once you go mac, you'll never go back. Once you go black, you'll never go back
My life is divided into multiple stages: pre and post.
I gave up along time ago attempting to understand--wait thats a lie, I try everyday to understand.
I am trying very hard to figure out who to write this, to get all that is swimming out. Here are my various stages:
Sensual is in all that I am. I am sensual. I am neurotic. I laid with you and you said it is not your fault, come here. I said sorry you said no it is me I said sorry so you pulled me closer with my legs flexing on top my feet folded all wrong, hurting and you said come here. So I came, there and I kissed on your neck listening and responding directly to your breathing to your sighs wishing I was anywhere else but instead being in that moment. I kissed your lips, silently trying to teach you how to kiss softly sucking on your tongue because you would not and feeling your body respond. It all seemed too easy too contrived I thought I must become better I thought but you were not complaining as you pulled the covers overhead and I lost you in the dark. I thought about rape but I knew I wouldnt say no but I was, I was on the inside but I kept on persisting trying to show myself more than you that I was good, good at something realizing the spoken word of the body and the whole time silently comparing, using you for something else, something written and all the time comparing you to him. I let you kiss me kiss my neck and suck on my nipples, you never undressed me it was never that intimate but you did just enough to get somewhere, somewhere for that selfish feeling that I know you were aiming for because I let you, I let you slip off my pants and stick you cock in me and I felt it, if just for a moment--in that moment, ok-- but I said no, stop I cant and you retreated apologizing as you pulled my pants up and I looked at you as if for the first time. I said you are such a nice guy, I let my sad eyes show I let down my facade my face as if just for a moment letting you see how I really felt and you frowned saying dont give me that face, smile so I smiled just for you but yelling silently on the inside wanting out. We stopped, I laid back down at your side and I just felt your soft skin letting you feel me, with I being so conscious of my body but you calling me sexy saying I should be a porn star and I laughed asking why and you said because of the way I moved my hips and I laughed suddenly conscious but motivated to continue toward my goal. You were on top, I liked it feeling out of control not responsible for where things went feeling your strong arms remembering what it felt like to feel small but you rolled me over, or I rolled over because I knew you liked it--and I aim to please--and again we continued. I was thinking come on just continue, I'm letting you go but my body was reacting differently only moving where you moved it--my heart was somewhere else--but my mind was screaming come on. So you came on, but saying we'll be careful this time so I secretly wishfully knowing I shouldn't made it easier and in it went again, I gasped knowing how low I was falling and you moved me up again and just kissed me. We stopped after that, the anti climax continued the falling action proceeded and I said I must go. You had to go too so we got up me pulling you with you saying no I dont want to go but with me coming back to myself collecting what dignity I had left and we drove off. I realized how little we had in-common outside the physical as the silent car ride continued until you dropped me off where I continued to talk to my other, him.
I am not a good person, you see I am not. I've lost who I am. There is no in between--it is all pre and post. That is post love, post caring.