Waiting.  It always comes down to waiting.

I toss and turn.  I have six hours to sleep, and it’s not happening.  My mind is whirling and racing, defying every sedative, every trick that usually lulls the Sandman in.  The Blackberry blinks.  Text message.

It’s him.  He’s wondering why I’m still awake texting him.  I tell him, “I’m too scared about tomorrow.”

It goes in bouts:  I try and sleep an hour, then wake back up and start texting.  We remember how magical it’s always felt between us, how from moment one, we both knew there was a connection.  How we haven’t needed anyone like this.  I am distracted, and finally collapse into a two hour burst of sleep.

And tomorrow comes, and there he is, fresh from work, holding my hand until they call my name.  He’s there without being asked, without hesitation.  His smile is what carries me through the agonizing wait in a hospital gown and the painful tests and the knowledge that there’s a whole other week to go.  More waiting.

But I don’t wait alone.  He’s there, no matter what.  And it’s not just him; there are others, with their love and support and distractions.  I love them all.  But his support is striking in that no other man has been so steadfast.

Waiting another week is torture.  The news might be bad.  But it will be okay.  He’ll be there.

Day 153:  I’ll Stand By You – The Pretenders

Bonus:  Glee version, performed by Cory Monteith