I am losing Steven one day at a time. Where there was muscle, it is now slack dry skin. Where humor governed our relationship, he now hardly smiles. The minutes in his day are taken up with pain and discomfort. Only he can decide what to take for pain and when.
A while back he had asked me to be happy. He said if this was all the time we had together then I need to be happy. Now I want to turn that back at him, but hesitate in any way to nag. I take his silence, and grimness as he holds his stomach, his lack of acknowledgement if I ask a question, as my due. After all I'm not going through what he is experiencing. Nothing I'm going through even comes close to comparing. I should have to suffer too...and I am.