You knew what Mike struggled with before you got into a relationship with him. You’d think even after knowing, staying with him was enough reassurance for him.

But it wasn’t. His perception of reality was warped and corrupt, he couldn’t accept the truth even if it was spelt out for him.

But that was just one of the downsides to his depression. Along with the dissociation and negative thoughts, it was hard for him to physically take care of himself. Which is why you stuck around, you promised to help him when he couldn’t help himself.

In sickness and in health.

“Open wide for me, love,” your hand gently gripped his jaw as he sat on the toilet lid. With your other hand, you brought his toothbrush down to his teeth, dragging the bristles carefully.

Mike watched you attentively, his gaze never faltering from your eyes. So much love and confusion. Confusion and doubt that you could care so deeply for him.

His hands moved their way up to your waist. His thumbs rubbed against the fabric of your clothes. He needed to feel you, to know you were real.