Toothbrushes And Relationships

It’s just a toothbrush.

He casually mentioned how much more convenient it would be if he just brought a toothbrush over. “It makes sense,” he said. “I’m here all the time anyway.”

I made a noise–the annoyed noise.

“I won’t if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“No, it’s okay.” I breathed. “I think it’s okay. Okay. If I see the toothbrush, and I freak out I’m throwing it away. A toothbrush seems like a big thing to me. Isn’t it to you?”

“No, but I won’t keep one here if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

Then I did the pretend silent sleep toss and turn in bed before I finally gave sleep up and walked to the bathroom. I am fully aware of my one hundred million hang ups and problems with anything even pretending to be a commitment. I had a similar panic attack signing student loans, a car loan and an apartment lease.

But when my life takes a turn into vulnerability and relationships, my panic becomes deeper. After a moment alone with a mostly empty toothbrush holder, I came back to bed. I snuggled closer to him, he enfolded me in his arms. Unconscious. Asleep. Probably not dreaming about toothbrushes in my bathroom.

Jerk.

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