It's been four days and five freaking hours since I found myself in the light of day rather then the burning pit that was my whole life for ten whole years.
(I'm the lucky one that wasn't there for forty-years and I had the one and only Dean Winchester to come home to)
But only one of them for the past four days puts his hand on mine and asks 'are you okay?' and each and every time all I say 'I would be if you weren't touching me, Sammy.'
But sometimes he needs a little shock to remind him the next day.
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"Are you okay-ouch! Dean, your girlfriend shocked me! (ten years old much?)"
"You go girl."
The moment he stops (which is the very second I send a long shock to the back of his neck) I finally realize that from the beginning of this all (maybe even my whole freaking life) that in no shape or form am I okay.
Now isn't that just filled to the brim with cheer?
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"Dean. (do what you do best, love me, protect me, save me)"
With one look, one simple damn look, he told me everything I needed to know (which would have taken Sammy hours and hours of 'are you okay's?') that he was in every single way with me.
"It's never going to be okay, is it?"
"Nope, not today and not in a million years but at least you have me here to be 'not okay' with."
I may not be okay with all the other parts of my life (starting with the thing you call my soul, which all but he says is a black hole, and the need to save it from another trip down stairs) and mean every part of it but at lest I have one thing, one person I'm okay with.
And right in this moment that's enough.
"I think I'm okay with that, Dean Winchester, very okay."