Sometimes, Often

Sometimes, I think about you.

Sometimes, I think about the way your mouth would feel on my neck, and my breathing quickens.

I think about having you on top of me, and my mind goes right off track. I'm completely distracted from whatever I was doing, transported to a different place entirely.

I am overcome by desire.

Dimmed lights, your voice in my ear, your body on top of mine, hot skin on skin, quick, heavy breathing... and finally, your mouth on my neck. This must be heaven. Kisses turning into bites. Biting, sucking on my neck, covering me in marks, just like I want you to. Like flowers dotting a meadow.

Your voice, low, full of lust, possessive, in my ear:

"Do you see those other guys, with their hungry eyes? Because I do. And it makes me very unhappy. I'm making sure they know, that you're taken. That they know to not even bother trying. That you've got a lover, keeping you... sa-tis-fied."

You sent shivers down my spine with each drawn out syllable.

"... Am I?"

Your inflexion at the end of the word was all but necessary. My writhing, moaning and breathlessness all spoke for themselves.

You already knew the answer to that question.

You biting down on my neck. That's all I want. It's hard not to think of, when I'm around you.

And what should I do about it?

Well, firstly, I wonder if you might be thinking of similar things.

Sometimes, there's something in your eyes that makes me think you are. But I can never be sure. I'm always second-guessing myself. I'm always afraid I've just made everything up, that it's all just in my head.

Of all the people in the world I could've wanted, of all the cities I could've moved to, of all the places I could've ended up on that time, on that day, I ended up there, with you. And I ended up wanting you, terribly.

I am absolutely horrified of how badly I want you. I am horrified of all the things my body is begging you to do to me.

You know, I only answer the phone to numbers I don't know in hopes you might, for some reason, be calling me. You have access to my number, don't you? So if you're interested, why wouldn't you call?

You have my number, so why don't you call?

Then again, I don't know if you do have my number, completely. After all, I'm a mess of mixed signals and mistrust. Half the time, I am certain you must see it in my eyes. Half the time, I'm certain you think I am not interested because of how cold I was on accident. I didn't mean to be rude. I'm just shy, terrified of intimacy and have massive trust issues. All this in combination would be enough to make liking someone a terrible, daunting ordeal for anyone.

Kiss me. Make me trust you. Let me trust you.

I wonder if something in you wants me as badly as something in me, that I can't quite define, wants you.

I just want you close to me. Physically and emotionally. But I don't know how to express that... I don't even know if it would be okay to express that, or if you would return the sentiments... shouldn't I get to know you a little better first?

The unfortunate fact stands, I'm very shy. You don't seem shy. So I'm hoping you'd do something first. But with the long, agonizing 2 weeks of not seeing you looming in front of me, I'm beginning to gather up some courage from my frustration. Either courage, or simply being so fed up that it drives you to the point of indifference, making the nerves go away. Fuck it, I don't care, I just need to know.

I need to know if I've been imagining things, or if there actually is something between us.

Often, I think about you.

I don't want you to forget me.

I wonder if I'm just another girl to you. I don't want to be.

-----

It's Christmas time once again. All I see around me are families, gathered around a Christmas tree, gathered around a dinner table, loving, happy. And all I am left with are the haunting/painful memories of a broken family which I am glad to have gotten away from. Memories I am glad to have come out alive from, even if severely battered and barely standing, still alive.

All I am left with is a postcard I received in the mail, that was already ripped to pieces on arrival. And it does make me feel empty. It's a relief, after all these years of running, to accept. I do feel empty. It does leave a hollow in me - one I have now learned I simply cannot fill, I cannot take away, I cannot make disappear. One I can only learn to live with.

-----

A lady just came by to fix my shower door. That's another place I think about you and me in, a lot. You, naked, wet, gorgeous, pressed up against me, in the shower.

This is getting to be too much. I need to stop, I need to slow down. I wish I could erase all these thoughts of you, I wish I could make all my desires disappear. But a small part of me is still entertaining the possibility of them one day, coming true.