his story.

he has never complained. he doesn't make me feel bad about needing him home or about running errands or about driving me to endless appointments.

http://soundcloud.com/tlipps/ro-bot-any



"When my ends all come undone
I don't fall apart-I don't fall apart"


I cry when I hear him playing those first chords in the other room.


There are many more beautiful lyrics he wrote but this one strikes me the most when I think about everything that has happened and what it must be like to have his perspective. He doesn't seek pity. he isn't trying to get some spotlight. No-he's hurting in silence too. But he hides it well. he has to be strong because i need him to be strong. If I mention this to him, he thinks I'm silly to compare what I have gone through to what he has gone through on the other side.


I had heard recently that during one of my first seizures 2 years ago I was on my bed, unable to move, with my eyes open, completely frozen. Tim later told me that he checked my pulse. When he told me it's ridiculous to think his experience is nearly as debilitating as mine, I told him that I had never for a second had to figure out if he was dead.


I would not choose a side. I COULD not choose a side. All I know is: I don't think I could be the person he is.