I finally realized something important that you never said aloud but showed me through everything you did to me. You gave me my first kiss and made out with me, teaching me to be a good kisser, like yourself. You taught me how to use my body to flirt and how the simplest touch, taste, and scent can arouse the other and from that, gain pleasure. My first everything, you took without hesitation, from my body to my soul, I thought you would make me whole. And then, when we were apart, I was nothing to you... someone you were annoyed with through text and calls, despite being the first to contact me. And so, I came to see, that in truth, I was nothing to you, nothing but a play thing; a hook-up.
I should have first noticed when you wouldn't text back unless I texted something sexy or sexual to pique your interest. And then came the blow off you gave me, a bit more brutal than the "let's just be friends" I had expected. And so, for two months, I toiled to get over my puppy love that dumped me after the first date. And I would have succeeded had you not texted me on my birthday, asking if I was ready to lose my virginity. And though I tried to fight you off, I tried not to be drawn in, you called me and lured me back to your arms, and I gave in, giving more than receiving, leaving with fear and doubt in my mind. And that was just our second date.
Our third date I was ready for, having researched articles and videos to give you the proper blow job your turtleneck deserved, and felt high and happy when you complimented my skill. Of that, I felt more proud, than when I aced my first final in college. How sick am I? And then, you chose to end things again, telling me there was no future. I swallowed all you'd expelled in me, and yet, I still wasn't good enough to be anything to you. So I let things lie, but couldn't get over it. So I asked for one more day of pleasure to be spent in your company... and you agreed.
I'm glad I met another at this time and cancelled on you. Though he was taller, more handsome, more romantic, and more sweet to me, when I met with you again, you repeatedly asked about him to the point I knew you were jealous. And still, I stroke your ego by telling you that I preferred and wanted you more. And you took every last bit of me before you fell into drunkenness and started hitting me, over and over again, like I was your sub and you were my dom. Heart broken, confused, and so afraid, I left you and chatted with another interested party on my drive home. In tears and fear, I was so lost, and I convinced myself that, when you contacted me again, you'd never have done that if you were sober.
So, I returned to you, after a strange bout of sickness, and found you like a drunken baby, unable to function on your own and much less, hurt me. I should have left you be, in your misery, but I took care of you and tried my best to be there for you, as a friend and nothing more. And you took that from me, all my kindness and sweetness, you robbed me of my time, energy, and my anger was forced to subside because you needed me. In that moment, you needed me, and I was there.
But, oh, you were still so cruel to me. You called your girlfriend in front of me, speaking soft nothings and gentle kindness to her. You talked like you had all the time in the world, and I was there to simply help you make it through your life. As if I owed you something, I did as you asked and when you left, I actually convinced myself that you would see how much I cared for you and not see me as nothing anymore. And as I wanted condoms just in case we had a teaching time, you failed to answer the simplest of all questions the lady asked me, "What does he prefer?"
I felt so STUPID answering, "I really don't know." You said I shouldn't try to get to know you, so I didn't. You said I shouldn't text you that much, but also asked me not to be with anyone else while I was with you. How is it then fair that you sleep with at least 2 other women weekly... when all my devotion and loving attention is supposed to be on you? ... It was simple. The truth was right there. I was an easy score, someone to play with when you were bored with the other women in your life. Someone who could be a future connection, but no one to you, as of now. Just gas because of the 100 miles I drive to and from you, and money that pays for your liquor and other needs as it comes... A servant, maybe.
I wondered how I missed this important, key, fact about our non-relationship and then I found that your passionate kisses stole the words from my lips as your deep eyes drowned me from my thoughts and your carefully constructed lies chained to the depths of your trap, just out of reach clean air.
You always remind me that you never lied to me... and as true as that may be, your body lied to me. Your body told me you wanted me and that I was someone special to you. Your body was powerful and needy, and fulfilled some of my needs, often your needs came first though. And I wanted to believe we had something, so I lied to myself, telling myself that I could mean more to you one day, if I just stuck it out... You were so cunning, I lied to myself so that I could be with you.
How could I mean nothing to you? How do you kiss someone who means nothing to you? How do you touch intimately someone who means nothing to you? Do you know how badly scarred I am having now known intimacy with you? ... And the worst part of it all is that... I still want to be with you. I still want to kiss you and hold onto you. I passed up on others just to be with you.
How sick am I to have fallen in love with you?
The worst part was, after being drunk, you never remembered anything you said to me. You didn't remember asking me to stay with you. You didn't remember telling me how much you enjoyed being with me. You didn't remember how happy you were with me. You didn't remember telling me that you liked me. You didn't remember slapping me. You didn't remember telling me you loved me. You didn't remember I meant something to you. You just didn't remember.
You mean the world to me, and yet;
I still mean nothing to you.
...
... What am I going to do? ...
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