I’m playing house. But why am I playing house now at six in the morning? Why do I want to play house with Ashley?

I remember back to the days of playground fun. The boys we always picked to play house with were the ones we had crushes on. We liked to pretend that we had the husband and wife relationship. Now my playground days come back to me with a twist. I play house with Ashley.

I’ve never tried to play house for anyone…

Tears begin burning at the edge of my bottom eyelid. I rushed to the room, running back to Ashley’s comfort. Count that onto the tally of ways that I’m playing house.

When I enter the room, I see that Ashley had turned to face the wall. I remove my pants once again and crawl into bed behind her, holding her close to me. All I felt was scared. But why?

I should be the happiest mother fucker on the planet. But when reality strikes, you’ve got no choice but to accept the outcome.

I began to realize that I’ve said ‘I love you’ to quite a few people, yet I’ve never made love to any of them aside from Ashley. I think of Amanda and how we would be in a relationship. I see nothing but arguments, holes in the walls and a lot of time being spent on rough sex. But it would be just that – rough, uncaring, not at all tender and not at all sweet.

I think of Jason and how I assume he and I would be together. What I see seems perfect from the outside. We would be the perfect couple cuddling on the couch, watching television. But I would feel suffocated, too surrounded. That is how every relationship with a guy turns out for me.

Then it dawned on me – what if I never have this amazing feeling with anyone else that I have with Ashley? And that is when the tears start coming. I try my best to hide it. But Ashley catches on quickly.

“Baby, baby what’s wrong? You’re crying, tell me what’s wrong.” She grabs my hand and laces her fingers through mine. “Baby, talk to me.”

“I’m just being pointlessly scared.” I say easily, hoping that would get me off the hook.