it's a strange feeling, to know that you are loved. and not in the way that a parent loves you, because that's always seemed a protective but fearful love (my parents are incredibly overprotective, but i'd rather they be that than not care what happens to me).
when i used to engage in self destructive behavior, i would tell people i knew in real life. just a handful of them. only the ones who would enable me. i'm not friends with these people now, for obvious reasons.
but now, to even have those thoughts, and my first instinct to be to tell him...i don't know. it's weird. not like my past relationship, where i would lie through my teeth about what i was doing or thinking or feeling. i can't hide things. even 2000+ miles away, where i could get away with pretty much anything, i can't even make a lie of omission.
maybe it's because i know that what i get back won't be support for sick thoughts, or anger or disappointment. he asks me why, what i feel, what's making me feel that way. he'll tell me to be safe, and trusts that i am smart.
it's really fucking awesome.