Comfort #fivemintuefriday

Write. For five minutes straight. One-word prompt, five minutes, no editing. I'm linking up over at Lisa-Jo Baker (aka The Gypsy Mama) where we read, write and encourage.

This is a word I don't say very often. Instead it's one that I act out, that I hug with, that I hold hands with, that sleeps twisted in those white sheets with me every night. My husband fights depression and anxiety and panic attacks and I love love LOVE him for it. The fact that he fights it, not the fact that he struggles with it.

I've seen him laid low, heart-broken and suffering, bearing his struggles and the struggles of those around him. And here I thought I was a people-pleaser. The truth of the matter is, Mr. E fights against the feelings of inadequacy, the not-good-enoughs and the self-doubts. He finds happiness in serving others but when people are fickle or ungrateful it used to send him into a tail-spin. 

But all Mr. E needed was comfort. Someone to hold him. Someone to listen to his fears and his worries. Someone to face the world, hands held, head high and tell them, "I do not have to make you happy. I choose to make you happy and that choice makes all the difference."

I comfort him, but really, he gives it back tenfold.

A little throwback Thursday...You can tell because Mr. E has hair.