Marvin picked me up from the airport on Wednesday evening. I'd just landed from Mexico after a nice vacation with my mom. I was excited to see him for the first time in almost a week.

Traffic was pretty nasty on the way back home and I hadn't eaten since breakfast. We stopped at Olive Garden for dinner. I had two breadsticks, water, a bowl of soup, and the fish and vegetables off my plate (the pasta didn't taste right to me). I did insulin once we got home.

We chatted for awhile. I unpacked some of my bag. It was great to be back in each other's company. But after awhile, I wasn't myself. I didn't feel quite right and we both were noticing symptoms. I seemed low, but I was dying of thirst and I'd just had dinner.

My words weren't coming out right. I couldn't put my thoughts together in any logical form. I was making strange comments. I was so thirsty and my stomach was feeling off.

I tested in at over 360. Marvin and I were both surprised. I had no idea why I was so high. My meal wasn't that carb heavy and I'd done insulin. I did three units of Humalog and laid down.

Not long after, I was in pretty bad shape. My stomach hurt beyond all belief. I itched like crazy. I was so thirsty despite a bottle of water. I felt horrible. And Marvin was getting the worst end of it with short comments, irritated statements, and general rudeness.

He'd mentioned leaving early which had upset me since I hadn't seen him in so long. The irritation mixed with the high made it a blitz attack on him. I kept insisting that he go home. He wasn't budging, which further irritated me. If he was leaving, I just wanted him to leave already.

He insisted that he'd stay since I wasn't feeling well. He'd go home when I was feeling better. I knew that I wasn't going to feel much better anytime soon. The insulin didn't seem to be working at all. He wanted to stay to take care of me in case things got worse. I was so irritated that I just wanted to be alone.

I hated the fact that he felt compelled to stay and take care of me. I hated that I was being so rude without being able to voice my emotions rationally thanks to the fog in my head. I hated that he was concerned, upset, and hurt by the turn of events.

I love Marvin for how much he cares about and for me. He's the sweetest guy that I know. When I'm feeling bad, he's the one that I want around. I couldn't ask for anyone better to take care of me.

But there is still a big part of me that absolutely hates this part of our relationship. I hate that we've had multiple occasions where I've felt bad and he's taken care of me. We've seen good days and bad days when it comes to my health. And I hate this.

I hate that when I feel bad, especially when I'm high or nauseous, Marvin gets the worst of my emotions. He's seen some pretty nasty sides of me. I hate that I hurt him when it comes down to that. I hate that his life is changed because of my health. I hate when it puts dates on hold, when he feels guilty leaving me alone when I'm sick, when it messes with the dynamic of our relationship.

I know that this is something that any relationship in my life is going to encounter. I don't want to be with a partner who isn't involved in my health or who doesn't take care of me. I want someone who is understanding, forgiving, and caring. I need someone who gets how this is and sticks by me no matter what.

But none of that changes the fact that I don't want my partner to be hurt by the pain that I feel. It doesn't mean that it's okay when my health gets in the way. It doesn't mean that I don't feel guilty for how my health changes my relationship. It definitely doesn't mean that I love them any less.