nothing static

He loves me in the expected way, like I love him. It is, "I'm not totally in love with you. I don't know if I ever will be." Why are we the same emotionally? How can two people who are so alike at a complete base level be so different in every other way? Is this the opposite of the rest of my relationships? I don't know. Who are these people I attract? Who are these people that attract me?

He likes my eyelashes. How long have I waited to hear something like that?

It seems melancholy and melodramatic, these tiny things I want to know. Because I love small things about people. I like the set of the jaw, the taper of the ankle, callouses on hands, hair on feet. I like freckles in strange places and eyes that slightly slant up at the outside corners. Hipbones. Rib cages. The cadence of a laugh. Smile creases. A smile is everything.
I want to say more, I want to continue a description but it's written all over me. Anything that is done tugs at me. I am not my own person anymore. A little piece of me belongs to him, even if it's a tiny sliver. I think that's ok. I think hearts can regenerate, if the scar tissue isn't too thick.

My obsession is love. Sex is a substitute until I can fully give myself to someone again. This was a trial run, and I know I'm not ready yet. But it was necessary. I needed to know.
Thank you for your kindness and patience, openness and honesty.

You've made such a difference.