The first time we slept together he told me “I’ve wanted this for so long”, and “You’re so amazing” and then held me all night. Even now he praises me the entire time we’re together and takes any opportunity he can get for us to spend the night next to each other.
The last time you and I had sex, you said “thanks”, wiped yourself off, and went about your day. When I sleep close to you, you complain about my hair tickling or irritating you and you move away.
He kisses me. Deep, passionately, before, during, and after. My lips, my neck, my collarbone and more.
You give me a quick peck to say hello and goodbye. Never closing your eyes, never lingering for half a second.
He touches me. He cups and gently squeezes my breasts before gently kissing my nipples. He caresses my tummy and hips and makes me appreciate the parts of myself I hate, all because his hands wander there.
You hardly ever even look at, let alone touch my “ruined boobs” as you call them, supposedly jokingly. You either place your hands behind your head, on either side of me, or occasionally on my knees or lower back.
He looks at me. He tries to catch my eyes with his both in public and when we’re alone.
You close your eyes so tight during sex I can’t help wondering who you’re thinking about.
He looks for me. Even at busy crowded get togethers he’s not at ease until he finds me and knows I’m there.
Our last trip together I fell behind your pace while walking with you and you didn’t notice for 7 minutes.
We talk and share our days, our experiences, ambitions, desires with one another. He remembers little things I mentioned to him years ago.
I can’t get a word in edgewise when you’re talking to me. When I try to start a conversation with you, you often don’t even realize I’m speaking, or you ask “were you saying something?” after I give up trying to get your attention.
He makes me feel seen, wanted, beautiful, sexy, important, smart, and frankly I can’t ever get enough of him.
You make me feel like I’ve wasted 9 years. You make me wonder why I couldn’t have met him first, and if I’ll ever get the courage to leave and let myself be loved to my full potential.
Theodore Lee is the editor of Caveman Circus. He strives for self-improvement in all areas of his life, except his candy consumption, where he remains a champion gummy worm enthusiast. When not writing about mindfulness or living in integrity, you can find him hiding giant bags of sour patch kids under the bed.