BLACK TEARS

We were lying in bed.
Like any other afternoon.
But this was no ordinary afternoon.
We were there under the covers.
Dressed but stripped of any pride.
You stroked my hair, playing with it.
I had my head hidden in your chest.
Up until half an hour ago, we had been sitting on that same bed.
You had tears in your eyes, you were holding your face in your hands, avoiding my gazes.
I used to cry with you, so vulnerable to see you sick.
You were trembling, sobbing.
"I can not lose you" you said to me in a faint voice.
"You don't love what I have become"
But at that moment I loved you even more.
We both got scared.
I am a mess, you know.
You feared for a moment that I was leaving and you freaked out.
A bit like I usually do, only more conspicuously.
I dried your tears and in the meantime I was making myself strong for both of them.
Because in the end the strength lies, if it comes to you.
Because if something scares both of you, I must always be there, to belittle it, to convince you that everything is fine.
You took me with all my problems, you picked me up and you decided to look after me, with all the patience and love of this world.
So when you go haywire, I'm there ready to play the part of the "healthy" and "reassuring" one, even if it doesn't suit me at all.
In the end we hugged tightly and pulled ourselves up;
not that we had eliminated all problems, in fact not at all.
But we were there for each other.
So once the thoughts died out, we remained embraced, with no words to say.
Only in a moment did you break the silence:
"Vanessa, I love you"
I said it all in one breath, as if it were the most important thing to say. Which, after all, it was like that.