My wrist says OUTLAW POWER. Last night I drank two gin and tonics after a margarita and danced on a pole. I know he loves me. I never have to worry about that, and yet...a move like this, so quickly, after only three months -- WHAT IF I feel like I'm making myself so vulnerable, opening myself up to pain and I've had that. I'm no a real orphan, starving or anything like that, but I've had a life.
Do I trust this man not to hurt me? It says so much, how he treats his exes...he's sweet and wonderful and NICE, and everyone knows it. What if he leaves me? It's been eight months since Ethan and twenty-five since my dad, and this is a choice for me to make. He's in this. He makes bad jokes, but he loves me, crazy and all. I have to decide if I trust him enough to make this situation, this absurd set of circumstances, official. I know I love him because it would hurt so badly if he were gone. Although, is that how one defines love? He makes me happy, and I don't get tired of him. I can't imagine I ever would, but I fear that he will me. It's absurd. I want this. Through all three months I've screamed my fear and rushed headlong and sometimes tripped on my own laces and he's always caught me. He's there. He loves me. I don't have anything to fear. Just fall. He'll catch me.
