It’s just a package. My money paid for it too. I already think I know what I am getting because he asked me about it specifically. There really is no surprise. And yet I’m curious.
It was on the porch when I got home. He didn’t tell me that he’d ordered it. I know that he won’t mind should I open it. There really is no pressure. But I’m still anxious.
And when I put it back inside in it’s little box. And think about how I’ll pretend to be excited, though I know I’ll tell him I opened it anyway (I always fess up). I’m still guilty.
We’ve been in a weird place and to be honest that’s probably why he got me a gift. We don’t give gifts, well he doesn’t usually anyway. I can’t help myself. He probably wanted it to be a surprise and to mean something special. So now I feel bad.
And it’s just a stupid package. But this is how I am on myself. I can’t so something even simple for me without some crazy backlash. I remember standing in the grocery store and not knowing what I could buy, so I’d call him at work to make sure things I was getting were ok. And that’s not his fault. He never made me feel like that outright. It’s just the way I am with him.
I’m walking on eggshells day and night to keep up with how amazing he is and how much I want to give him. But along the way I became scared of being me.
And now he’s pushing me out, so I can get out of my head and figure out who I am, but what if who I am leaves him behind. I’ll never forgive myself. Of all the failing I could do, have done; failing him is always and will be the worst.
So, on this trip I have to ask myself if I can set myself free with him or will I have to walk away to get that freedom. It’s just the little things. It’s nothing major. Nothing anyone else could understand. I don’t even understand.