Ramblings of a Cathy
Like I wanna drown, like I wanna end me
My husband loves me like a King who was born into the throne.
He holds me at night with an arm strewn on my shoulder as I nuzzle into his chest. He carries on with his day with my needs and attention as part of his routine. His kisses on my body are are delivered like well rehearsed lines. His hand on my legs when he spreads them apart are strong: his grasp implies ownership. His compliments are assured and dished out systematically.
My husband, like my son under him, receives me like a servant that is entitled to be there.
I didn't know that until we opened up our relationship.
The way the other guy showers me with too much attention, basks the smell of my chest, looks at me intensely with a far away gaze, and looks to be holding back all the words of misguided attachment towards me...
I thought love was meant to be this overwhelming, constantly validating experience with another human being.