I feel Lydia shuffle next to me in bed. I hear her pick up her bag and a bottle rattling.

"Everything okay?" I ask her without opening my eyes. I don't want the morning sun to pierce through them. I hear her hum as yes, and I turn to put my head on my pillow to go back to sleep.

I wake up again to hear her throwing up. My eyes jolt open and I quickly rush towards her. I kneel down next to her to pull her hair from her face and rub her back.

Is she pregnant? No, she's on the pill. Well, sometimes the pill doesn't work. No, Matthew, Lydia is not pregnant. She would make a wonderful mother. No, now is not the time to plan a family.

"Go away, I don't want you seeing me like this." She sniffles before her body heaves again. Lydia's weak hand moves to push me away, but I stay firmly in my spot. She needs me more then ever right now, so I'm staying. What kind of guy would I be if I just went back to bed anyway?

"I'm not going anywhere. What's going on?" I ask as I rub her head.

"Migraine." She mumbles out. She leans back from the toilet and I can see the tear streaks staining her face. Blood capillaries are broken all over her face, and she can barely keep her eyes open. I reach over and grab some toilet paper to wipe her face and mouth. I've never seen her so worn down before.

"I'm sorry." She whispers and moves a piece of hair from her face.

I furry my eyebrows at her apology. Sometimes the way she reacts to things confuses me. I wonder who made her feel like she had to apologize or make up for things that aren't her fault.

"Don't apologize to me. Is there anything you need?" I ask. I watch as she nods her head.

"I threw up the Ibuprofen I took. Can you bring me some? It's in my bag." It's almost like she's using all her strength to even talk. My heart breaks for her, and I wish there were more that I could do. I hurriedly go to her bag and I fish out the bottle. Before I bring it to her I close the curtains, so the brightness doesn't increase the pain.

I hand her the medicine and I fill up a cup of water from the sink. I watch as she takes it and leans her head back against the wall. Lydia's eyes close and she lets out another sniffle.

"Do you get these a lot?" I ask and she nods her head before opening her eyes.

"At least once a month...hey, do you have any mouthwash? The taste of bile isn't really appetizing." She weakly laughs. I love how even when she's like this she can't help but crack a joke.

I grab the mouthwash from under the sink and hand it to her. Lydia tries to get up, but she collapses. I hear her curse to herself before I wrap my arm around her waist to help her up. Lydia leans against the sink as she swishes the green liquid and spits it out.

"Can you help me back to the bed? I need to sleep this off."

I quickly do as she asks and she slings her arms around my shoulders. I lay her down and place the blanket on top of her. I see her wince, and I feel my heart break even more. I lay next to her and rub her head in an attempt to help her. I also pull my phone out and look up ways to help migraines.

-

I'm awoken by the sound of Lydia puking again, and I go to her like the last time. I don't even remember falling asleep. I try to comfort her while she heaves and I hear her crying.

"God, it feels like someone's sticking a needle in my eye." She cries and I try to calm her down.

Once Lydia is finished I help her up to get some more mouthwash and I walk her back to our bed. I wrap my arms around her and she places her head on my chest. I hear her sniffle a couple more times until her breathing begins to even out again. I run my fingers through her hair until I'm certain she's asleep.

Sadly, there isn't much you can do for migraines except take pain medicine and sleep it off. Doctors don't even know what causes migraines or the science behind it which doesn't help our situation in the slightest. I just want to take her pain away. I hate seeing her like this. I feel so useless since there isn't anything I can do. I don't even understand how she can go through this every month.

-

I quickly sit up when I see Lydia wake up. She's been asleep for three hours without waking up to puke, and I was hoping she might've been getting better.

"Are you okay? What do you need? Do you need help to the bathroom?" I bombard her with questions and she only yawns in a response.

"Actually, I feel a little better. I just have a baby headache and I feel...I don't know, weak? I guess." She looks at me with furrowed brows and I take her face in my hands.

"Are you sure? I don't mind. Anything you nee-"

Lydia cuts me off with a laugh, "Matthew, I'm fine. I feel like I could run a mile compared to how I felt a couple hours ago. I'm sorry for puking so much, by the way."

"Why do you say sorry all the time?" I ask and she looks shocked. It's been a question I've been wanting to ask since the first day we met. I noticed quickly that she feels to need to apologize for everything.

"Um...I don't know. It's just a learned behavior, I think." She shrugs it off, but it's not enough for me. I need her to know that she doesn't need to apologize to me for stuff she doesn't have to.

"Lydia, you don't have to apologize for not feeling well. You're human, humans get sick." I tell her and she stays quiet. I see her think to herself trying to find something to say.

"I'm just...I'm just not used to being with someone as understanding as you are." She meets my eyes and it's almost like I can see all the past pain she's had to go through.

Lydia's never mentioned her past relationships to me at all, and whenever it is brought up she quickly changes the subject. I caught on quickly that it's a subject that she's uncomfortable talking about so I don't push, but it saddens me to think that she feels the need to be that way with me. I'm beginning to realize that she doesn't mention her past at all.

"You don't have to apologize to me, Lydia. Unless you, like, murder me or something and even then I would understand." I joke and she lets out a laugh. I love her laugh. It's so hearty and genuine.

"Thank you." She smiles before she presses a kiss to my forehead.

"Also, how come you never really talk to me about your past, like, at all?"

I watch her shrug it off, "It's not really important."

I furrow my eyebrows at her. Why doesn't she think it's important?

"Lydia, anything about you is important to me. I don't care what it's about I want to hear about it. I adore you, and I want to know everything about you." I pull her closer towards me and she rests her head on shoulder.

I listen to her open up to me. Telling me everything about her. Lydia talks about her parents to me, and tells me how amazing they are. She tells me about her first kiss, and how embarrassing it was. Except, I find it cute and endearing. I could listen to her all night. I can't believe she doesn't find this stuff as important as it is to me.

I wish she understood how important she is to me.