It’s that time of year when being single is akin to leprosy. I convince myself that you don’t being alone doesn’t depress me. I’m better of alone than dealing with someone else’s bullshit right? Then I think of that person, with whom I was better off than alone.That person who pierced my self sufficient world, and got me hooked; I loved it all – bullshit inclusive.
I never had a problem enjoying my own company but your intrusion into my world derailed me. I tried to convince myself that I was not growing reliant on you, waiting more eagerly for next time than I did the last. I denied enjoying the late nights lying silently on your chest, all spent after a sweaty fuck. I tried so hard not fall asleep, so I could remember you petting me the next day… Your petting always put me to sleep fast but not faster than the thoughts of the next day that swirled in my head, spitting on my temporary bliss.
The next day when we’d put on a show for our close friends who would never really understand the depths of our forbidden passions. At least that’s what i told myself, a small part of wondered if it was because you were ashamed of me. I scold myself for being ridiculous, I know you’re not secretly enjoying my partial surrender and pushing my limits until I had no more to offer, before casting me aside. I know it because, I feel it in the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. Better yet, I know the craving hungry look you cast my direction when you want me. How a wordless glance wets my panties I don’t understand…
You always got to watch me sleep, but I always got to watch you wake. I usually spared cheery thoughts for the early morning. I’d smoke a joint and while watching you sleep, taking you in before you got that casual-dismissive guard back up. What a magnificent thing to see you disarmed. At peace without the trademark half-scowl that lingered beneath you curt smile, as if daring anyone to displease. I’d muse how your mouth’s natural soft curve better complimented your handsome face. I wished you’d wear it more. It made me dream of impossible things for us.
At that point, I’d pad of silently to the kitchen to whip up breakfast high on impotent dreams, Rihanna on my headphones and that stuff you don’t like me smoking. I’d frown at the tell tale musky smell betraying my guilt but smile on at my own genius on realizing that the fresh coffee, toast, bacon and sausages would provide cover. I gorge myself, slowly feeling the energy you so expertly drained from me seep back. Sated, I’d take a hot shower before creeping back into bed, feeling ready to wake you up and unleash my revenge on you. Yes, just like you ruled my nights, I’m certain I made your mornings.
After wearing you out, I’d secretly enjoy watching you wolf down my breakfast, because you taught me I could be that kind a of girl. Only you didn’t deserve it. You gave me plenty but it wasn’t enough, maybe I was greedy or it’s my impossibly high standards plotting for me to die alone. Truth is, I had never a lover like you, a lover who consumed me wholly, saw me do things I got flustered me if i thought of them in the light of day. Despite your cocky assurances otherwise, I’m convinced you can’t be the only one able unlock my inhibitions. I’m convinced that I will find another equal if not superior.