When do ...

Differences that once thrilled, like a shot of adrenalin to the heart become a chasm to wide to bridge, that splits a union into clear, independent entities.

Without realizing it, I've begun to nag him. Short of asking him outrightly to quit his smoking habit, have done everything from "I can't stand the smell of smoke". When he drinks, it seems like he loses control. When he wants to spend money on me, in the back of my head I want to stop him from fishing out notes or charging it to his credit card. Behind each reflexive no, is an extricable connection with my intention of safeguarding the future.

I don't want him to die early - because I don't want to be alone.

I don't want him to do something he would regret - like unwittingly cheat on me when he's drunk and break my heart, because I know I will despise him and leave him if he does. For him, there is only one shot. Prematurely, one shot over a life time with me.

I don't want him to dig himself into a pit of debt - because I know I'll resent him if he does, since I grew up under largely leveraged circumstances. My investment/financial decisions are grounded on the avoidance of landing me in the burden of debt, my parents had to bear in the early parts of my life. Relieved only recently.

I hate that I nag. I hate that I nag because I'm afraid of situations that spiral beyond my control.

Fundamentally, pushing aside the currents of tension that have manifested in small ripples early in our relationship so far, these characteristics conflict fundamentally with my own. Masked, however, with the desire to see him before I sleep, the way I'm touched when he makes my breakfast, when he washes my back, or combs my hair.