by Bonnie Lass
A special bond between a man and a woman
|While I was on my walk last night, out of the blue, my knee started throbbing, and buckled a bit. Oh his poor knee. I knew it had awakened him. For the last half of the walk, I blew kisses for his boo boo’s. " Oh Len, I am sorry you hurt."
The moment we met, all those years ago, there was an instant connection, and we did not want to say goodbye. We chatted for hours, without getting tired or bored. We had so much in common. Neither of us was looking for romance, although one developed in time.
The connection we had felt continued to grow stronger and deeper every moment, year after year for several years.
At the beginning, Len and I could feel each other’s emotions more than anything. He always knew without a word if I was blushing or crying. He just knew. And without prompting would wish he could wipe away my tears. I always knew if he was smiling or wistful. It was if I could “see” him. We were very empathetic. I could feel if something was bothering him, and would surprise him by asking.
As our relationship and our bond evolved, both became more intense with every passing day. As the love flowered, the bond did as well. Conversely, as the bond grew, the love flourished.
I could feel the arthritis in his hands; he could feel my carpal tunnel. He would wish he could massage my neck or rub my temples when I had a migraine without a word from me. I wanted to run my hands through his hair for his headaches, and soak and massage his feet to relax him.
An insomniac since childhood, it is difficult falling asleep for me and I often awaken during the night and morning. Len would start the morning telling me he knew I had not slept well and the times I was up. He often awaked in a cold sweat, often because he missed me. I always knew.
Oversleeping and rushing for work in the mornings were always picked up by Len. He would mention it and ask if I made it on time and hated that I started my day that way. He’d be so upset that I did not get enough rest.
We knew how each other would react and what the other would say about any given situation. It was simply uncanny.
We found a great sense of intimacy and joy in this phenomenon. And it brought to us both reassurance. We were always in awe and oh so grateful that we were given these rare gifts of love and affinity.
I don’t think either of us ever expected it to end, especially considering the love and the connection we experienced. But the day I received some damaging information, I wondered if we could survive it. When Len contacted me that evening, he wondered if everything was okay because his heart had been racing all day. The irony is not lost on me, and surely not on him.
Len often told me he had never loved or been loved as he had with me. I believe that, even now. I am the key for his lock. I love him with a fervor that I never dreamed possible, and know I always will. He truly is my other half. His voice is my song and his face is my piece of fine art. After all these years, the thought of him makes me smile. He still gives me that little nervous tingle in the pit of my stomach. It has not faded or diminished in any fashion. I’ll always be glad I met him and shared love with him. I hope he can and will say the same.
I know when he misses me and I believe he knows how much I miss him and us.
Still, though we have parted, the connection is as strong as ever. Every time I feel him thinking of me or his sleeplessness; if I feel an ache or pain, there is a sharp stab to my heart. I don’t ever want him to feel pain or discomfort, but strange as it might seem, it gives me a feeling of closeness to him. It assures me that the connection and the thread are still strong. That is a comfort to me.
And so I am happy to say "Your knee is killing me."