the warm family that I do hail from. But as much as it stings, it never matters, because I know that when we are gone, we still have each other. He has his public smile and his media laugh, but when we are alone, his smile is so much brighter- and it's one that he only gives to me, same as his laugh that is genuine and not in the least bit forced.
And today, today he was a puddle of himself. I know how much he loved his Grandmere, and when he talked about her, he glowed. I know today was very trying on him, I know how much he hurt when his family sat on the otherside of the church and only offered cold smiles with unforgiving eyes. He sat through the mass and mumbled his Creed and his mumbled prayers with more conviction than I have ever seen him do before. This was not about going because he had to, to make an appearance or act like he was still on good terms with his family, this was solely for his Grandmere and his dedication and his deep-seated love and admiration of her.
When we got home he fell apart. I got him in a bath and wrapped him in towels and we laid in bed and talked. So simple, but it's where some of our best memories have been made, just laying there face to face and talking with no inhibitions. And he talked about how much grief he was feeling, that he couldn't have been here for the wake and the actual funeral. I tried to console him the best I could, because that is all I can do, really. Be his friend and try to soothe his gaping wounds. He fell asleep now, but I know it is a restless sleep, the way he mumbles and tosses and turns, so I will go lay with him soon.
I want to be able to fix this for him, and make him realize he is a good person. But he has a hard time recognizing this and it will take time. Time I am more than willing to devote to this cause. But I guess that is what you do when you are in love.