I woke up in the middle of the night and his arm was strewn across my neck, not across my body like it sometimes is, but ACROSS MY NECK. And the dead weight of his arm made it difficult to breathe, and I coughed, and tried to move his arm, but he couldn't be moved. and he kept sleeping.
Le sigh -- the perfect metaphor. His insecurity and adoration, which I originally found cute, because, well, quite frankly, who DOESN’T want to be adored has shifted to just plain neediness. which is most definitely NOT cute.
It’s turned toward possessiveness, to a constant need to be with me, and hold onto me in some way, like if he doesn’t, I’ll run away.
To quote an old professor of mine, “there is something about the way that he holds my waist like a corset, a too-tight belt…”
It’s suffocating me.
LITERALLY.
Which sucks, because I really do like the boy, but his attractiveness is PLUMETING by the second…
Le sigh…
xoxo
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