Shit. I love him. Still...even more than before. I love his sense of humor, his hands and his silly tattoos. I love his exuberant laugh. I love how he takes care of his life and the things he needs to do. His love of greeting cards and chicken nuggets make me smile. His smell makes me light headed. Sometimes when he is not home I press his shirt that he leaves on his chair against my face and I inhale deeply...and it makes me feel so at peace and happy. When we sit in the same room, and do our own thing, and every once in a while one of us laughs, and we share a thought I am totally happy. He shares with me his private feelings and fears without reservation. And I do the same with him. He listens to me and remembers the things I say. He brings me home little things he knows I needs. He cares about my happiness. He is not afraid to disagree with me. He takes charge and thrills me.
I need to stop loving him. I need to stop looking forward to spending any moment I can scrounge with him. I need to get it through my thick skull that he will NEVER love me the way I love him. He will NEVER be mine. Ever. Ever. Ever. And that the more time I spend with him reduces my chance at meeting a nice man who will be my partner in life. But deep down, I don't want another partner. I want him.
And that is the truth. He is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. And I love him with all my heart.
I am so screwed.
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