This past weekend was extremely hectic for me. First, to start off with, some background:

I have juvenile rheumatoid arthritis. I was diagnosed at the age two months, I think? Maybe someday on here I'll share about it in greater detail. But having it at a young age, according to doctors, has worn down my immune system. I have a pretty terrible immune system. I get sick fairly easily. I also have some other problems. My second main one that is pretty severe compared to my other conditions are my chronic migraines.

This last weekend, both my immune system and my migraines decided to turn against me.

I made a bunch of food earlier in the week. So our fridge was stocked with leftovers. On Saturday, it was leftover day for dinner. All of the leftovers smelled fine, looked fine...tasted fine. But I apparently ate something bad. Before eating, I had a migraine coming on. They always start off as headaches. Since it was still a headache I figured if I ate I could get rid of it early, especially since I was planning to sleep early that day due to plans on Sunday with my mom. I went to bed around ten feeling a little off, slept for four hours, and woke up with one of the worst migraines I have ever had in my life, hands down. The only thing worse was the migraines I used to have before I was ever diagnosed and medicated for them—and this was back in 2003.

I think the migraine made it worse, but I was extremely nauseous. With each passing minute, I felt worse and worse. My boyfriend Jeremy was just going to sleep at that time. Finally, after taking my migraine medicine hoping the nauseous feeling would pass if I could just fall back asleep through the migraine, my stomach decided to get rid of its contents. I was sick for 3-4 hours, and it included vomiting and crying—and some screaming due to the migraine pain, there was so much pressure on my head—but Jeremy was there. Jeremy was worried, because I've never had a migraine this bad before, but he was there for me. He helped me. He practically carried me from the bed to the bathroom and he waited outside the door while I got sick. He made me ice packs and he made the couch into a bed for me. He stayed next to me, and then when I was feeling well enough to go back to sleep in the bedroom he practically carried me back to bed. He texted my mom so she knew I was sick and had to cancel my plans. The next day, he bought me Gatorade to ensure my stomach was settled.

A person is a person. A person is a human being. I think a lot of people set extremely high expectations of their significant other. Jeremy has already been through a lot with me. He witnesses every day my anxiety and stress. He knows about my depression. He deals with my arthritis despite me not being elderly, as expected of those with arthritis. He's always there to somehow calm me and reassure me that things are going to be alright. I don't really understand it sometimes. I love him with all my heart, and I know he loves me, but sometimes I feel like he shouldn't love me. I'm not perfect. In fact, I am broken in many ways.

I fully believe that many people these days go into relationships with "broken" people with the intentions to "fix" them. That's not possible—that's not something you can do. A broken person needs to fix themselves. They can have help and support, but they need to learn to repair their own self. But there is truly something amazing about a person still loving another when they are truly at their lowest. Whether it be because of depression or just because they are sick and vomiting. There is a sort of beauty seeing someone at their lowest and still looking at them and thinking, "Wow, I really love them."

Despite how terrible my weekend was and despite feeling sorry for keeping Jeremy up, and despite feeling embarrassed over being sick—Jeremy kept telling me it was okay, petting my head reassuringly, and was using the sweetest voice possible. He's not an extremely sentimental person. He's the quiet and stoic type. But moments like that make me love him all the more.

I think it's important in relationships, after being with Jeremy for a year and living with him for a year—and living with him so early on in our relationship, at that—to accept that the one you love won't always be perfect. They will appear perfect in your eyes. But you cannot always hold them on a pedestal.

Perfect to you or not, they are a human being. Humans are not perfect. They make mistakes. They have bad days. I honestly think it's important to realize this in a relationship.