Since my heart discovered the feeling that was born for Raul, it hasn't stopped vibrating.
When we met, I had the feeling of being able to be confident and calm in the net that he tended me with his understanding and wisdom.
Our love has faced numerous trials, all of them have been worthwhile, although, at the same time, they have all left their mark on our intense history.
Talking about my love for Raul could take millions of endless pages. Moreover, it is extremely difficult to talk about a feeling, because feelings are felt and lived, not explained.
In general, we associate the word love with images and beautiful sensations. In reality, that's what it's about to love, about turning everything that may not be so beautiful into something extraordinary and sublime.
One of the "social" obstacles we had to face was the age difference. There was no lack of anyone who sentenced a future sacrificed for me, having to, sooner or later,"take charge" of a man 20 years older than me.
Life, with its crazy twists and turns, proved that logic escapes from the pre-established schemes. Today he takes care of me, regardless of our birth dates.
Being together all the time is our modus vivendi. Together we form a symbiosis. In fact, many people don't recognize us if they see us separately. Together we are more than two.
It has always been so, but from my illness, our symbiosis has become stronger and deeper.
Raul is the one who fills me with pampering from the time I wake up until I close my eyes when I go to bed. He is the one who dries my tears, listens to me and understands my sorrows. He's the one who takes care of me, advises and makes me laugh out loud. He's the one who surprises me with wild flowers when I'm protesting about the "mess" he left in the room.
He's also the one who helped me empty the post-op drain. I cured with patience and delicacy the wounds produced by the adhesives that held the bandage on my newly operated torso. I would cleanse the stitches of the scars with alcohol and carefully check the magnifying glass for any signs of possible infection. It is he who massages me all over the body to "let the cells respond to love", as he always tells me.
Raul is the one who accompanies me in every medical visit, in every study and when I receive every result. Who takes me by the hand and watches my sleep during the administration of each chemotherapy.
He's the one who does the housework when I don't feel well or can't get out of bed.
Raul is the one who knows and loves every one of my scars. It is he who stood beside me when the doctor removed the bandage after the mastectomy and, for the first time, we saw my mutilated body. It's the one who loves me and finds me "sexy and attractive", even though I don't have a left breast.
He's my permanent image consultant. Who helped me cut my hair when I started falling for the first and second chemotherapies. He is the one who always loved my "bald" and helped me to put the handkerchief to protect my head from the sun.
Their displays of love go beyond the canons established by society, beyond poetic words or perfect images. His love is real, constant and unconditional.
That's why every day I wake up I know love. Thank you, Raul, you're my life... and you're my love.
