When one of my children gets an "owie", they require a kiss to make it all better. Even now as they are getting older and understand that it's the pain reliever or bandaid that really makes it better, they still need that kiss at the end to "seal the deal."
In much the same way, adults use words to soothe the pain that life causes. We know that the words don't make things all right by themselves, but, like a parent's kiss, they can help. I realized this last night as I emotionally fell apart. This wound is deep - in some ways, deeper than I think it should be. And like a child, I need the "kiss to make it better" just as much as I need the bandaid to help the wound heal. I have been strong over the past two weeks; I have held it together fairly well, but last night, as the cat running away turned into the straw that broke the camel's back, I became a child. I needed William to touch me, hold me, and to also reassure me in words that he loved me, that he finds me attractive, that he desires me - and that we would be all right. Unfortunately, William's "love language" is doing, not saying. He distrusts words. He finds them difficult. Yet when someone is in pain, you must speak to them in their language, not your own. Many tears were shed last night, but, finally, finally, William was able to find the words that I needed to hear and give voice to them. He held me and "kissed it and made it better."
By the way, the cat came home this morning. Maybe my karma is changing..