Asking is hard.

Frustrations frustrate, they baffle.

I have my cranky on. Nothing satisfies. Nothing is without some amount of undesired frustrations.

Want to be touched like this, don’t want to be touched like that. Need this, don’t want that. One thing after another. Impossible to please. Impossible for me to please myself.

Frustration.

Asking for what I want right now also hard. My tone of voice, my body language screams, it assaults. It has no sympathy and it will cut you, and me.

I need to slow down the close bits. Take them down a notch, where I can feel comfortable again. It’s not about the force, it’s about the intentions. And the intentions point toward overwhelming intimacy and loyalty and I feel smothered by this. I am afraid of this. So I step back, but stumble and can’t talk about it with you.

Not yet.