O is for One

One of my favorite things to do when I was little was lie on the floor, grab onto my dad's leg, and have him drag me around the house. It was so much fun. You move, stop, move, stop, with the steps. One of my few good memories of childhood.

I think I still do this with people. They start to leave me and I lie on the floor, grab onto their leg, and make them drag me with them. It's not fun anymore. It is actually quite dangerous. You can get hurt that way. People tend to kick when their legs are grabbed.
                        
I did that to Ex. We were two months from getting married. My house was in the closing process. It had been perfect timing - I would move out of my house and into Ex's just as we were getting married. But then he said he was having doubts, and maybe wanted to wait. So I laid on the floor, grabbed his leg, and wouldn't let go. Metaphorically, anyway. In reality, I cried. Then I found an apartment. Then I called him before I signed the papers and cried some more.

You know the rest of the story. He married me. Then proceeded to kick. I let myself get metaphorically kicked in the face for eighteen months. That's a lot of bruises to the soul. I finally let go when he screamed across the entire neighborhood: "Get the fuck out of my house!" and so I was alone.
                       
Now I'm afraid I'm going to do it again, but with my therapist. I want to lie on the floor, grab onto her leg, and cry and cry and cry. Don't leave me. Please, please don't leave me. I'll be good, I promise. I'll do anything you say. Just don't leave me. I don't want to be alone again.