The first time

'A hundred hearts would be too few, to carry all my love for you.' Author Unknown

Dear Diary,

For the first time, Will came to a therapy session with me. Dr Shane was so calming and despite the embarrassing and confronting scenarios she put before us, I didn't freak out. She said Will was doing the right thing not accommodating my OCD and he must continue to stand strong even though it causes him pain seeing me suffer; we don't want it to become a family member. She showed us exposure and response prevention techniques that have shown a 70% reduction in others' obsessions and compulsions. We talked about the situations that trigger obsessive thoughts and anxiety, patterns of avoidance behavior, and patterns of compulsive rituals and she came up with a strategy. The next day, Will got to put our newly learned strategy into practice:

As soon as I put the phone down from my mother, I went to unload the dishwasher but quickly banged the door shut and leant against it. Will watched me.

'Speak to me Emma. What is it you're seeing?

I went to put my gloves on, but Will quickly stepped in between me and the gloves and clasped my hands.

'Sweetheart, your mind is playing tricks, verbalise it.

I shook my head.

'You can do it.'

I took a breath and said, 'I can see germs…black spots all over the dishes….they're everywhere.' I frowned. 'I know it's not possible.'

'You know they've been washed in impossibly hot water and super-strength detergent – you put it in yourself. Will opened the dishwasher and picked out a plate. He ran his hands over it. Then put his hands over his face. I cringed.

'You know what you have to do.'

'I stared at the plate.'

'What's your anxiety level?'

'Ten.' I replied.

'Hold the plate Emma. Show the fear who's boss.'

'I don't want to.'

'Emma you're the strongest person I know.'

God, why was it so hard? I took the plate with reluctance and held it. I tentatively rubbed my free hand over it.

'Now the other hand. Keep holding it while I unpack the dishwasher.'

After a few minutes Will asked me what my anxiety level was.

'Five,' I replied.

'Good.' He walked over to me and ran his hands over my face. 'Your turn.'

I put my hands to my cheeks.

'What is it now?'

'Less…four, three.'

Will guided the plate to his face and he licked it. 'Your turn.'

'No, I can't.'

'Emma, you're stronger and smarter than fear.'

I looked into his compassionate but determined eyes and knew he wouldn't back down.

I gave the plate a quick lick.

'And again.'

'I licked it again.'

I felt my anxiety lowering.

'I'm at a 2.' He smiled and hugged me.

'Honey, you're beating it. We're like an OCD Resistance team.'

I looked at him and blurted out, 'I'm sorry you had to meet my parents.'

'You know I had to meet them eventually?'

I nodded.

'But something good has come out of it.'

I looked at him questioningly?

I feel like I'm finally seeing your very core. Nothing more to hide…I've seen what's made you you. And I love you even more.

Dear Diary,

Artie told me thanks to Will he's found his true passion – bossing everyone around! The most embarrassing thing happened today at rehearsal. Rachel and Blaine were singing 'Tonight' which moved Shannon to tears but all I noticed was their teeth. Then Artie told them that the entire show was about sexual awakening, their performance lacked passion and he didn't believe their performance was believable enough. He asked them about s-e-x. I didn't even bother making up an excuse, I just got up and walked out. So did Shannon. There is no way I'm broaching that subject with the kids. It's totally inappropriate. I have only just learnt to talk about it with Will.

Dear Diary,

Show time. I was so nervous. There are just so many things that can go wrong with a live performance – wardrobe malfunction, lighting issue, sound, orchestra, timing, backstage, props, technical faults, actors forgetting their lines, but this was Artie's baby and I had to keep him calm. I took my seat next to Will and he took my hand and reassured me it was the best school production McKinley has ever put on. I said Artie took some artistic risks like making the Jets new migrants in America. I just hoped people would go with it. And they did. There was such a feeling of euphoria at the end. When we got home Will and I sat up for hours snuggled together talking about it. I said, 'I noticed that 'One Hand One Heart' moved you to tears.' He wove his fingers through mine, 'It moved you to rest your head on my shoulder.'

I smiled.

'Feel like practising some 'exposure'?' Will asked.

I nodded and turned my lips to his.