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An open letter to my roommates
Geena and Kelly--
I love you. I don't say it often enough or show it often enough (though you can probably protest the showing bit) but I truly do. Nobody else in this world would have sat in hospital chairs for hours on end when they were already in pain, help me take baths, bring me David Sedaris books to read when I was freaking out and needed an escape or spent their own money buying my medications so I didn't die.
Nobody else would have cared enough to notice how sick I was, to make me go to the doctor, to clean my room with no complaints even though it's an absolute sty--and not make me feel guilty about being taken care of.
Nobody else would be so concerned about my health and for that, I thank the both of you. I love you both so much. Nobody does it better.
--Me
I love you. I don't say it often enough or show it often enough (though you can probably protest the showing bit) but I truly do. Nobody else in this world would have sat in hospital chairs for hours on end when they were already in pain, help me take baths, bring me David Sedaris books to read when I was freaking out and needed an escape or spent their own money buying my medications so I didn't die.
Nobody else would have cared enough to notice how sick I was, to make me go to the doctor, to clean my room with no complaints even though it's an absolute sty--and not make me feel guilty about being taken care of.
Nobody else would be so concerned about my health and for that, I thank the both of you. I love you both so much. Nobody does it better.
--Me
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We love you. Of course we're doing it.
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