I often hear conversations where women seem to be vying for the title of 'my man is the worst'. One recounts a tale of woe, involving a failed attempt at DIY perhaps; the next challenges this with a forgotten birthday story; both of which are then trumped by an unfortunately timed orgasm "and I was left behind" (overheard in the toilets in Debenhams last week). I'm not sure why an individual would so enthusiastically criticise the person they have decided to spend time with - after all, doesn't this actually say more about them than their partner?
I am very much in love with Mr Manley. I know, I know, I can hear the heckles from here, as well as picturing you all miming vomiting. But it's the truth. Which is not to say there have been no failed attempts at DIY, forgotten occasions or *ahem* that I have never been 'left behind'. But these fade into the background during every day life, day to day being together. But still, I sometimes get reminded all over again when he does the one thing that helps. I struggle with depression, and have done for - well, for as long as I can remember. And on days that I can't see any light at the end of that tunnel, he will sit with me, or hold my hand, or talk to me, or put a favourite film on. He knows that he can't 'fix it', and he doesn't try - he can be with me and I can be sad without feeling like I have to pretend, or smile, or speak even if I don't want to. And knowing that I have his support - that he can see me at my worst and still want to hold me close - that is hugely important to me.
So thank you, Mr Manley, for your support. You may not even realize it, but you strengthen me every single day.