I slept with you on the first night because I thought you were different. I didn't try to hit you with the "I never do this with anybody" line, even though it was actually true. You were only the 3rd person I'd ever been with.
During our late night conversations, you said everything I've ever wanted to hear from a man. I couldn't wait to see you again. I even told my mom about you. I was so excited when you finally asked me out on a date. I went and bought a new dress and took the time to straighten my hair, even though I had full intentions on sweating it out.
We had the best night ever, laughing and holding hands over plates of calamari and pasta. I couldn't believe we had so much in common.
I thought you could be the one.
Later that night, after a romantic walk on the pier...you sang my panties right off in a hotel room on the beach that you surprised me with. You touched parts of my body that I didn't even know existed. At times I felt like you were touching my soul. We went for hours, and that still wasn't enough. I couldn't believe I could feel so high.
A few hours later, your phone rang. You said you had to go, and hurriedly ran out the door, leaving me in the hotel room by myself. I was a little bothered by how abruptly you left, but I figured it must be an emergency.
The next day I tried texting you, innocently enough, just to see if you made it home safely.
A few hours later, I called.
Nothing. Straight to voicemail.
I texted and called you sporadically over the next few days. I checked the news and even Googled your name to make sure you weren't missing in a ditch somewhere. After finally accepting that I was never going to hear from you again, I cried for days. I wondered, how could a stranger feel so familiar? How could my own mind betray me like this? You were the enemy, and my heart accepted you as a friend. I felt like I had known you for years. Like you had known my body for years...
I was pissed off and craving you at the same time. I felt like I was going crazy. You played me, completely, and I fell for it, but yet some part of me still desired you...
About 8 months later, I would finally see you again while out with my new man, at the same restaurant you took me to. You were with your wife, and an infant...who was maybe about 3 months old. They were both beautiful. You looked right through me like I didn't even exist, but I could see the panicked expression in your face. I watched you eat slowly, taking slow calculated glances in my direction as your wife chatted away. I knew you were uncomfortable in my presence, and I took solace in your discomfort. It felt good to watch you squirm, wondering if I was going to ruin your life with just a few words.
But lucky for her, you are dead to me. The ghost of orgasms past.
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I don’t forgive him. Not yet.
Bodies moving in sync
You can't come in here...
There was no glory in side-chicking or deception, only pain and illusion.
I love him for making me feel loved.
6 years, 2 kids, countless jail/prison stays, and the abuse...
In the loneliest hour my thoughts seem to always go back to you.
It's time for "the talk."
My late night ritual consists of 4 cookies, a cold glass of almond milk, and going through my fiance’s phone...
I laid there staring at the ceiling...
Blue-green plush carpet sliding through my hands. Chirps coming from crickets we hid in grandma's closet...
I had this glorious idea of how I could tell my story, but then I received a phone call from a distant ex tonight...