lost

I’m in a whirlwind. I have herpes. I don’t. I’m irresponsible. I’m a slut. T’s words are in my ear fucking me. N is nibbling on my throat. N’s lips meet mine. X is hugging me tight. I need you. I don’t. I don’t need anyone. I’m telling lies. I want the truth. Did I trick N? Did I trick you? There are no words. I try to speak. N maybe we should. X you shouldn’t have. T I don’t think I should. I don’t need your intoxication. I want it. I crave it. I crave you too. Do I need him to hold you away? Why did I start this? Why are you you? No courage in these thoughts. I can’t walk away from you with your cock still in my cunt. And they all think something that’s not, and it’s all my fault. I don’t even like N that much. Why am I doing this? Well I like him. But still no trust. Too volatile. Too reckless. Too immature. Like me. No love. No need. Just a vague interest. Feels like a pantomime. Could be real. I’ve missed kisses. I’d forgotten how. His face is vulnerable. Yours never is. Not with me. Which do I prefer? Which is scarier? What am I doing? Lost. Why have I been doing this? Why do I let things move so fast? And still be so cautious? Because I can. I can’t admit all even here. I don’t want to, I was doing so good. You all are reading, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. I just get off being someone’s hot fantasy. That’s all N is? T T T T you’re worth more than an initial. I am so overwhelmed by you sometimes. I want to run so far. I should. I think that’s what I wanted. A distance. Hah. So glad you called me back two times. I missed that voice telling me when to cum. You floor me. I flirt with N. I’ve already fucked once with N. I haven’t told you. You floor me. I haven’t told you. Everything you are. My fucker. Not mine. I talk to you on the phone and you make my cunt hurt with a sentence or two. None of this N like easy generic teasing with you. All my yous here are Ts and that is scary. I tell you I think we might have to hold off the sex for a while if I am to date N and I think, what the hell have I just said.?? I haven’t even thought about this. I’ve thought of it too much. You understand. What you can give, what you cannot. You miss hearing me cum. You’ll say no more. We wish each other a nice day. I sit there wanting to fuck you. You call back, because you know, when have you not? I tell you we can play but I don’t want to have sex with you. Don’t misquote yourself, yes you do, is your answer. I stutter. Let me rephrase that for you, you say, you want to fuck me… Well I want but I don’t want to because. I want but I can’t. There are things holding me back. These are my answers. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have said anything to you from the very beginning. I shoot the gun and I make things difficult. I owned up too late and not fully enough. You call back again. We cum. I’m loud and you want me to be. You are always so good. You always bowl me over. I miss the effect your words have on me. I'm afraid I'll be 50 with a husband and I'll still have thoughts of you. Intensity leaves marks. Maybe not so bad. Maybe it won't detract. Just chalk up. Chalk up another good experience. Chalk up another mistake. I can date N you know. He’ll take me on a date. Dinner and a movie and a hotel. I like N. He's younger than me. You're older. I'm stuck in the middle. I fucked with N. I haven’t told you. I just told you I might soon. N laughed at how loud I was during sex. It surprised and amused him. He knew about the possible herpes scare and didn’t care. Said we’d be careful. We used a condom and no oral and he washed up afterwards. Why the pointless lies? Stupid near truths and missing information. Stupid when the truth isn’t much worse. Shame. And I know you, I know I could have told you all. You deserve it. I try, I’m not proud, I try and I’m nowhere near what I want to be.. Happening fast, didn’t know what to say. I fucked up, I didn’t want it like this. It was good. He has potential. You are already there. I like his enthusiasm. The evil glint of oh the things we could do. You have it too. Deeper. And I want to say it’s not that you’re better than N. Cept you probably are. In many ways. Where’s the dilemma then? I hoard people. I want it easy. I like N. I want to know him. I want to be the girl who shows him. I want to be free. This is all so predictable. All so whiny. What will I tell everyone? What will I tell you? Him? What will I tell myself?

I keep wanting to cry all day and it’s back to wintertime here again. Wanting to get back to another time again.

Breathe.