It is impossibly seductive to feel seen and be wanted.
I don’t mean in a nice calm and measured way, over coffee, perhaps a pastry with a light sprinkle of icing sugar on top, civilised conversation, a polite nodding.
I mean in that scary-intense way that crashes over you in waves. That way that feels ridiculous and frightening and tempts you to drown in it.
It’s right on the border of ‘WTF?!’ Perhaps even a little over that line, creating some ripples of instability where the shimmer of heat makes everything hazy.
There is an inevitability to it, it’s a black hole that has it’s own gravitational pull, and I’m digging my heels in and still feeling my feet lose purchase on the solid ground as I slip into it anyway. It’s frightening, fascinating, frightening.
It’s illogical, difficult, impossible. I’m me: I won’t fall into it without a fight. And he fights. He’s brave, fearless, even when he’s afraid. He fights for me.
I’ve missed it so much. I hate it. I love it. I don’t trust it. I don’t trust him.
I’m a little terrified.