His words.
They're strangling overwhelming yet so so soothing.
His touch...
His touch.
It sets my limbs on fire, leaves me trembling, makes me feel safe.
As the weeks passed Satine has continously lowered my dosage of Ambien. Now I don’t take it at all.
I like the way I feel now that I’m not on it.
My mind is not a darkened closet anymore.
It’s not closed off.
My mind is wide, open, and bright.
A field full of swaying grass, glittering sunshine, and cloudless skies.
And when I’m dreaming, I no longer dream of thick, calloused hands, grizzly voices, and threatening glances. I no longer feel the firm grip of a man’s hands crushing my windpipe, and feel the need to gasp out, wheezing for air.
When I dream now, I dream of Sean, and there’s no terror latching on to my spine when I dream about him. Mostly there’s a fuzzy, warm, tingly feeling that forms low in my belly.
My eyes open to the darkness of Sean’s bedroom and I snuggle into the hard curve of muscle that is his body as he shifts behind me. He positions his chin into the nook of my neck and breathes into my hair, his voice groggy, half-full of sleep. “Are you awake?”
“Sort of,” I whisper into the darkness. I was having an excellent dream a second ago.
His hand comes up from behind me, gliding over my hip, pressing flat against my stomach as he tightens his protective grip on me. He kisses my temple and murmurs, “Go back to sleep, babe.”
I close my eyes, waiting to welcome the pull of exhaustion I’ve been fighting since I woke up from the world of dreams, but sleep doesn’t come.
My mind is too alive right now.
I’m thinking too much.
Rattling off thoughts inside my brain.
I’ve come to know the man lying in bed next to me like the counterpart to my soul since we’ve been together. A month and a half has passed since my birthday and we’ve spent as much time as we can together. Which most of the time is every day. And every night. This thrills me, but at the same time, sometimes I feel like I’m getting too attached way too fast.
Then my questions gnaw at me.
What if I’m more attached to him than he is to me?
What if he gets sick of me?
What if he decides he can’t do the relationship thing after all?
What if it’s too difficult for him to stay faithful?
He told me once when we first started dating and I had my doubts that he was an all or nothing type of guy. He wanted all of me. And he promised he’d give me all of him in return. He said he’d never waiver. But I’m not so sure now.
There are things he’s keeping from me. I know this with certainty. I’ve never questioned him on what I’ve suspected, but now fear and unease live with me daily. There are times where he leaves abruptly and tells me it’s an emergency, but won’t specify on what the emergency is. He’s always hanging out with his friend Murph, and when I call him and they’re together, sometimes he tells me he can’t talk. There are other times where he slips out of bed in the middle of the night, and I pretend like I’m sleeping, when I’m really not, and I see him leave.
Then I start to wonder.
Where he’s going?