All I want is some control.
I feel like things are slipping again. I don’t want to be wishy-washy. I don’t want to fall into old habits, even if they feel safe.
But I want to be happy.
And it’s so hard to deny that feeling of elation that I get from him.
Though I must remind myself that he isn’t any better than the others. He decided to betray me too. He decided I wasn’t worthy of faithfulness. That I could be simply discarded.
But it’s so hard to push that easy feeling of comfort away.
The way the heat rushes through me so easily when he brushes his fingers over me.
The natural way my head tilts against him when I sit close.
The way he knows to stroke my hair when I’m feeling nervous.
The way he gets just the right level of teasing and sarcasm to make me smile.
The way he kisses the top of my head as an afterthought of affection.
The way he knows I carry all my tension in my neck and shoulders.
The way he recognizes the look of self-loathing in my eyes and knows the right words to make me debate on being beautiful.
No one else knows me so well.
And I find myself not wanting to give those keys to anyone else. But I’m not sure if my possessive take on my innermost workings is because I truly want him to be the only one to unlock them…
Or that I want no one to unlock them again.
Perhaps being closed to the world is better.