Alive....

.....barely.

I feel half-dead. I'm getting better. I can tell. But my energy level, on a scale of 1 to 10, is negative 100. Just thinking about pulling on a bra and t-shirt to go pick up my paycheck wears me out. My right lung hurts. The center of my chest hurts when I cough. Getting run over by a mac truck has nothing on the way I feel right now. Have you seen Final Destination? The one where the girl gets obliterated by the bus? That's probably closer to how I feel.

I'm sorry for the pity party here. I'm just venting. Bored. Tired. Icky. And I needed to get that out.

Cat's Out of the Bag

So, yesterday was good. We worked the afternoon together. He text me Happy Valentine's Day. It was all so sweet. Before I left his place in the morning, I set up two candles, a monkey, a bear and a purple leather rose. He got home and told me I was a stinker.

Dinner was on me. I went over and cooked a meal fit for a king for him. But his sugars got too low and then it got scary. As I did the best I could to stay out of his way and move everything breakable to a safe location, I sat there on the verge of tears. I couldn't do anything to help him. And it sucked.

And I realized something. I realized that despite the fact that he has a chronic illness. Despite the fact that he could go into a coma or die at any moment. Despite the fact that I don't know that we'll have tomorrow together. I am certainly falling in love with this man. And I cried when I realized that.

And I cried some more when he told me that the feeling is mutual.

I don't know what happens now. He was very upset that I had to witness that last night. And couldn't understand why I was still there when it was over. I was still there because I couldn't leave. At least not without knowing that he was OK. And then, when it was over, I started to pack up and tried to leave. I really did. But for some reason, I had the feeling that if I had walked out that door that night, I would never walk back in. And I want to get out of the habit of running away. Because I have a feeling that we've both done a lot of that in our lives.

I may not understand what happened to him last night, or what it feels like. But, he started on something about being sick all the time. I stopped him right in his tracks. I firmly told him not to go there because that I DO understand. I know what it's like to be sick all the time. To be so close to death that you can practically taste it. To wonder if you'll wake up in the morning. I know all that. So, while I don't know what it feels like to have my blood sugar drop so low to almost kill me, I do know what it's like to be sick.

I don't know what happens from here. I'm so emotionally drained today. I'm tired, but not tired. I have this nervous energy pulsing through my veins that I'm not quite sure what to do. I want to wrap my arms around him and tell him that I'm not going anywhere. I know that what happened is a really awful aspect of the disease. I just want to hold him and make it all go away. For both of us.