Love; In it's Purest or Deepest Forms.

"Zip your coat up all the way!" my husband says to our seven year old in her polkadotted parka as she dashes outside. “Ugh dad you always say that!”. “Because I love you”, he tosses over his shoulder at his fleeting child.

“Um no, that’s like, totally not gonna happen. I’m not talking to you if you’re driving”, Brittany says to Andrew. “Because I love you, idiot”, she says before ending the call.

“You told mom? You bitch!” Five foot six, ninety-eight pounds. I didn’t even recognize my own sister anymore. “You need help, Cynthia. I told mom about you throwing up because you look sick. You’re a walking skeleton.” She sat on the bed, shaking her head still in disbelief I informed our mother of her eating habits. I grabbed both her hands and kneeled beside her bed. Grabbing her face, I looked her in the eyes. “Because I love you”, I said.

“Oh Grandpa, I love it!” the wide eyed sixteen year old exclaims. She’s been asking and asking for months and now, as she jumps out her father’s car and stares at the shiny new car in her driveway, she feverishly hugs her Grandpa like it was the first time she’d seen him in years though the two see each other every Sunday for dinner. “Because I love you”, he tells her as he kisses the top of her head.

“But I love you.. Don’t do this. Don’t leave. I thought you said you’d always love me.” He looked at me with the saddest eyes ever. The eyes I’ve seen once before; at his mother’s funeral last April. Last April, three months after I had decided to leave him. Eight months after he stopped sounding like he meant it when he said he loved me. Our relationship was toxic, and I missed who we were. Before the drugs. I used to be his best friend. But I wouldn’t let myself be the one to ruin him. “That’s just it”, I say walking towards the door. “I’m doing this because I love you”.

“Honey”, Aunt Pam says as she sips her tea, “you can be whatever you want to be. Who cares if you didn’t win the poetry contest. That doesn’t define who you are. Don’t get discouraged. Now, go up to your room and get some sleep. You’ve got school in the morning.” Grudgingly, I shut my laptop and headed up the stairs. “You know, I’m not a baby anymore.” “Oh I know”, she shoots back, “it’s not that I think you’re a baby, it’s because I love you”.

“I wonder what it is”, I thought to myself as I held the box to my ear and shook. “Just open it”, she says. I open the box and pull out a new camera, nearly identical to my previous I had accidentally dropped and shattered last week. “Because I love you”, she says smiling at me.

“But mom why? Why do I have to take this medicine? Why me? Why do I have to feel like this? What’s the point? What’s the point of going to school or even fucking living?” Amy asks as she falls back into her bed. I look at my daughter in absolute despair. What do you say when your daughter’s doctor tells you he thinks she’s schizophrenic? What can you say to ease her racing mind? I look at her, my daughter, the light of my life. As tears fill my eyes I muster a smile and say “Because you’re still my Amy and because I love you”.