The memory of it sends tingles down my spine. I close my eyes and remember what it was like to feel you inside me. Our bodies pressed together, and the light moans that escaped my lips. Rewind time to when I first met you. You gave me a hug and asked why I was so nervous. I was scared, but I was willing. I just needed to feel like you wouldn't see my imperfections. Forward to us kissing, you leading me by the hand to your room. Clothes fluttering to the floor, you were warmer than I imagined. Pressure pushes me into the sheets. Your body against mine. I'm still nervous, its hard to catch my breath and I feel like I'm going to be sick. But people do this all the time I tell myself, stop being such a child. later I'm standing in front of a mirror, naked, examining my body. A slight bruise is forming over my collarbone. A lovers mark. Though he is gone I can still feel him. I can feel all of them. Like ghosts around me, fingerprints on my soul, each with a hand on me. Some have been lovers, others friends. Two have paid for it, and one was by force. Back to the moment. You said you'd start slow, and you did.... Someone once told me a lover should be Demure. Beautiful and silent. I long to be held, so I'm passed around like a porcelain doll. Twirling in a dance as I find one embrace and then another. Love is complicated, and sex is easy. Please them, feel good, and feel complete as another shard is chipped away from your heart. How can you feel so complete and broken at the same time? The first few seconds are always the easiest to remember. It's pain, and its ecstasy. I've begged for it to stop, and I've never wanted it to end. You push as far as you can go, pulling me towards you. I hold my breath and grip the sheets trying to not squirm away. I've heard it described as rhythmic. They must have a broken clock. Or maybe rhythmic like a symphony. Its slow and then its fast. Crescendos and lulls. Every thrust is a small gasp, as voluntary as not, air being pushed from my lungs. You pulled out, I was surprised. He said it was the polite thing to do, but it never really bothered me. I find myself in the shower, warm water running down my back as I try not to get my hair wet. I'm a bit surprised by your expression as I'm standing there. Looking at me like I'm a conquest. I find a towel and start to gather my clothes. I'm aching a little, as I pull on my underwear. A hand on my chest as I'm pushed down for another round. I'm walking through a door and hearing it click behind me. In a trance I walk away. The next morning I think about it. The sensations of the night. A tingle down my spine. Next to me my phone is going off, messages from courtiers wanting a connection. Another single night. I choose one at random. I grab my keys, and walk away. ---- Honestly, I feel very broken. Sex has become something reflective, something that happens because that's what I'm told should happen. Being invited to hang out or watch a movie only to have in end in someones bed. Its still a connection, buts its not love. Its not the feeling that you are two making one. Instead it's like being used. Like you are a toy being played with for others amusement. But at the same time you crave the connection. You're alright with being passed around as long as you don't feel so alone.... I wanted to share this because its what I'm feeling inside. I feel so lost. I'm drowning, sinking so fast I can't even fathom being above the water....I don't know what love is anymore. I used to have an idea that it was this bright and beautiful thing. But that idea seems so out of reach, like its not even possible for me.... So much has happened to change the way I view the world... I had a moment where I was being paid to see someone... but that came to an end when one of my encounters ended in rape. After that I tried to kill myself twice. The first time I survived and the second I just couldn't follow through. What do I do? I know I'm babbling...but I just need to talk. How do I stop the cycle... and how do I move past it all.... ~C
The first paragraph is reminiscent of how I've felt a few different times in my life, and I still will every once in a while. It could be a sign and/or symptom of sex addiction. I went to Sex and Love Addict's Anonymous, and it helped me, eh, not much. But the people and online support did. Could be something to check out maybe? And I'm so sorry about your assault. I don't have much experience with that part, just from other's telling me their experiences. But I do have a semi-serious attempt under my belt, and was hospitalized for it. I am about to clock out and go get some sleep (graveyard work) but if you want to message me, we could talk when I got up if you wanted. or in the thread, or wherever. I see so many people having a tough time, who I've been in their shoes. And I know what it's like to not have anyoen to talk to. But we are here. for ya
I understand a little bit about how you feel. Your piece was so full of feeling. I know Ill never exactly know how you feel but Im here if you want to talk, just messge me and Ill reply at the soonest possible.
i don't really have any answers for you, but this helped me understand myself a little better, thanks, at least you know there are people out there who are/have been in a similar position as yourself
This left me shocked. If I may, a compliment on your writing skill. And also this made me sorry for you.
Thank you for reading it, and the feedback. I think I've gotten over my weird funk I was in... though I still feel a little lost, I think I've found myself again. Thats all I need to keep going ---------- Post added 24th Nov 2014 at 11:28 PM ---------- A couple people have told me that this story was "anonymous". That so many people can relate to it, while still seeming extremely personal. I know I learned a lot about myself just by rereading it... Thank you. I've always wanted to be a writer...I feel I have a certain way with words. We understand each other. Also don't feel sorry. Things happens. You learn from them and you move on....
Thank you for posting this. It made me think deep and hard about a lot of things (recent events in my life and people close to me). And as for writing - keep on writing. Every moment of every day. Never let that passion be suppressed. Nurture it and let it grow. Be a voice for those who are unable to speak their feelings. Be a voice for those suffering in silence.
