He’s invading me. Gently. It’s so different. And so good.
But there are boundaries. Lines. Rules. No texts after five. She’s home then. I’ll call you first, he says.
Thank goodness for the distance between us. That will keep us safe.
It’s the old cliché. High school love, rekindled.
He’s not mine to claim. And why should he be? I didn’t claim him before. My damaged soul was too fearful of pain and my dreams too broad to take that risk.
In his arms it felt like coming home, a brief respite from my crazy world.
I feel like I’m empowering him, showing him the true reflection of who he is and can be in the reflection of my love. But at what price? The sting of reality just pierced my chest.
Spending more time than usual with a girl at the office, he says.
The pang surprised me. We talked of him having adventures with others recently and I was fine. But the crunch in my heart when I read his text was physical.
That’s how much I’ve opened up to him. That’s how much I’ve let him in. How much I’ve let my guard down.