My want for him is ubiquitous. The hunger is persistent and never fully sated.
The wanting hasn’t diminished, but it has become less obtrusive. It seems I’ve grown accustomed to the feeling–it’s always there, even when it’s just humming along in the background.
Sometimes it’s distracting, intruding on my thoughts and overshadowing my want for other things. Sometimes it makes me restless in the waking hours and keeps me up at night.
Other times it recedes into the background, only making itself known in those rare moments when my mind is clear of other things. When it’s still and small, it’s more easily manipulated and controlled, shoved back behind the many other thoughts that clutter up my head.
Sometimes the want is so quiet and so obedient I almost forget it’s there.
Almost. Even when it’s just a whisper, I’m never quite able to ignore it.
It’s ever-present, always threatening to crash through the feeble boundaries I’ve built to keep it contained.
When it breaks free, the intensity is overwhelming. It’s consuming and unrelenting. No matter how many times it’s nearly drowned me, I’m still surprised to find myself at the mercy of something I can’t control.