The impossible just happened.
If you've read any of my other posts, my husband is an INTJ and I'm an INFP, and for years I have lamented my husband's seeming inability to comfort me and soothe me, particularly with words. A little-known fact about me, also, is that I have an eating disorder. We still often enjoy going out to eat, but if I'm in my eating disorder mindset I'll order something very light, like vegetable soup.
Today was a horrifically challenging day in this regard. I had eaten nothing all day when my husband got home and had barely taken in even water. But he wanted to go out to eat, so I obliged him. I ordered sushi, because I'm supposed to be keeping my weight above 110 pounds and it was slipping fast. Every bite felt as harrowing as Persephone's pomegranate, and I told my husband so. I ate six of the eight pieces of sushi and then I stopped. I just couldn't eat more. I started to internally panic. Mr. Suaveterre suggested we take a walk. I told him I'd love to, so we paid and left our car where it was and walked around the city.
We ended up browsing the book section of a Target. We'd only been in the store for 10 minutes, maybe 15 at the most, when I started panicking again. Reading wasn't distracting me and deep breaths weren't working. All I could feel was fullness and anxiety. I said, "Please, I want to go home. Let's go, please. I'm frightened!" and he took my hand and asked, "Of what? What's wrong with you?"
I replied, "I'm panicking and I can't make myself stop. I don't know how to make it stop! I just need home. Please." So we started walking out of the store and back to the car together. He held my hand, locked arms with me so that our forearms are touching, and he squeezed my hand tight. He said, "There's nothing to be scared of. I'm here with you. I've got you. I'll keep you safe." It was like he had taken a page out of one of my favourite fanfictions.
I said, "Thank you. Thank you so much. I feel a little better already", and he said again, "I've got you. There's no need to be scared."
I looked into his eyes and said with all the sincerity I possessed, "You're perfect. You're absolutely perfect. Thank you so much. Where did you learn to comfort someone like that?"
He didn't answer my question, but said, "And you're my perfect Puffling. Perfect just the way you are."
When we got home I held him close and kissed him as though I sought to devour him.
Those cracks I mentioned might be mended after all.