The right to love

The most beautiful thing in life is sharing your life with someone. Sharing the ups and the downs, the happiness and all the endless joy, but also quite a few sorrows. Having someone to share your home and personal growth with, someone who, annoyingly enough, knows you better than you do yourself. Someone you rely on to help you make the hardest decisions, help you steer your moral compass when your judgement is clouded and someone to hold your hand when going gets tough. I’m pretty sure that’s what they call “sharing a life together”.

If something were to happen to me and someone had to call the shots for me and my well being, it would have to be him. However much I love my closest friends and relatives, they will never come anywhere near knowing me like he does. As I said, he often knows what I want before I’m even sure myself. That’s also why I would, when the time is right, like to have it on paper. So everyone else knows it is him I confide in and trust to always do right by me.

If I end up unable to look out for myself, unconscious in a hospital bed with cords attached to me, it will be him sitting at my bedside. And he will know what to do if something had to be done. It is my ultimate safety net, a security and a wonderful blessing. It is love.

If someone tried to take that away from me, I would be crushed. Luckily, no one can. Luckily, my soulmate happens to be a boy. Because if he weren’t, the love of my life would sit at my hospital bed as a complete and utter stranger.

Go ahead, tell me more about how you think you’re entitled to your opinion. Please, do explain to me how you think yours is a love worthy of acceptance and someone else’s isn’t. Try imagining yourself on that bedside and do let me know, how you would feel.