I’ve been talking to someone, but only giving him my surface. He and I haven’t gone a day without talking since Thanksgiving; this is all so foreign to me. I don’t know how to get to know someone anymore. I didn’t know if I liked him at first. We drunkenly hooked up, but I think that’s where it all started. I found myself thinking about him all the time. I wanted to see him when I left work, and I wanted to leave his bed to go to work. His hands are something else; they’re rough and worn in the palms and his fingers are tough, but the way he touches me is soft. He pulls me into him, he kisses my tattoos and my sides and my chest and sometimes he leaves marks, but I like looking in the mirror and seeing traces of him. Last night he told me he sees us as great friends and I got upset and I told him friends don’t touch each other the way you touch me, but I had to censor myself because too much emotion would scare him away. I cried for a minute, because the thought of whatever we are made me happy; it gave me something to look forward to, and now I have nothing. It’s too soon to decide if it’s worth it or not. He’s so young but I feel like we could grow together. “Friends” don’t squeeze my hips the way he does, the way he bites my skin and neck and the way he holds my hand when he goes down between my legs. I didn’t cry over him because he hurt me with what he said, I cried because I feel defeated; it’s so so fucking exhausting to put time and effort into something temporary just to know it will be gone sooner than later. I wish he would grow up, I wish he would open his eyes. I wish he could see me. I shouldn’t expect anything more or less.
titsay
andulkaphoto
ellievsbear
baratheonpilled
