I realized a couple of days ago that I’m somehow too much and not enough at the same time. Too much in the way that I love. But not enough for the other person to do better.
had a date last night and I wasn’t going to fuck but I’m glad I didn’t listen to myself because holy SHIT it was probably some of the best sex I’ve ever had.
I hate that I have to break myself and let myself be hurt in such a severe way before I can let go. I hate that I only have enough space in my heart for 1 person at a time. I need to accept that your silence is as much as an answer as you telling me directly that you don’t want me.
I am proud that I have gotten to a point in my life wherein I will no longer beg for someone just for the sake of not being alone. I’m proud that I am able to see people and situations for what they are and not what they could be. I’m proud of letting go of things that aren’t meant for me, of not forcing myself to be small or to settle for things that are not enough.
I’ve been working as a nurse for the past 2 years. here are some updates
learned olympic lifting. fell in love with it, then fell out of love when it became really hard juggling working/learning all that I could within my nursing role and finding time/energy to work out. I'm hoping that I'll fall back in love again someday
I moved out of my parents’ place. finally. I love the freedom, but hate the responsibilities. kinda just happened on a whim. my parents tried to impose a 10pm curfew (for understandable/valid reasons), but as a 28-year-old I couldn’t understand how my curfew became EARLIER than when I was 21. no matter what I did to show my obedience, it never felt like enough.
I was a stroke nurse for a little bit during covid. it was exhausting, but so so so integral to who I am as a nurse. it definitely built resilience within me, and now because if it I get to work at one of the best hospitals in LA. worked with liver/kidney transplant patients for a year, now I'm training to be a cardiopulmonary ICU nurse so that’s really exciting. nervous for the feelings that come with being in an uncomfortable environment and having to prove myself all over again, but I've also understood throughout the years that those environments are opportunities for me to become better.
despite how much I love being a nurse, it sucks that the government literally takes 40% of my check. living in LA becomes really disheartening when I'm still living paycheck to paycheck and it feels like I'll never be able to own a decent home.
I lay next to you, my legs intertwining between yours and your arms holding me safe from the world. the stupor from the alcohol is creeping into my mind. the usual walls that I carry start to fall down and my vulnerability begins to waft out of the cage that I have carefully crafted throughout the years. I touch your face slowly. softly. but then I pull you in hungrily, eager to taste your lips and desperate to drown any feelings of guilt or sadness I had felt from earlier in the day. I can feel your desire for me grow, also meeting my level of hunger. you bring yourself up on your elbows so that I am now below you. I respond by refusing to let you go, wrapping my legs around your waist and running my fingertips along your skin.
in this moment, I know that we both feel the burden of waiting - of how tired we are of refusing our physical attraction to each other. I find myself intoxicated, drunk off of the lust and alcohol.
you pull my underwear down, ready to taste the wetness and desire that has been building up in me. but you’re a tease and you don’t want me to win so easily, unwilling to give in. your lips graze my left thigh softly, just enough to leave butterfly kisses that slowly trail down to my center. and just before I think you’re about to taste me, you give my right thigh the same attention. I'm holding my breath in anticipation, cursing and praising you for building the tension that has been accumulating. you get closer and closer, finally diving in.
the same softness you gave to my thighs does not carry over. you lick every inch of me, tasting each drop. but this isn’t enough. I want more. I need more. I beg you to bring your lips to mine so that I can run my tongue along yours. i am curious to know what the mixing of you and me tastes like. I hold you tightly, trying my hardest to convey to you that I need to feel you.
I can see the doubts in your eyes, wondering if this is all too good to be true. if I'll leave at the first chance I get. i bring my chin up to your ear and whisper, “you are it.” I sprinkle kisses across your face, and repeatedly confess to you that you are it for me. with each whisper, I can feel you bringing yourself closer and closer to the entrance. I'm holding my breath again because I can already feel myself desperate to pull you in.
and so I beg for you to tell me. tell me. tell me.
“I love you, Luriel. I love you, I love you, I love you.” and with your confessions comes your full length of desire plunging into me. the pain pulls me out of my drunken stupor, but I can’t bear to pull back. like the shock of diving into cold water, I am suddenly aware of every inch of you sliding in and out.
I can’t take it. I want control. I need to feel in control of you. I flip you over, and I ride your hips slowly, like I'm coasting on waves at the beach. fuck, you feel so good. even with me attempting to set a slow tempo, i still feel you fighting to stretch me out. I ride you faster, greedy for more pain. I need more.
I tell you that I want you behind me. I arch my back and position myself for you to take me. your hips slam into me and the pain of you sliding in deeper than anyone else before has me gripping the edges of your bed. my toes curl from the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure. my moans began as small whispers, but now I can’t contain the whimpers. I can feel you getting off on your power over me. I can feel it in the way you tighten your grip over my hips. in the increasing frequency of our hips slamming together.
I've never felt so in tune with someone else’s body before. never like this. the pleasure I give you has you near the edge of the climax. I beg for you to finish. I want you to fill me up and make me yours. with the waves of your climax, you empty every single drop.
“I love you, Luriel. I love you, I love you. you are my everything.”
I finally hopped on the k-drama train because I've watched everything there is to watch on netflix/hulu. I would just like to say that in “boys over flowers,” geum jan-di and gu jun-pyo is NOT the ship the show should be focused on. so yi-jung and ga eul were definitely the better couple.
also idk if it’s a culture thing, but there were so many problematic things going on (at least by American standards).
germansingergirl
blakekathryn
gamechangershow
tangentwithtanner
romaincrisis
theartofmadeline
