Being Too Comfortable In A Relationship Novels & Stories

“Is something about this a problem?” “No. I just… this is happening very fast.” “It has to. We’re engaged. People will expect certain things. Living together is one of them.” He leaned against the doorframe, watching me. “Diana, I need you to be comfortable here. This needs to feel like home, not a hotel. If you need anything changed, tell me. Different furniture. Different colors. Whatever makes this work for you.” “Why do you care if I’m comfortable?” “Because uncomfortable people make mistakes. They look awkward. They act like they don’t belong. I need you comfortable, confident, natural. The more this feels like home, the more convincingly you’ll play the role.”

I'm not ready or willing to give up on the progress we have made so far. How do I tell these men that sharing is an important part of our relationship, but my body can take as much at once as it can? Again, the play sessions are amazing, but often times I'm left spent and useless. I want them to be special occasions while we share the time in privacy as well. Just the surface relationship won't work. Sooner or later, we will sink into a routine that will kill the relationship and our hard work. Right now, as much as we feel for each other, it feels a little impersonal- that's what I want to fix.

The blanket falls from his chest and I can't help but steal glances at his body. "Our entire relationship is trying to find a balance between not enough and too much. Living together feels like it will be too much, and what if that only makes things worse? What happened between us Friday night was too much, you felt out of control, and it ended badly. We can't have too much, and we already know what happens when we don't have enough." Adam peers off to the side, not happy with my answer. "You're my mate. I don't like being deprived of what's mine."

She’d never seen it from that angle. “I know you must’ve felt hurt or offended when all those men broke things off with you. But you have you remember relationships are supposed to make you feel happy and not like you’re not enough. So if these men ended things because they didn’t feel good that doesn’t make them bad guys does it?” “I suppose you’re right but still I’d like a man who wasn’t intimidated by me enough to make the thing work.” “See it’s not your fault and it’s not there’s. It’s just a matter of compatibility and varying interests,”

That would be my first real relationship and I wasn't sure if I could even handle it. I had never been in a relationship before so I wasn't sure how it worked. Although, I had an idea based on romance novels I had read and romance movies I had featured in. It wasn't all that difficult but I had gotten so used to being alone and comfortable with just satisfying my sexual needs that I didn't feel the relevance of a relationship. It now felt as though I wasn't built for relationships and the thought made me somewhat unhappy.

We worked in different buildings, had different social circles, existed independently while choosing to intertwine. It felt remarkably healthy. Almost suspiciously so. "I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop," I admitted during one of our therapy sessions with Dr. Morrison. "What do you mean?" she asked. "It feels too good," I said. "Too easy. Like we're in a honeymoon phase that can't possibly last." "Or," Dr. Morrison suggested, "you're experiencing what a relationship feels like when both people are actively working on it. When patterns are identified and interrupted. When communication is prioritized."

We continued to move forward even with a lot of things happening in between regardless if things became exhausting. I have to admit that everything was always out of control. There was too much to remember to do, too much to remember not to do, and none of it really made sense. It was, at times, hard, uncomfortable, and unpleasant. We spent the rest of our relationship doing unnatural things to make each other happy without any idea if the other was still happy. It started to turn into a disaster.

All it is missing is a can of cheap beer and it would be the perfect mobile for the average frat boy. Laughing, I push the comforter off of my still-sleepy body and step into a pair of slippers that were left on my side of the bed. Gosh, I have a side of his bed. That feels…quick. I’ve never been in a relationship that has lasted more than a few weeks and I worry about how quickly this is progressing. I am usually more casual, less passionate, and more, well, cool. I don’t know a better way to say it, but the way I want to cling to this man unnerves me. I crave him with every atom of my being, and that doesn’t feel natural.

“But seriously, I’m glad you’re going. You need to relax. Finals are enough to stress anyone out, and hockey’s over for now. You deserve to recharge.” He gave me a small, grateful smile. “Thanks. That means a lot.” For a moment, we just sat there, our hands linked across the table, surrounded by the low buzz of students cramming for finals. “Can I be honest with you?” I asked softly. “Always.” I bit my lip, hesitant. “I never thought I’d get this comfortable with someone. With you. Like, it feels… easy. Even when things are stressful, you make it easier.”

I said. "I've had seven years to work out what I should have said the first time." Something moved through me that was not the cold place and not the careful place and not any of the managed, functional places I had learned to live in. Something warmer than any of that. Something I had not felt the full weight of in a very long time. "We would need to go slowly," I said. "Yes." "Zane's comfort comes first. Always. His relationship with you is separate from whatever this is and it does not depend on whatever this is."