You wake up every morning to sweet text messages.  Not that “good morning beautiful” bullshit either.  You wake up to genuine well wishes and sentiments of longing to see you, and now you have an extra boost of energy for the day.  He calls and says, “Get dressed we’re going out,” and you love the spontaneity and mystery of it.  He keeps you on your toes, so you’re never bored.  You may even travel to see him sometimes.  He has an enduring presence in the back of your mind.  He makes you laugh and blush.  He pleases you in ways you’ve never experienced before, and unexpectedly you find yourself daydreaming, replaying it in your mind and outwardly biting your lip in memory of the moment.  You discuss things about the world, and he introduces you to ideas and concepts you’d never considered before.  He makes you think.  He disarms you.  He makes you feel comfortable.  He really sees you.  He says things in the plural like us and we, and uses future tense.  But this is not your boyfriend.  No commitments have been made, and fear, anxiety, and insecurity creep in.  Now every time his phone goes off you wonder if it’s another girl.  Now you grow suspicious of the times he’s taken a little longer to text back.  Now you notice certain likes and comments under his pics.  Now you have the sneaking suspicion that that which you’ve become accustom to may not actually belong solely to you.