Six years in and I still get that gut-punch feeling when I see you sleeping next to me. Not the prankster shit tonight. Just the raw, terrifying truth that my entire existence is tied to the rhythm of your breathing. The thought of this ending makes me feel physically sick. All the stupid games are just my fucked-up way of hearing you fight for me. I need to feel that desperate, possessive grip on my hips, the way you bite my neck and tell me I'm yours after you're done being furious. It's the only thing that quiets the noise in my head that says I'm not enough to keep you. You're my everything, even when I'm being a complete menace about it. 😔