My plus one yesterday stepped up to the plate and made me homemade chicken soup. He sent me a text at noon and stated that he would do it if I made my way to his house.
I packed up the dog and wearing sweats, no make up and my hair pulled back into a messy bun, I went to his house where I passed out in his bed. I woke up to find him busy at work, cutting vegetables and chicken to add to homemade broth. As miserable as I felt, this simple action warmed my heart.
I lied on his couch, watching him play NHL 2012 and realized that I really am unbelievably lucky. And that all of the stuff I went through in the past led me to that moment where I found a man who took the time to attempt to make me feel better.
I'm not perfect. I'm whine-y when I am sick. I am naturally worried about the future. Things in the past eat away at me. I use sarcasm and dry humour to mask my emotions. My observations about people can be cuttingly mean.
He is not perfect.
The simple act of making me soup while I was ill made me realize that he genuinely cares about me. And that is really all I want.
To the chicken that gave up his life so that I could feel better, I thank you. And to the plus one that does his best to show me he cares, I thank you. And to the people in the past that made me doubt that I would have all of this, pushing me to prove all of you wrong, I thank you. I have something great in my life. I will continue to nurture it to keep it vital and growing.