“I will beat you up so bad if anything ever happens to you,” Laura says to me after I cross four lanes of traffic against the light to come give her a kiss.
“You expect me to wait for these yahoos? I had a lady to get to,” I say.
These past two weeks, I watched my wife spread out on the couch, the last of the anesthesia wearing off, our pup doing his best impression of a nurse, or a shamanic healer, cuddling up to her. I’d make tea and check my phone to see if maybe the hospital happened to be calling at that very second with test results.
I looked over to her melting into the cushions as she held up her book. I pictured the couch without her in it and it made me want to throw it out the window. These are the moments when I love you just somehow doesn’t cut it.
Ya’aburnee – a word form Arabic that translates to you bury me. It’s an I love you so deep that to picture this world without you in it is utterly unfathomable. You best put me in the ground because without you, there wouldn’t be a point.
There’s love that feels nice. And then there’s love that feels so deep it hurts your heart.
The test results did come in. We’re on the other side of this thing. Thank you to all for your notes of love and healing prayers.
Ya’aburnee, my dear woman. I get it — I’ll cross at the light if it makes you feel better.
Photos taken at the Islamic Arts Museum – Kuala Lumpur