He wants me.
He needs me.
He loves me.
He sounds interested and knowing.
He rejoices when my heart is singing.
His voice is compassionate and caring.
He comforts me in my darkest moments.
He protects, nurtures and encourages me.
He exudes a wisdom and confidence I am in awe of.
He wants only the best for me and reminds me how much he’s done.
He is my constant companion, my closest confidante and eternal lover.
He talks louder and more emphatically than the other voices around me.
He treats me with disdain, disinterest and derision.
He overpowers me and makes me doubt myself.
He makes me feel like I can’t exist without him.
He numbs my emotions and scars my body.
He belittles and berates me.
He smothers me.
He isolates me.
He will eventually kill me.
He is the worst boyfriend ever.
He is my Bulimia.