Sick thoughts, in the pure sense.

Now, I know this might be lame, but I figure: my blog, my rules. And I had a surprisingly good weekend, so I want to talk about it.

I had an amazing time the past week at home just hanging out with my family and catching up, sleeping, patting my dog...it was stellar. I love home. Unfortunately, I find that when I slow down, that's often when I end up being sick. It's like the sickness catches up to me once I stop running around, and then takes over my body. I was highly disappointed with this--not only because it sucks to be sick--but because it completely wrecked a bunch of my plans, and severely cramped my style. I was looking forward to coming back to Ottawa slightly early--somewhat to try to pick up shifts and to catch up on homework...difficult to do at home...but also because I was going to hang out with Manuel for a bunch on Saturday. He had this whole plan, and I was maaajor excited.
Unfortunately, my sickness (and the homework levels on both our parts) made this plan a no-go. I sounded like Gollum upon returning to O-town and (totally honestly) didn't look much different from the critter. To be totally honest, I was really nervous for him to see me like that. As in, total mess. Coughing uncontrollably, hard enough to make myself sick and to make my eyes water, on-and-off fever, swollen nose and lips...I wore horrible clothing, had nasty hair...not my best. Besides that, I always feel very vulnerable when I'm sick so I was terrified that he would be totally repulsed and I would be embarrassed and it would just be a bad scene all around.
And nothing of the sort happened.
Even though sickness makes me sappy, I just wanted to share this stuff, cause it made my heart smile. He'd probably be embarrassed if he ever read this....but too bad :P. The guy took care of me, the whole time I was sick. Well, most of it anyway. He got me water, NeoCitran tea (amazing stuff, by the way), and was essentially...incredibly caring. He made me laugh, so hard (not so good for my cough...but good for the soul haha) and still called me pretty, even though I kind of looked like a crazy homeless person. And all of this meant a lot to me, because I realized that I was so afraid for him to see me like that...at my worst, and he didn't run away from it at all. He could handle all the grossities of my leaky nose and could laugh with me at my crazy hair and still kissed my chapped lips and, for the first time, I actually really understood that he liked me, as a person, and that I didn't have to be perfect all the time for him to hang around. And maybe this is a weird, TMI post for y'all...but you know what? It meant more to me than almost anything. And that's just what I felt like talking about today.

Peace.