When I was 15, I started dating a guy I went to school with. To respect his privacy, I won't share his first name.
I was happy when we started dating. It was a great distraction from all the doctors appointments I had & how stressed out I had been. We were together all the time, & our relationship started off great.
As time went on, I eventually told him about what was going on. I told him my symptoms, explained what I was going through, and just hoped he would be understanding. And he was. He accepted it and did his best to help me any way he could. Even if it meant staying home and watching TV instead of going out somewhere.
He was a great guy in the beginning. Always taking me places, buying me flowers, etc. I grew very comfortable with him. All of our friends would tell us how cute we were & how we had a great relationship. It was wonderful. I enjoyed being with him. & We cared about each other a lot.
In our eyes, our relationship was indestructible.
YOU ARE READING
The Life Of A Sick Girl
Non-FictionThe story of a girl battling multiple chronic conditions. She was 13 when her symptoms began, and didn't think much of them at first. But little did she know how much her life would actually change.
