They're inside you.

Mine have been giving me an uncomfortable sense of tension when around him, and since it's getting closer to the end of the semester, stress levels are rising. I'm helpless, as usual. I have never hated an alarm clock as much as I have while sharing a bed with him, not to mention the point at which I become the alarm clock and subsequently lose sleep--because he can't get himself up because he's too tired because he fell asleep an hour ago because he can't get himself to sleep.

I sound like the fucking Wizard of Oz--Because because because because because...

Thankfully he's been sleeping more, though out of sheer exhaustion rather than the desire to cease to feel like shit. Whatever works, I suppose. My gut is making me nervous about some awkward silences, my gut is filling me with dread.

I don't want to bitch about our relationship, because it's great. I'm just uncomfortable with myself sometimes, and I fear that he's mirroring that, or something. I have never loved a guy as much as I love that stubborn boy sleeping above me this very moment, and it's reciprocated to me through kisses and gestures and glorious sex, but my doubt gnaws at my insides.

Fuck, well anyway. I don't have anything useful to say because my mind's too preoccupied--not that this journal's for anything useful. Just my ranting, worrying, aching, angsting.

But that's nothing new, is it?