His arm is heavy at my waist. His chest is pressed against my back. He is not snoring, but the warmth of his breath on my neck is steady.
It is freezing outside. He keeps me warm. He wants me here.
It's not often that I feel small, but he wraps me up like a child. He keeps me safe.
And still I am unsure.
He loves me. He loves me not.
Is this for real?
I don't want to stay in this place. It's too cold.
I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.