My mom, knowing I'm sick, is worried about me. She texted me to "check on me" 8 times today after I woke up at noon.
I'm glad I have a mom who cares about me and worries about me, there's no question about that.
I changed the layout of my blog in honor of one of the other people who worries about me and cares for me- DH. Love isn't always sex and chocolate and flower and romance. It's rubbing my back and telling me it'll be okay when I'm having my hundredth unexplained crying jag of the day. And after, telling me that he stills loves me, I'm still his favorite person, and I'm worth it all. How did I get so lucky? I'm just terrified shit-less he's going to realize one of these days that he can do way better than this fat, crazy and possible infertile girl. I'm no prize.
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