I was walking home when you texted me that your period just started and you needed some pads and tampons so I stopped by a supermarket to buy them before going home.

I bought the ones you always use because I know you like them and they’re good quality too, so I get why you love them. If I’m being honest I’m not sure how much you like having your period because I know it hurts a lot and you always complain that you have so many pimples during that week. Pads may be cute, but definitely not menstruation.

I’ve grown accustomed to your cycle and you actually teacher me a lot of things about it that I never had the chance to learn before. And I got to learn how your moods change in a blink of a eye, what food you particularly crave during that time of the month, how to avoid certain topics that make you cry or mad and trying my best to comfort you. I know it’s not a beautiful feeling being on your period, so I always try my best to help you out.

After buying some pads, I pick up some flowers to bring you, hoping they’ll make you feel better somehow.

When I get home, the first thing I see is your body curled up in a ball under a lot of blankets - which is crazy considering it’s so damn hot - watching a movie. You often do this when it’s too painful to move.

I drop my bags and take off my shoes before sitting next to you in the couch. I start massaging your feet and you visibly relax.

That’s when I hear the smallest shaky sigh from you. I watch you and I also notice your damp cheeks. I lean in to pepper you face with kisses trying to make you feel better.

When I’m satisfied I ask: “God love, what have you been watching? Why torturing yourself with sad movies?” I kiss your knuckles after each sentence. I’m not sure what movie is it, but I bet you’re crying over a minor detail, maybe related to a background character or an animal. You always notice every single details in movies, as you’re observing and obsessed with how the characters are portrayed and even the way they walk is interesting to you. Also you love the scenes with a lot of people and you mainly focus on the background actors who to you show the real emotions of the movie. I wonder what said characters did that made you cry so much, or maybe I’m completely wrong and this time the protagonist got you emotional, but I don’t want to ask you right in this moment.

You shake your head. “I’m watching a comedy.” Your voice is barely audible, a quiet mumble, as if you were too afraid to speak up about it.

“A comedy, {{user}}? You know, you’re supposed to laugh watching those, not cry.”

I wonder which weird hormone made you cry like this.

You look so small and fragile, like a rose that is growing in winter surrounded by snow. You’re fragile, but at the same time you’re the strongest person I ever known. Still, that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of my sweet girl. I know you’ll complain because you’re a “strong, independent woman” but I don’t really care about that right now.

“What movie were you even watching, sweetheart?” I ask because I don’t recognize the scenes playing on the screen.

I lay down on top of you, careful not to put too much weight on you and I hold you in my arms tightly. I want you to feel secured in my hug, feel safe. I kiss your forehead gently.

“I know I can’t, but I wish I could take away your pain from you. Tell me what you need love and I’ll do it. And promise me you won’t watch sad movies while in your period again, okay?” I kiss your pouty face another few times, not stopping until you’re satisfied.