"I love you."
It's not like he never says this to me. I know I am quite loved and I really never question his love for me, but it is rare that he'll just out of the blue say it. In a text.
So I responded a little quizzically, wondering what brought his declaration on, and there was silence.
It sent me into a bit of a tail spin. A ridiculous thought process that ended with my husband lying on the ground somewhere, mortally wounded and with his dying breath thought to type me that he loved me. To leave me in this world knowing that I was adored and loved by him. So that I would never doubt it.
This is a haunting peek into my messed up head. Having fun yet?
When he finally thought to respond to my calm (yet secretly panicky reply), there was, in fact, a reason behind his kind words. He had found something I had written a few years ago and I guess he found it endearing or something.
Thus... he loves me.
When I admitted to him later how much his text had panicked me, he chuckled and wondered, really, if he was texting with his dying breath, would he really put a period on the end of the sentence?
Good point, I suppose.
Which I had actually thought of while I was pacing the floor, but in my defence, my husband is a little bit of a stickler for punctuation. And grammar. And... well... anything literary. My two word sentences drive him crazy. So, it was perfectly logical to me that my husband would make sure that his farewell text had a period on the end.
But I've learned my lesson. From now on, when I get an odd text from my husband, I will only panic when he doesn't include the correct punctuation. Which will probably be never. So, I guess I'm safe.
No comments:
Post a Comment