Rushed

Part one of a series of short posts on relationships, how I feel about them in general, and how this one (which I do not feel comfortable writing about in detail) is making me feel.

I have been swept off my feet. Problem is I need my feet. Or rather I need to feel, after a while, that my feet are planted firmly on the ground--my ground. Any attempt I make to try to center myself, to try to catch my breath, to try to take it just a bit slower is read as rejection. Any attempt I make to throw myself into it--in spite of my feelings of being overwhelmed--results in me shutting down, getting angry, and being irritated and annoyed by his very presence in the world.