So...I met my girlfriend, my current partner, my sweetheart, during my medical school grind. There's two versions of how we met; the PC version, and the slightly more juicy version. I'll save those details for people who actually know me in person, haha.
She's the kindest, most loving, most caring and accepting person I've ever met. We clicked instantly, talking for hours and hours about everything under the sun. Games, books, movies, cooking, traveling, pets, life experiences, our future together. But...at that point she didn't know *ME*. And...I didn't know if she would still love *ME* if I told her. Hell, I never thought that anyone could love me. To myself...I was just baggage. A list of conditions to be dealt with, a burden that no one would want to bear.
It took a lot of courage to tell her. Hours of talking myself in and out of the plan, before crying and sobbing to finally get the words out. She never wavered one bit. She loved *ME*, and that was all that mattered. There's a saying out there...I'm not sure who came up with it, but it goes like this; 'if you don't love me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best'. My partner loved me at my absolute worst. And her love for me...makes me want to be the absolute best version of myself that I can possibly be, for her.
Is that the power of love? I guess so. She gave me reason to continue living, to continue my medical school grind, and so much happiness and joy in being with her that for a lengthy moment I forgot about my pain and suffering.
Thank you for being the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you, forever and always.
~ Macy/Hearth.
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