The world needs to know how amazing my husband is.
For the last two years, he has done nothing but study. He would eat, sleep, breathe mathematics. He completed six semesters of PhD coursework in just four semesters, and graduate-level mathematics is HARD. He constantly battled to exceed his higher-than-high expectations of himself — and consequently, he constantly felt awful. He rarely recognized how far he had come or how much he had accomplished. He mostly just saw everything he still didn’t know. He always pushes for excellence and is harder on himself than anyone else is (NB: deliberate present tense). In addition to all this, he also worked as a TA almost every semester, tutoring and grading in subjects in which he was already well-versed. He passed every class. He passed his qualifying exams on his first try.
As a result of all his work, I felt like I hardly saw him. Even in his “free time” and on weekends, he was thinking about and working on mathematics. He practically killed himself. And he did it all for me, because I was only allowed to defer my enrollment at Westminster for two years. This is perhaps the most romantic thing he has ever done for me, and we both hated it.
I often tease him about what a catch I am, but it’s better for me to remember that I’m the lucky one here. I’ve never met such a hard worker or good-hearted soul, and I’m thankful.