And yet it's surprisingly easy.

I am in love. Head over heels in love. I want to accost him with a seething, unbridled passion. Or debauch him in a cheap motel. I know, thats more along the lines of lust than love. It still boggles my mind that he, or anyone else, could be in love with me. He knows more about me than anyone, save Candice who is not living so it doesn't count. He still loves me. I feel so vulnerable. He's everything I've ever asked for and even comes with all the optional accessories that I want but don't need. I've given up a lot for him that I shouldn't have. He's my "forever" in what seems like an endless sea of "now." But theres one thing I don't think I could live with. The spite.
He seems to do things in spite of me when he's mad. I bring Claire over, he drinks. I hang out with boys that outnumber girls, he says he's going to do the same thing and I can't get mad. But I can get mad, because I left. Right? That doesn't feel like love.
He says he won't drink when we're married, but how do I know that? What's going to stop him then? If he does I will leave him, I solemnly swear I will.