Out on a Limb

by Hannah Bonam-Young

It’s about learning to let someone see the messy, needier parts of you. It’s learning to be loved well as you are and accept help. It’s about challenging expectations and overcoming obstacles. It’s disabled joy. Which we all need to see more of, if you ask me.

“Maddening…” He laughs slowly, rolling his neck. “You are maddening.”

I needed Bo. Someone who, from the moment I stuck out my hand, has understood me at a fundamental level that many people cannot. Someone kind, compassionate, hard-working, who believes in me.

“I’m starving,” I whisper, tilting my head toward the restaurant. “Yeah, me too,” Bo says, his stoic eyes held on me.

Years and years spent still getting to know each other, unlearning and relearning each other as the decades go by. Uncovering the intricate layers and deepest spots until every darkened corner is found. The mess and the chaos and the beauty of a life well lived—a life shared.

“I love you,” I say, squeezing his fingers again. “I’m fully, madly, deeply, and unquestionably in love with you.”