Had and recovered from food poisoning on Boxing Day. Savage. Was so weak that I couldn’t even use the phone as I lay on the bed. Could only stare at the ceiling and wonder when this sickness would end.
As the “poison” exited me (I’m trying to be less graphic), I was very grateful that the spouse wasn’t mortified by whatever was coming out. He rushed from the other room, stood nearby and patted me. I’ve had stomach flu before and that was much worse. He had to help to clean me up.
That’s when I recalled a single friend asking me, “when do you know that he’s The One?” I think I muttered vaguely about, “there’s no The One, it’s a journey with a lot of work.” My current answer would be, “when he doesn’t flinch seeing you at your absolute worst or sickest, and still stands there to help and support you.”
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚