The following short story is inspired by my learnings in the philosophical idea that love is always accompanied by the greatest fear and pain in life.
It is also inspired by real stories of people who willingly marry into a situation whereby they know that their partner will die before them.
Hope you like it.
------
I always was a cynical bastard when it came to love.
You can thank my shitty experiences as a youngling. I was broken. I was hurt multiple times. Of course, I broke myself too with the dumb mistakes I made.
But you can also thank my wisdom and intelligence. WIth all the unhappy people out there and their dying relationships, one can only observe and wonder what truly is the point.
"True love? Give me a break. I am not that noble" was what I would tell my friends.
"Life isn't a rom-com. You think intentionally going through tons of shit together would rack up some karma points just so we can emerge as happily ever after? Fuck no. Life doesn't work that way.
Stress. That's the keyword we all forget. No person wants stress on purpose. No one wants to lose the excitement in life with some boring routine. Stop deluding yourself. Love isn't gonna eliminate stress just because. Even if you survive, the aftermath is a wasteland."
I would pause then.
"Just go for the money" I would conclude, mostly drunk by then.
What I would never say though, was that I was actually afraid all along.
Things just kept dying for me.
So why bother.
It didn't make any fucking sense.
The only modicum of sense I attained was when I randomly listened to some podcast discussing the philosophical nature of love.
Some dude who just had his firstborn asked, "How is it that the greatest love that has come into my life is also accompanied by my greatest fear? What if something happens to him? What if I am lousy father? What if he dies before me? How can I even begin to imagine a life without my child now?"
"Exactly" I nodded. I remember that I was driving.
"But that's just how it is, for the price of love is grief" the dude continued.
"Whatever form of love that has blessed your life, there is always a price. And it is grief. It never was free all along. That's what we missed out on. We must always expect a form of pain when love enters our lives. That is our payment.
The pain from missing them. The anger. The mistakes. The regret. The guilt. The shame. The what-could-have-beens. The loneliness. The confusion. Whatever. It sucks, I know. But that's okay.
Because that is all love too. It always was in the same package. You missing them now is love. That is how you honor them today. So be glad that you got to experience taking a loan out."
"Huh" I thought to myself as I made a turn. "Still..."
I still didn't want stress. I must be stupid to want them on purpose.
And then.
I met her.
I can't say much now because I don't have the words. I'd look ridiculous anyway. My friends all, beyond the shock had a good laugh. At first.
Let's just chalk this one up as I felt it right from the start or if you're still a child, she was "the one."
Things were indeed good. Nay. Great. Fantastic. Awesome. I never felt so happy. Friends and family alike were also happy, lauding us as a perfect match.
I cast all cynicism aside and went with it. I just knew I guess. I was ready for a cliched, routine life society expected out of us. Not just ready. I really wanted it. Stress and all.
Who cares if our feelings die out as we grow old? Maybe I'll get to finally be happy.
But the price of love is grief.
I got to see the bill early.
Her diagnosis came a couple of years into the relationship. Stage 4. It wasn't looking good.
Yeah we were distraught. Devastated even. Whatever plans we had and made were replaced by new ones.
Chemo. Radiation. Surgery. Hospital visits. Bills. Insurance. Turning my role into that of a caretaker. Changing my lifestyle entirely just for her. Seeing my own friends and family less.
There was just so much shit to think about.
The stress was just insane.
I won't deny that I thought to myself once, "I did not sign up for this."
I feel ashamed today for even thinking that.
The amazing part was that she tried you know? She tried to make me happy. She was so selfless.
"Do you really want this?" she asked me that one time, holding back her tears.
"This life ahead. It's tons of doctor appointments. I am going to be sick all the time. I can't even drink with you anymore.
It's really okay."
To leave. To be with someone else. To just disappear.
I knew she was thinking those, but couldn't say it.
I stopped what I was doing and looked at her.
"I already chose the secret option a long time ago" I uttered. "Pretty much a week after we first met."
And so, I got down on one knee and proposed.
I married her.
"Guys, I am getting married. I know this is super sudden and abrupt and may come as a shock to you all, but yeah, it's going to happen.
For those who don't know, the plot twist is that my wife-to-be doesn't have much time left. It'll mean a lot to me if you can show up. Details are as follows:"
That was the mass, blunt text I sent out to people who mattered.
I thought I was crazy for doing this, but none of my friends or familiy thought the same.
Truly humbled, I was.
The wedding was great. Most, if not all told me that that was the first time they saw me smile standing on that altar when she appeared with her father in that wedding gown. I guess that sounds like an exaggeration, but goes to show huh? I saw an angel.
We ate together. We danced together.
Once she decided to rest, she urged me to get drunk.
"Nobody is allowed to be unhappy today!" was what I roared to my friends as we raised our glasses.
With that, I declare that that was the happiest day of our lives.
My wife passed on peacefully 11 days after our wedding.
The sheer amount of pain I felt was astronomical. I was alone with her then. I was holding her hand till her last breath. The amount of tears was tsunamic. You think you're prepared, but you can never fully be.
I guess the joke is on me. Death really is an option.
Life went on with the ring on my finger.
Sometimes, the cynicism would sneak its way back in. Sometimes, I'd wonder what my life would be like now if I didn't meet her. Sometimes, I'd wonder if I made a mistake. Sometimes, I'd feel downright lonely and afraid about how to continue life without her.
But every time I catch myself feeling like that, I remember, "At least, for the first time ever, I got to say 'I love you' to someone.
And she took that with her."
It was just a price I paid.
And I think I got a pretty good deal out of it.