In Sickness and in Health

Relationships are complicated. So complicated, in fact, that we go to the internet to try and figure out what something means or how to know you've found the person you're "supposed" to marry. I am as guilty of this as anyone. How soon is too soon to invite them to meet family? How soon is too soon to invite him to family gatherings? How soon is too soon to say I love you? What do you do when they're sick and you've only been dating a month?

That last one seems obvious; so obvious, in fact, that I found pretty much no answer (thanks internet!). I mean, a month in, you're seeing each other exclusively but you're not necessarily in a "serious" relationship. Right? I mean you (probably) have not said "I love you" yet. Most likely you have yet to meet his family and he has yet to meet yours (unless you're like my partner and I and live with your family because seriously, who can afford to live alone these days?) You haven't really talked about a future or what you want out of life. You're still, for all intents and purposes, in a casual relationship, I'll be it an exclusive one, but pretty casual, nonetheless. So what do you do when your partner gets sick? Really sick.

Now I'm not saying I have all of the answers or that mine is the way to go, because who knows, but in this circumstance, I did something that felt pretty serious for a relationship in its starting phase.

I won't give too much background as my partner does not want too much about his health broadcast to the internet, but I'll give a brief summary of the events.

To start, my boyfriend works 8 AM to 5 PM. Not crazy long hours, but when you add in his forty minute drive one way to and from work, he only has a few hours a day to do with as he likes, and with me living 40 minutes in the opposite direction, we really only get to see each other on his days off, which is great, but we always want to see each other more.

Twice now I've come over the night before his day off to sleep over, then we would spend the next day, his day off, together.

So he had Wednesday off and I came over Tuesday night, I bought take out and we turned on Netflix and just kind of hung out, us and the cats. We went to bed that night and then the next day we did kind of the same thing. It was really nice outside, but I have the complexion of a piece of printer paper and had forgotten my sunscreen at home so as to avoid a nasty sunburn we stayed inside all day and it was a great day. Right up until it was time for me to go home.

We decided that it was time for me to go home a little before 7 PM. He was going to drop me off at home and come back to get some sleep for work the next day. So I went upstairs to change out of the pajamas I'd been wearing all day and when I came back downstairs only a few minutes later, he was sick—so sick that I was terrified and wanted to take him to the hospital. He said no. So instead I walked him to the couch, laid him down, and made a decision. I was going to stay with him.

Not because he was my ride, because I could have gotten someone to come pick me up and bring me home. My aunt lives in the area and she wouldn't have even given it a second thought.

No, I stayed because I felt that I had to. Not that I was obligated to. I mean, we've only been seeing each other for a month; I'm not obligated to do anything. I felt like I had to because I felt like I was needed there. Even though all I did was rub his back and ask every three seconds how he was feeling, I felt like that was where I was meant to be. It felt like everything had aligned just so and that I was supposed to be there at that exact moment. Who knows what would have happened had I not been there? I don't want to think about it.

I also stayed because even though it's only been a month, and this should be something closer to casual than serious, I love him. I knew by the end of our second date. He hadn't even kissed me yet, and I knew I loved him, or at the very least, that I was going to love him. So I stayed. I stayed and helped him sip ginger ale from a cup that was far too big while we sat in his pitch black living room and I asked him over and over again, "How are you doing?" and he answered, his voice barely a whisper, "Okay," even though he was far from okay.

Eventually he started to feel better and I got him up to his room and we crawled into bed together. He put an arm around me and thanked me for staying. There was no thanks needed as far as I was concerned because there was nowhere else in the entire world that I should have been. There is no where in the world that I needed to be.

Maybe it's just who I am as a person, but there was no other option for me but to stay. He needed me and I didn't hesitate. Even with him telling me I could go home, that I should go home, I stayed because that's what felt right for me.

Was it too soon to play caretaker like this? Maybe. Would I have done the same thing if the circumstances had been different? I don't know. Would he have done the same thing had the roles been reversed? I'd like to think so, but I don't know for sure. That doesn't change that I feel that I did the right thing.

So to answer my own question, what do you do when your partner is sick and you've only been dating a month? Make a judgment call. It's up to you to decide. It's your relationship and no one knows your relationship better than you. No one knows you better than you. So it's up to you to decide. Do you play caretaker or do you send them a get well text and call them in the morning? It's your decision to make. And while we all wish that there was just a universal answer for everyone, there isn't. Not for this question, not for any question in regards to love. It's all up to you.