I loathe vomit. More than the average person, I think. I cannot smell it, I cannot be near it, and I cannot see it. I plug my ears immediately if I even think someone is going to be sick. Hell, I hate vomit so much I’m struggling to write this paragraph.

Two days ago, the strapping young man I call “boyfriend” was sick. He threw up three times. The first time I suspected it, the second time I heard it, but I was back at my apartment before he did it the third time. I felt bad for abandoning him, but the thought of contracting the flu and spending the day by the toilet was just too much for me to bear.

So, my question for you is: am I a bad girlfriend and if so, how bad, on a scale of one to ten? Normally I wouldn’t think twice about this, but the guilt of selfishness is killing me.

When he felt all better, he made it a point to give me feedback. “How can I think about marrying you if you refuse take care of me when I’m sick?”

“Well, when we’re married, we’ll have a big house, so you can be sick in one room and I’ll wait until you’re better in another,” I replied.

“But that’s not what normal married couples do,” he said.

“Why can’t you just respect that I hate being around vomit?” I asked.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to take care of you when you’re sick,” he chuckled.

“No! You don’t get grossed out by vomit! You have to take care of me if I get sick. That’s the rule. I manage the money…you manage the puke.”

The marriage vows say “in sickness and in health” but I don’t think I’ll be able to handle “holding my [future] husband’s hair back” when he’s sick. My goal is that I break myself of this phobia before I start having children. I wouldn’t want anyone calling CYF on me.

But for the time being, how bad of a girlfriend am I? Honest?

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