Going The Distance from Diabetes Wise: Blogging about real life with diabetes

For the last year, every other Friday, or perhaps every third Friday, I've rushed from work to Euston station to board the overcrowded Virgin Trains service to Liverpool, approximately 200 miles north west of London. And each corresponding Sunday, I've done the journey in reverse. In short, I've been a weekend commuter.

I hate the journey. The rush to make it to the station on time, the fight to secure a seat, the terrible food and lack of WiFi, the delays and the overpricing.

I do it because I'm in love with the man who meets me at Liverpool Lime Street Station.

It was a year ago today that we took our first, tentative steps on this journey. It's been a winding road of discovery, with highs and lows along the way. But when I look back, I can hardly remember where I started out from .

Rob, I love you.

Facing life, diabetes and other challenges, with you is infinitely easier than facing them without. With you, the world seems brighter in colour and richer in texture. You make me feel beautiful, special and adored. Until I found you, I never knew what was missing from my life. Now, I can't imagine being without you.

But I am. Every weekday. And although the distance, and saying goodbye every Sunday night, threaten to break my heart, you also make me strong enough to handle it until we're both in a position to make a change.

There so many moments from the last twelve months that stand out. The fun times: The week we spent in San Francisco. The restaurant meals. You squeezing me tight when I was afraid at the cinema. Indulging my passion for giraffes and taking me to see them twice. The things your friends said you'd said about me. The not so good times that you somehow made good: One of the first nights we ever spent together, you got up in the middle of the night to find me sugar. The time you sprinted down the road to find cranberry juice for me. The time you held my hair back as I was throwing up.

I remember the time I couldn't bear to say goodbye, so I got on a train and came all the way back to Liverpool with you, because I didn't have to work the following day.

I remember the moment you told me that you loved me.

I remember realising that I already knew, because you'd already shown me.

Thank you, Rob, for being there for me, even when we're far apart. Even when I'm in a bad mood, stressed out or exhausted. Thank you for understanding. Thank you for going the distance with me and making this work.

Thank you too, for the twelve red roses you sent me today at work. Even though they arrived in front of a waiting room full of patients, I cried. They stood in my surgery all afternoon and I was proud to tell every patient, when they asked, that they were a gift from my boyfriend.

Because he loves me.

I love you too.