Prompt: Write a story based on the title "I Could See the Smallest Things"

How did I get so good at dulling my senses? Ignoring the smallest of things?
 
When I was younger, I saw everything. I felt everything. But somewhere along the way I learned to shut it all down.
 
I saw the way he spoke to others. The way he created no room for anyone but himself. I saw the air he carried when he walked into a room. He floated above the world, never caring to settle into it. He called himself a feminist, but I saw how he responded when I first told him no.

So how did I find myself here? How was I blind to all the reasons I should have stayed away?

We were lying in bed together and I wanted nothing more than to get out from under the weight of his arm.