There's something very soothing on the way he holds me, almost as if I were a baby. He caresses me, rocks me, and gets me to feel protected. Safe. Understood. Almost... petite.
I hadn't felt like that in a very long time. He makes me feel young in a very unexpected way.
At first I felt almost distrusting, but not of him nor did I doubt his intentions - rather, I wanted to prove myself strong and independent. Now, I'm beggining to understand and realize that my strength doesn't lie in my habit of pushing people away, but in trust and cohesion. Being on my own doesn't make me any better, it makes me lonely, sad and weak.
He is my sidekick now, and I love it. My partner in crime. My doppelganger, my best half. He's the one with the best of ideas, he gets the energy flowing when my batteries are out. He made my dreams come true, he's the source of all the good things in my life and part of me.
He's mine - well, not him, but part of his feelings belong to me and I love knowing that. That means that he can share whatever percentage he wants of his existence with me, and not just love, but dreams, frustrations, plans, ideas, time and even the bad days if that's what he needs. That's so much more than the plain, boring physical meaning of the phrase "you're mine", but says even more of what we are as a family.
Yea. He is definitely mine. And I'm his and only his, as I've never been part of anybody else.
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