Most of October, I lived in a nest. Except, I call it a blanket fort. My days were filled with anxiety, with reason and without, and the only thought that gave me comfort was knowing that I would soon be able to flee to my home, my comfy couch, and my blanket. And I knew that I could cover my entire body and free my mind of any burdening thoughts and just be in that blanket fort. Because I could not do much else without crying or finding a reason to yell about something or just completely shutting down.
And that Justin of mine? He let me be in that blanket fort. For a few weeks. And when I finally just became a complete ridiculous and unreasonable mess, he life-coached the shit out of me and gave me incredibly rousing come-to-jesus talks that left me without reason for needing my fort. And while I hated mostly every second of the life-coaching because, hello blanket fort is so much easier than facing any bit of reality, I loved every minute that he took to do so. Because he cared enough to pull me out of the fort and kick my ass into gear.
I don't think I would've made it out of there without him.
