My irreplaceable - part 2

How do I tell her how irreplaceable she is? How do I tell her without sounding trite or cumbersome? Words cannot convey the waves of gratitude I feel. Saying I love her does not suffice. I can show her, but that, too, is soon outgrown. 

God will have to show me how to protect and appraise her. How do I show love to someone I love so much? I am just a man, yet I carry an electric current of feelings for her. How do I tell her when I think of making love to a woman, I think only of her, and the thought of being with any other woman makes me sick inside?

When I walk with her and when I talk with her, I will be blind to all other women. I will see them. But not really. They will be obstacles I cannot run into like extras on a movie set. You see, she was the good girl who took care of things — the house, the kids, the finances, the family portraits, everything — while her husband was chasing women, often long into the night. While she laid awake wondering where he was and who he was with, something happened in her that breaks my heart, the remnants of which can be seen today, like craters on a battlefield.

She was broken both by her marriage and its ending. It's safe to say she was in a toxic, abusive relationship, which did unfathomable damage to her self-esteem and how she expects to be treated. And then the horrors of divorce further damaged this precious girl. That brokenness and the marks left on her by a man who did not know how to treat her means I cannot see her as a brand-new, right-out-of-the-box girl. Her scars and cracks make her all the more special to me. The things she feels I must feel too, at times, and not only feel, but understand. She's a woman who says just as much by her silence as she does with her words. I have to pay attention to what she does not say because those silences are protection. She is different, and I won't have her any other way. 

It's not easy to understand what happened in her marriage (in fact, I think she revealed only the tip of the iceberg, but I've done a fair amount of work for a woman's shelter in town and am familiar with their materials, and so much of what she told me ticks the boxes of spousal abuse). But it's not for me to fix. Only God can put her back together. Still, I can make sure those wounds do not reopen because I'm careless or stupid. 

Mr. Independent will have to give up some things, like his privacy. He will have to expunge all the trappings of bachelorhood, of course, but then he'll have to go further. She will have complete access. And there can't be any secrets. Trust is built slowly — sometimes painstakingly slow — with great care. There are no shortcuts. True, I didn't cause her to distrust men. But I can help build trust in one man. 

There are things I won't know until afterward, like why did she react that way to something so simple and ordinary? And then I'll hear the story, and my heart will break all over again for her. She won't tell me why she shies away from something or someplace, but I'll sense something is waiting there to tear her open again. But I won't let it. You can't have her like that again, whatever you are. I'll protect her to my death. 

For her, I will be a warrior. For her, I will love like there is no tomorrow. For her, I'll do anything. All of the excuses I may have given another will never be heard by her. Love rearranges us inside. If given the chance, I won't let anything stand between us. If given the chance, this love I feel will rearrange both of us. And that's a precious and perfect thing, but it's something I'll do only for one irreplaceable girl.



Thank you for reading. I hope to be back soon. I'm taking a break, and I'm thinking my audience may need one too (from all my whining). 

:)