Recently, I was out sick. And not the kind of sick where you’re just sort of gross but functional, but the kind of sick where all you can do is lie on the couch, doubled over, whimpering in pain every once in a while just to let those around you know you’re still there. While I was far from death’s door, it was the sickest I had been in a while.

Lucky for me, my boyfriend happened to have a schedule where he could be around to make me soup, pretend that I wasn’t totally disgusting when dry heaving in the other room, and at one point, sternly force me to go to the doctor when I couldn’t bring myself to stand upright. With every bottle of water he brought me or offer he made to pick up my medication from the pharmacy, I found myself thanking him, sometimes several times in a row.

“You don’t have to do that,” he would say.

But having been single for years and living on my own before meeting my boyfriend, I knew how having someone to take care of you, especially at your weakest, was really more of a privilege than the norm.

Just two years ago, I remember a few instances of feeling quite sick, especially as I was prone to migraines. During these times, my Upper West Side studio became a cave of disgusting as I would keep the curtains drawn and lights off. Even the light from my computer would hurt my eyes, so I would often play Netflix on low in the background with the screen halfway shut, blinking away episodes of How I Met Your Mother as I drifted in and out of consciousness. Even in the smallness of my apartment, getting to the kitchen was often a chore. If I didn’t have things in cans readily available, Seamless was my go-to source of sustenance, and I would try to tip well to make up for my blanket-wrapped, un-enthused greeting when the delivery guy came to the door.

The post Reflections on having the flu when you’re single appeared first on HelloGiggles.