Being close to someone does not mean merging into one blur.
Two nervous systems.
Two histories.
Two sets of limits and needs.
The old pattern is to treat boundaries as walls or punishments.
You say nothing until you are overwhelmed,
then pull all the way away.
Healthy boundaries are more like the space between notes in a song.
Without them, everything turns into noise.
With them, the music has shape and breath.
A good boundary does not say, “I do not care about you.”
It says, “I care about us enough to be honest about what I can hold.”
It protects your own energy,
and it protects the relationship from quiet resentment that builds in the dark.
Love, here, is allowing each person to have a clear outline,
so that closeness is chosen, not forced.