voice

I donate more love to him. And then, besides everything else, and perhaps more important than anything else, there is a magnetic field between us. Physical relationship Sexually addictive sex includes both poetic and sexually - unlike anything I've ever experienced before. From the first time, I was really not shy when the sex came. Nothing brings the feeling beyond the limits allowed. Nothing I do not do with you, for you, with you. We keep saying that this can not be more satisfactory. But somehow it's still really great, time and time again. In sum, we are in perfect harmony, always hungry and crazy about sex and love. That threshold seems too great to be true. So it would not surprise me to realize that it was so great to be true. I can not say exactly when it happened, but maybe a year or so ago. I love it, things start to change. Nothing dramatic happens - there are no cracks from life's major issues, no quarrels with scandalous words of revenge. No one cheats or cheats or moves to another place or receives an ultimatum about what is about to happen. Instead, only one change I can not discern is clear, a quiet transition of power. It's so subtle, actually, in the moment I thought I was just paranoid - the typical lady's clinging was something I was always proud of that I did not, and that was never the case. It should be with Leo. But then, I know not. Leo still loves me; He told me that, he never said the words are not honest with himself. But our feelings obviously became biased. It's just a bit like that, but it's a matter of love - even the most obscure differences become openly visible, marked by small but irrefutable changes in behavior. The little things, like instead of calling me back immediately, hours later he called, sometimes even all day. He started going out regularly with his boyfriends team and joining the agency's ice hockey team on Saturday nights. We started watching TV in the evening instead of just chatting with each other, and sometimes he was too tired with sex, something never happened in our early days when he woke me up regularly get up in the middle of the night, cuddle me everywhere. And even when we make love, there is always a feeling of distant right after. A separation as he rolls away from me or looks deep into space, into himself, his thoughts, another hiding place. "What are you thinking?" I asked, a question that We both despised each other a different way with the correct details. A question that now seems to be bothering him. "Nothing," he bit off. "Nothing?" I asked, thinking that there was only one possibility. Always think of something. "Yes, Ellen. Nothing, "he said as I realized that he did not call me by his usual name, Ellie. "Sometimes I just do not think about anything." "Okay," I said, deciding to give him space to calm himself back, while constantly analyzing his actions, Consider the wrong things carefully. Did I make you nervous? Am I inferior to your ideal? Are you still in love with your ex-girlfriend, a Jewish artist who is six years older than you (ie, she's more than twelve years of experience)? Am I good at her in bed? Do you love me as much as you used to love me - and more importantly, do you love me as much as you used to love me? At first, those questions were only vague in your mind, but gradually They show, sometimes in the middle of a heated argument, sometimes while I burst into tears. I ask for sure words, constantly asking so many questions, cornering him, starting to argue about anything that is not really anything. One night, sitting alone in his apartment, I even rummaged around the drawers and read a few pages of his diary - a secret notebook full of news and magazines, Photos and postcards. A notebook that you carry everywhere and always makes me feel a source of love raises up every time he opened it. This is a terrible mistake - not because I find or not find anything, but because then there is in me the deepest pain, a feeling of inadequacy. Now I am exactly the type of woman; We are exactly that type of couple. I try to get rid of that thought from my mind to live on, but it is impossible to overcome what I did - what I did notI have to do. So a few days later, I was desperately confused, that led to a long-winded fight and he admitted that he did not believe he could ever establish a strong relationship. With me. I asked, feeling broken hearted. "Marriage is simply not for me," he said, shrugging indifferently. "Why not?" I said, pushing him further. Every now and then. He sighs and says that marriage is essentially a contract between two people - the contract is only signed when one does not fully trust someone. "So obviously you do not believe me," he said, throwing all the blame on me. I apologized and sobbed and told him that of course I believed him and that I did not know what had happened. Come to me again and that I do not care about getting married, I just want to stay with him, forever. His attitude stiff when saying, "He is twenty-nine years old. I do not want to talk about forever. "" Okay, "I say, feeling a sense of loneliness. "I'm sorry." He nodded, "Okay. We forget about this, okay? "I nodded, pretending to be soothing, then a moment later we made love and I tried to convince myself that everything would be okay. We are just going through some difficult times, some of the pain is rekindling, and I need to be patient, overcome the challenge, and replace the bad by the good. I tell myself that love is sometimes a painful struggle, and that with the sheer force of will I will solve every problem between us, love you much for both of us. After that, we went to the final quarrel, it was really weird on the calendar, it was just the eve of the New Year's Eve. It was a silly night, "Leo insisted. So every time I blame him for the party I promised Margot to attend. "I know you hate those scenes. And the story of this Y2K phenomenon is unbearable. It's just another year. "" Come on, "I said. "Then let Margot go." "It's important to me." "Oh, it's important for you to stay at home," he said. I wore, begging. "Just a little, one or two hours. And then we'll go home. "" Let's see, "he finally retreated - a reply almost always meant no. But that night, I kept believing he would come and make me Surprisingly surprised. I imagine the dim, vague scene. Our eyes closed and the crowd broke when he found my lips, just after the New Year's Eve. Just like in the movie When Harry met Sally. Throughout the night I looked at my watch and closed the door, a feeling almost disappointed, but more hopeful than ever. Until eleven o'clock in the ninth minute, I stood in a lonely corner, listening to Prince's melodic "1999", and finally at ten seconds countdown, I had a heart attack. Margot in shock had found me a few minutes later, hugging me tightly, flushed out that she loved me so much and that we had to look ahead. But then she returned to her boyfriend, and I went home alone, fell asleep with the phone next to the pillow, waiting, even praying. But Leo did not call that night. The next morning did not. Around noon, when I could not bear another second, I took the subway to his house. You stay home, read the newspaper and watch MTV. "He never came," I said miserably, going straight to the point. "Sorry," he said, sounding sorry. "He also intended to come. I fell asleep at ten and a half. "" I was alone on New Year's Eve, "I said pitifully, feeling myself fit." You too, "he laughed. I say, now more angry than hurt. "Listen. I did not promise you he would come, "he said, agitated. I immediately backed off, leaning his head on his shoulder as we watched football on television, and then making Greek omelet - of Leo - then make love on the couch. But a moment later, when he stood up and said he had to write an article, I was in sorrow again. "Today is New Year's," I moaned, hating my own bitter

voice. I still have a deadline for submitting the post, "he said bluntly. I looked at him, my head spinning with bitter resentment and despair, and then I opened my mouth to utter those shameful words. This is not going anywhere, "I said, sincerely believing that I was just exploring, pushing things to the limit, trying another tactic to get him back. "I think I should break up." I look forward to resistance, a battle, at least a frank discussion. But instead, Leo immediately agreed that I was right. He spoke extremely softly, almost lovingly, which made me feel worse than a harsh answer. He wrapped his arms around me, liberating where he could almost feel it. I had no choice but to do so. In the end, I was the first to suggest. "Hi, Leo," I said, sounding more brave than I felt. "