This post has been brought to you by alcohol
I feel like he regrets it all.
I feel like I coerced him into every encounter.
I feel like I waste his time.
I didn't know how to say goodbye to him. I don't know how to say goodbye to him.
I want to be a responsible adult, and prove to everyone (and myself) that I can fuck someone and not get attached.
But all the sweet things he's said to me and how intensely inspiring he is, developed an attachment I never expected.
I feel like a mistake to him.
But when he embraces me, it feels sincere. When he touches me, I feel like the strongest person in the world.
I'm addicted to the strength I cull from him. Maybe that's why I'm so sad to see him go. He's been a security blanket, a human talisman that gave me power.
I had taste of what his world might be and I loved it.
But when I sober up, I'll be able to look back and be happy for the time we share.
In a twisted way, I'm happy for the tears I've shed for him. It reminds me that I'm not completely devoid of emotion when it comes to sex. I don't just take lust away from it. I collect memories, and I'm happy to have these. I would have never been with him, if he didn't mean something to me. My memories right now are cookie dough...but give it some time, and they'll be cookies. Cookies to enjoy.
But right now...right now, it just hurts.
I feel like I coerced him into every encounter.
I feel like I waste his time.
I didn't know how to say goodbye to him. I don't know how to say goodbye to him.
I want to be a responsible adult, and prove to everyone (and myself) that I can fuck someone and not get attached.
But all the sweet things he's said to me and how intensely inspiring he is, developed an attachment I never expected.
I feel like a mistake to him.
But when he embraces me, it feels sincere. When he touches me, I feel like the strongest person in the world.
I'm addicted to the strength I cull from him. Maybe that's why I'm so sad to see him go. He's been a security blanket, a human talisman that gave me power.
I had taste of what his world might be and I loved it.
But when I sober up, I'll be able to look back and be happy for the time we share.
In a twisted way, I'm happy for the tears I've shed for him. It reminds me that I'm not completely devoid of emotion when it comes to sex. I don't just take lust away from it. I collect memories, and I'm happy to have these. I would have never been with him, if he didn't mean something to me. My memories right now are cookie dough...but give it some time, and they'll be cookies. Cookies to enjoy.
But right now...right now, it just hurts.