Right now it is 6:00 AM in the morning, and I am sick. Iāve been feeling awful for several days, but the misery doesnāt truly settle in until I lay down for the night to sleep. Last night a series of circumstances came about that ended in me being essentially stuck at my boyfriendās house (as if that is really a problem!) Anyways, so here I am, sniffly and congested, my nose a fountain of snot and mucus, my lungs heavy with phlegm, and an evil itch in the back of my throat thatās had me endlessly coughing my germs everywhere. I feel terrible, of course.
So here we are, incredibly exhausted from a decidedly busy Sunday of Smith family activities. Curled up in his cozy bed, legs tangled, his gentle breathing entices me towards unconsciousness. Then it hits. This unbearable urge to cough crawls slowly up the back of my throat until I cannot voluntarily resist coughing. The relief after giving in and coughing lasts no more than 20 seconds before Iām choking back another fit. Now, that was after 2:00 in the morning, and being the emotional female I am, drained and in desperate need of rest, I devolved into a puddle of tears. Crying my frustrations about my inability to sleep, along with my guilt knowing poor Casey wasnāt getting a minute of shuteye while I was hacking up my lungs.
Ladies and gentleman, I come to the point of this story. My incredibly kind partner does not confuse the sniffles of a sick Christina with the sniffles of a crying Christina. He reaches across and without a word, bundles me into his arms and gives what I would award the worldās greatest and most comforting hug. Tears are spilling from my eyes with abandon, and I let them fall freely ad I sit in silent misery, wallowing in my discomfort.
Casey offers to make some hot tea for me, and I manage to nod a pathetic āyesā as my eyes continue leaking. At this point the coughing has become incessant. He gets out of the extremely warm and cozy refuge of bed, and goes downstairs. Several minutes pass before he comes back to the room. He hands me a mug full of tea, sweetened with milk, and a squeeze container of honey. He makes sure I take a couple spoonfuls of honey, and then I suck down the hot tea with desperation.
Finally, my coughing fit is soothed and I am able to drift off into sweep sleep. Folks, this is love. A guy who, despite his own exhaustion, will leave the comfort of a warm bed to calm his equally emotional and miserable girlfriend. Maybe it seems minor to some, but to me in that moment, there was nothing in the world more valuable to me than that cup of tea.
