Every night, when he goes to sleep, I creep out of bed.
I pace back and forth in my bedroom wondering if I should go through with it. Why not? It's not a big deal. It's just this one time, it's not like I don't love him. In fact, it has nothing to do with him. What I get from it doesn't even compare to anything that he gives me. I don't feel the same thrill, the same anticipation, the same rush... so I do it.
I watch "Breaking Bad" without him.
At first, I didn't even really want to watch it. He wanted to and I thought, "Well, everybody else is doing it and it seems so good, I might as well do it too!" And then I loved it, of course, but I had a difficult time with it (because of my anxiety.) I'd watch one or two episodes and have to take a break because it was stressing me out so much.
But now I'm so invested. I'm halfway through season three and it's like, ugh. I just have to know what happens, despite how anxious and paranoid it makes me. But he's always falling asleep during episodes (because he's tired, not because he's bored) and I feel like I'm allowed to finish the episode because at least we started together... but then, I feel guilty for moving on to the next one. Because we all know one more becomes the rest of the season. And then it's 6am and I'm crying and unable to sleep because I'm afraid Mexicans are going to show up at my apartment and kill me despite my complete lack of involvement in the drug trade. Also, that wasn't some cheap joke at Mexicans, they really are Mexicans. From Mexico.
Right now, I'm dabbling with one episode at a time. But when does it get worse? When does he wake up for the day while I'm finishing the whole series in one anxiety-ridden session?
I don't know. I'm hooked. On a feeling. (Like... years too late.)