entry # 107 - pretty fly (for a white guy)

                                    

                                          
⚠️ mentions of eating disorders and lame jokes ⚠️
'I love you'.  I sigh, smooching his lips and rubbing the tip of my nose against his a little, before resuming my comfy lay with my head on his chest. He chuckles with it, and jokingly pokes my cheeks until I put a fake pout on. We cuddle up a little, giving zero fucks about pulling a PDA session in the waiting room of a family planning clinic. His arms are around me, my arms are around his, and my leg is tucked between his two own ones. We are kissing, in a very slow, very romantic, very loving manner, and we're digging every single moment of our tongues' gentle entwining. He's being a cutie, and I'm mirroring his energy in my very own way ... which means, extra sappy and kinda sweet! I know I am the luckiest girl alive, I have the best non boyfriend boyfriend a girlie could ever ask for, he's kind and loving and attentive and fucking supportive of me, and I ... gahhh. I don't even know what to tell him here, besides 'I love you'. No sweet kiss and no heartfelt love declaration could be enough to convey the way I love him. He is much better than me, at using his words, and he's really given it away all evening long: let's not forget that he's the same guy who stuck by my hip during the checkup, and who kept me tame until the end of it. He's the same guy who's just given me total laissez faire about this pill taking thing, because he prioritises my well being over everything else. Love is in the little things, in the little words and in the little acts of service ... and man, I could never not love this one over here. He makes me happy! He makes me forget about the things that make my life a whole, continuous paranoia! He takes good care of me, and he doesn't ask for anything in return! He doesn't ask anything and that's it... and to be frank, this is one of the things I like the most about him. A keeper! If I could just keep him the way I wanna, to begin with ...
'I love you, Cher. And you're not alone in this'. He speaks, a slight smile making a cameo on his lips as he curls one of my red strands around his pointer finger. And I giggle, because for once in this life, Sean and Cherry haven't lost the original track of the exchange: we're still talking about my 'issues', in a very concealed manner ... and whatever 'issue' he means, when he says 'this', whether it's my criminal lack of periods or the eventuality that I might feel bad after taking the pill, I am glad I won't have to face stuff on my own, and that I'll have someone who loves me by my side, all along. I am grateful, but also humbled by this kind of attention he's giving me. Because y'know, coming out as someone with a longtime eating disorder and consequential fertility issues, aka as someone in need of help, ain't very self sufficient, tough as nails girlboss-like of me. I don't need anyone's help, if I want to get better I will eventually do the thing by myself, when I feel like I'm ready for a change. As of right now, I don't feel ready for a change. But I do feel ready to take the damn pill and put my mind to rest, aware of the risks that may come with it and all. Whatever happens, after I take it, I won't be alone. That's a love declaration in itself, isn't it? I just have to let my walls crumble down to appreciate it to the fullest. 
'You have me. I'm a fucking idiot,  I have no idea why would a girl so pretty fuck herself up... but I'm better than nothing, right?' He adds, cupping my face between his palms and giving my cheeks a few playful pokes. And I chuckle, because this is yet another example of Sean being cute in a 'only Sean in the world' kinda way: self deprecation, crypticness, jokes, and aggressive cheek poking. My man, hundred percent !  I'm actually surprised he ain't biting my any body part, or toying with either one of my body piercings, because that's what he normally does to show affection in a non cheesy way. My chuckle turns into a heavy sigh of relief, if that even makes sense, when I think more closely about the words he's just said. He is staying somewhat humorous through this, but he's tryna let me know that he ain't talking about the morning after pill drama. That, is a topic that's already been settled: it's up to me, choosing whether I want to take it or no, 'cause it's my body we're talking about, and he wants nothing to do with my ultimate decisions over it. But one way or another, it's still my body we're talking about, right now: he's addressing my eating disorder, and he's tryna ask me why I keep fucking myself up without having to ask it to my face... because asking straight away is the least Sean thing there is in the world, and we all know it.