As a result, I found myself borrowing a sweatshirt from him.
There is just something about wearing a sweatshirt that belongs to a man.
I swam and I do mean SWAM in it. It was so big that I actually turned to him at one point and asked if the sweatshirt fit him or was too big. He told me it was tight.
I was caught off guard. Lawn Boy, who stands just shy of 6 feet, is the shortest man I've ever dated... by a lot! He works out regularly, lifting weights and is in good shape, but I subconsciously, or even consciously, never realized he was THAT much bigger than me. When I wear heels, I feel like I look him in the eye. Combine that with my self image issues and I guess I just never considered his broadness.
I'm by no means petite and I'm not ashamed to say I like to be with men who make me feel small and feminine.
That was how I felt in his sweatshirt... small and feminine.
And when we inadvertently ran into his ex sister-in-law and I ended up meeting her when I have not yet had the chance to meet his ex, well, I was glad to be covered from knees to chin. She can't go back to her sister and report on my size ~ and she totally should... it's Sister Code ~ because she couldn't actually see me.
There is just something about being curled inside a man's sweatshirt.
I'd forgotten how much I missed it.