My eyes burned and my chest was tight. I could barely breath from how tight he was holding me. I kept thinking how he was able to sleep after the night we just had.
After my endless and stupid crying I kissed him and kept kissing him until he was caving in and kissing me back. Then I was standing, he followed me as I led him to his bedroom and proceeded to kiss him and touch him in all the right places. I wasn't even horny, not really, but sex always made me feel better and I was convinced that it would this time as well. I was so scared of what he said and how it made me feel. I needed to reassure myself that the very dynamic of our relationship wasn't fucked up.
We were physical people. We had sex multiple times a day since the first week of August. It was one of the best parts of out relationship because after we'd talk about anything and everything until one of us fell asleep. I might hold him when he went to sleep before me, tracing his tattoos and humming to him.
I wanted our sex to be meaningless the way it was when we first started, before I started filling me with warm and fuzzy feelings. And he let me. He let me be in complete control of our pace. He let me pretend we were just fucking like I desperately wanted us to be and not making love the way my heart was screaming at me that we were.
But then he was flipping us over and he was on top of me with his hand clasped around mine. His eyes never left mine, and if all of that wasn't enough he whispered that he loved me as I started to come. His face buried in my neck, my arms and legs wrapped around him, as he repeated over and over again that he loved me. If he felt the warm wetness that was my tears running down his shoulder then he chose to ignore it.
I cried during sex. What kind of pathetic girl cried during sex because her boyfriend told her he loved her? I did, it seemed.
Afterwards when my body was both physically and emotionally spent and he couldn't go any longer, he held me against his side like he was afraid I would run away if he let up even an inch. I might have, with all the crazy and conflicting emotions swirling inside me. He stroked my hair and we talked about our upcoming senior year until he went to sleep. That was almost three hours ago and as the clock slowly ticked towards three o'clock, I lay there, trapped in his arm with a brain that wouldn't shut off.
I couldn't wrap my head on how we got here. Maybe it was the sex and the pillow talk. Maybe it was all the late nights on the phone and early morning flirting. Maybe it was the small smiles and secretive glances. Maybe it was his sweet voice that filled me with so much warmth and calmness. Maybe it was just him and all the things that made him-well- him.
I honestly didn't know when he became this important, this needed, in my life. He just was and instead of really thinking about how we should move forward, all I could do was cry at the most inappropriate moments.
I bet he wouldn't love me when he realized I was a weak little bitch, a stupid cry baby.
Who fucking cried during sex?!
He shifted, pulling me so close that I was practically on top of him, and mumbled if I was okay. He was obviously still half asleep but must've noticed that I was still up. I told him I was fine and before I knew it his breath was evening out.
I tired to think of something else so that I could go to sleep to. My eyes were starting to burn not only from their lack of moisture but also from exhaustion. I really needed to get to sleep especially considering I was going out with Renae in the afternoon so we could get some last minute school clothes, get our nails and hair done and visit the spa for my monthly wax.
I snuggle against him, place a soft kiss to his chest and try to sleep.
________________________________
"What's up with you?" Her pretty dark face was frowning and her dark eyes, that looked so much like mines were filled with concern and annoyance, I have been ignoring her since we started our shopping trip.
