I’m not in the correct mindset right now to articulate how wonderful the past year has been, or how much I love him and love being married to him. That will come later. Perhaps privately.
What I will say is this:
He’s on Day 3 of nursing me through some bullshit virus that has me expelling horror movie quantities of mucus from my sinuses and my chest.
He made surprise dinner reservations that we had to reschedule because I couldn’t bear going out for a beautiful meal with no sense of smell and a hacking cough.
He’s ordered Mexican food for dinner so that I don’t have to do anything except sit upright on the couch and eat.
He cuddles the living shit out of me and is letting me sleep as much as I need all day. I feel like I’m getting better faster because he’s so good at this.
Anyway, I like to think – maybe the point of this is – I’m the same for him when he’s unwell, and I think that means something.
I like to think that he loves me as fiercely as I love him, but I’m not sure that’s possible. I don’t know if this is an appropriate thing to post for our first anniversary, but to hell with it. I’m in love, I feel like death, and I’ve got no idea how to describe my love for him in words. So it is.
I love you more every day, Jesse.