It's so easy not to admit...

I expect nothing.

I anticipate nothing.

I actually have no elevated expectations of you. Except that you will be who you continue to be. If anything I have (unfairly) transferred more of my negative expectations onto you, which so far you seem not to have met. But in my experience I will just wait for the day you reveal your girlfriend/wife/baby mama/fiancee/childhood love...or whatever.

I have made up stories (thankfully I've stopped) attempting to down-play why this couldn't work. Another woman, another man, you don't like me, blah blah blah, anything my mind could fabricate to hasten the demise of this "interaction". And instead the reverse has happened, it's grown. During the day you are my soundboard, my confidante, my nurturer, my comedian, my bank, my second pair of eyes, and it's sooooooooooo weird.

It's effin' weird. You are definitely my work husband. While I'm sure they think I'm the office floozy.

Secretly I have my ultimate expectation, that ends up with us and a happily ever after, but even then...having no real, constant wonder of what's going to happen is nice. It's refreshing and it gives my overactive mind a break. I mean really what's the worse that could happen. You end up with someone else? You were never mine to begin with. You break my heart? Been there done that (repeatedly). Maybe I'll be the cause of the demise, initiate a spectacular failure. Also been there done that. So really the only outcome I've never experienced is that shit goes smoothly. And I'm actually a bit worried that if things move too far to the left, will we ever be able to come back right?

Because really all those things that you are, I need it. My pep talks, the hand massages, the sly jokes, hair pulling, scripture reading, inside jokes, silent glances, hi-5's, lunch rides, all of these things I've gotten quite accustomed to, and I'm not sure if I want them to go away.

You probably don't deserve this doubt, but I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around this illusion of perfection of you and reality. No one is that perfect...right? And if they are, why am I so special to experience this type of perfection? Or are you really not perfect, just perfect for me? And again if so, why am I so special to experience this type of kindred experience? I know tons of women who can cook better, clean better, prettier, skinnier, smarter, more demure, better lovers than I am, so really why me?

I don't know. I'm no better than the next woman. I think we all are entitled to love and genuine reciprocated like, it's just weird when it's damn near perfect.