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Today, while walking past the hospital towards school, I crossed paths with two parents and their adolescent son. We didn't exchange words, or really even glances. The only remarkable thing about them was that their son, probably 16 or 17, was in a wheelchair with what looked like severe muscular dystrophy
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No love is unconditional. Even if you could find one that fit the profile, I don't think you'd want it; you want to be loved for what you are.
You already know this, Scotty. When you look at someone you love, you don't experience your feelings constantly, or inexplicably, but at traits that remind you of her identity: the slightly raised eyebrow when she knows she's won an argument, they way her voice cracks when she laughs, the fact that she drinks soda from a can with a straw. That's love under the condition of a specific person. That's what you want.
I don't think much is hard about being happy, but it certainly is complicated.
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I think it looks like misery to outsiders because you or I can't picture ourselves doing the same thing. Circumstances, however, change that.
I know, sitting here, right now, if I found out I was pregnant today and that my unborn child had CF or Down's or some other similarly disabling disease, I would be crushed. Crushed. And, while I have strong feelings against abortion, I don't know how I'd respond. Adoption? Abortion? Institutionalization? It feels terrible to say it, but I don't want to raise a broken child. Being put in that situation would likely change my feelings. It's hard to know how you'll respond before you're tested.
Unconditional love doesn't mean not having doubts about the love you feel. You know those parents have had moments they would call "weak," where they considered what was best for their lives and considered other options, but they didn't go for them.
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And you're human. Two strikes against you, my friend.
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