It was like dancing to your favorite song, with your favorite person, in your favorite place. Only I couldn’t dance, and I’ve seen better sights than my apartment’s community laundry room. Still. The feeling was epic.
I remember her saying, “I feel you throughout my body. I can’t feel anything else, but you.”
“I haven’t stuck it in yet.” I admitted.
“I know.” She whispered.
I knew I loved her before this moment, but this is the moment I will tell our grand children I knew. We danced until we couldn’t dance any longer. Afterwards we lay naked while our clothes washed under us.
“If I had one wish in this world, I’d wish that I could sing to you right now.” I said.
“Really?” She asked.
“I mean it. I’ve thought this out. This would be my one wish in a life full of wishful thinking.” I said.
“Why don’t you sing to me then?” She asked.
“Because I’m really bad. It wouldn’t have the same effect. It would hurt your ears.” I admitted.
“I’d still listen.” She urged.
I took a deeper than deep breath. “Oh how I love you.” I sang. “Oh how the sky is blue because I love you. Oh how the stars shine at night because I love you. Oh how everything makes sense because I love you.” I finished.
“Encore, Encore!” She screamed through crying eyes and bleeding ears.
This is love.
That was nine months ago.
“Push!” The room screamed in unison.
She looked up at me.
“I can’t push any more.” She said.
“It’s just a couple more.” I encouraged.
“I still feel you throughout my body, I can’t feel anything else, but you.” She whispered.
“Maybe it’s the baby inside you.” I teased.
“It’s you.” She reassured.
“Push!” The room screamed in Unison.
“I don’t think I can do it.” She admitted.
“Oh how I still love you.” I sang. “Oh how the sky is still blue because I still love you. Oh how the sky is still blue because I still love you. Oh how everything still makes sense because I will always love you.” I finished.
“Thank you.” She said pushing through crying eyes and bleeding ears.
Then almost everyone cried in Unison.
“The baby is here!” One shouted almost loud enough to drown out the nurse yelling, “The baby is here, but the mother isn’t breathing. Were losing her.”
I was losing her. I wanted to yell. Not we. It was I. However, I couldn’t speak, and the love of my life couldn’t breathe. She was gone, but not completely. I could feel her throughout my body, I couldn’t feel anything but her.
This is love.