In the last year, I’ve turned into one of those obnoxious women who misses her husband while he’s at work. Even though we spend all our spare time together, my days are better when Greg and I get a quick lunch together or when I stop by his office to say “hello” to his coworkers who constantly inquire about our child. When we get to see each other in the middle of the day we act as though it’s been months since we’ve last seen each other, fawning over each other like lovers who have been separated by war. It’s gross, but also kinda nice.

I’m still kind of in awe with the love I’ve stumbled on in him, to be honest. First, there was this pregnancy that had him doting on an ever-expanding, leaky girlfriend who couldn’t stand to be embraced lest she gagged and puked for a solid hour. Then, there was the exhausted blob of a woman that lolled around the apartment in a robe, constantly freaking out about her insecurity at being a new mother. Then, there was a to-be-bride freaking out about the prospect of marriage and whether or not she was suited for such an unnatural-seeming institution when she had so many hangups she enjoyed dredging up. And finally, there was a new bride who couldn’t peel herself out of bed for two seconds and even pretend to act happy for any discernable length of time because of a mental illness she may suffer from forever. And, through all that, he’s remained patient, caring, encouraging and loving. He’s never put me down, but hasn’t enabled any destruction I tend to resort to. He’s never abandoned me but won’t allow me to wallow and hide away from the world like I so enjoy doing at my lowest points. When I show the slightest inkling of a productive idea, he is my biggest, loudest cheerleader, no matter how absurd my interest du jour may seem. Ordinarily, I’d think that a man who was so eager to show patience and gentle nurturing was a desperate, whipped pushover, but I’ve seen him choose his battles with me and stick to his personal beliefs enough to know he has a spine. His humble, patient strength is something I’ve always needed, but was too proud to admit and too terrified to ask for before I met him. It was one of the things that drew me to him, and his love is what kept me with him when things quickly became difficult. It’s nice to be reminded why I still have so much faith in us.

And, God, I’m so glad I’m finally starting to feel functional enough to fully enjoy who he is and reciprocating that love more completely, as opposed to feeling oppressed in my guilt and shame for not measuring up to him as a perfect spouse/wonderful person. Despite all the loathing I feel with having to be on medications, if it allows me to show my husband the love he deserves, I’ll stay on these drugs forever.