Allison is extremely fond of telling people how I saved her life eight years ago when she came down with sepsis. All I did was tell her I thought it was time to go to the emergency room, and she agreed. Granted, she probably would have died if she didn’t go. She spent five days in intensive care in and out of consciousness, but I credit the doctors and nurses. They were wonderful.
Meanwhile, I had my own disease. I had depression, and it had been ravaging my mind and body for at least 25 years. By the time I met Allison, I had become so numb to my emotions that I didn’t think I had them anymore. The only emotion that poked through was anger.
Allison didn’t just suggest I go to the doctor. She pushed and pulled and argued and insisted. And then it wasn’t the right doctor or the right therapist on the first shot, so Allison kept at it. It took years to get it right, but she kept pushing me and kept loving me and kept supporting me until I finally found my emotional balance.
So when I say that Allison is the source of all my happiness, that’s what I’m talking about. I can feel happiness now. I can make myself happy. I can find joy and beauty in the world around me. And none of that would be true without her.
So as I sat on the trolley, a ring tucked away out of sight, waiting for the right moment to ask the question, I was thinking about all the wonderful emotions I was feeling and how grateful I was to her for helping me find them. I get to spend the rest of my life with her, and she has already made the rest of my life better.