You'd never know by looking at him, but he's been riding the edge of burnout for years. I'm not sure whether it's because he's a good actor or people just don't expect him to lie, but he'll smile and go on with the day and nobody suspects he's anything other than happy.

Monday through Friday and sometimes Saturday, he works as hard as he can and if anything goes wrong anywhere in the office he blames himself, whether it's his fault or not, and then takes it upon himself to make it right. He's continually the first to get there in the morning and the last to leave at night; he's taken a grand total of two sick days in the years that I've known him.

Five years. Two sick days.

After work he still manages to spend time with our friends, going out, staying in watching the game, or heading over for a poker night. He's never refused an invitation unless it's on my account. In what little free time he has he studies and takes classes at the community college.

Sundays, while everyone else is at church or home with their families, is our day. I try to get him to relax, rest and recuperate for the week ahead. He shoulders all this responsibility and thinks of everyone else's happiness before his own, being Mr. Nice-and-Reliable six days out of the week. It would be seven if it weren't for me. I unplug his laptop, hide the battery, make sure he can't connect to the outside world. Sometimes I take him up to a lake in the mountains where no one else goes because it's so out of the way. We spend the day picnicking, swimming and hiking.

Just get him away from his world of obligations.

Sometimes, like tonight, when I'm holding him after we've gone to bed, he starts to shake and tremble and silent sobs wrack his body. He buries his face in my neck and I can barely hear his muffled voice.

"Terry?" his voice shakes with those two simple syllables.

"Yes, Liam?"

"You know I love you, right, Terry?"

"Yes, and I love you." I smile as I say the next, "As much as the day I first met you. You took my breath away when you smiled and you continue to do so."

He clutches tight to my shirt like I'll disappear if he lets go. "Don't ever leave me, Terry," he says as fresh sobs shudder through him and tears leak out the corners of his eyes. "You're the only thing that's keeping me sane."

I could say the same thing about him. I don't know what I'd do with out him. "I won't, Liam—I couldn't."

And I can't.