Craving your touch so bad I found a stranger and asked them for it desperately. Now a stranger’s touch left me feeling disgusted, making it clear it couldn’t make up for yours. I feel it on my skin but it’s too shallow. Yours goes straight to my soul, because I submissively lay it down for you to pat.  Almost like a dog getting its belly rubbed, I crave it even more.  A new acquaintance’s touch feels like a bug crawling on my skin. I feel irritated, uneasy, disgusted. Then the thoughts of your touch relieves me of all these negative feelings. I’ll tell you a secret I’m ashamed to say it out, i’ll opt to whisper instead:

sometimes i fantasize about you when I’m having a one night stand. their touch attempts to replicate yours, in my head anyway. but the sex isn’t nearly as good or the dirty whispers, they feel forced and unauthentic. as soon as i open my eyes, it gives them away. at this point i can’t wait to cum. once i do i take a shower and text you afterwards. you reply and it becomes clear, it wasn’t you. it fucking breaks my heart.  i know you don’t mind me fucking other people to get off but i mind. i never feel satisfied, the body and soul knows what it wants. i end up feeling like i wasted my energy. instead of satisfaction, i feel emptiness. the ones i connect with are either out of my reach or so close yet so far. sometimes their forehead isn’t big enough. the funny thing is, your isn’t, it’s okay. i’m expressing a lot than more than  i planned to. i’ve been whispering because i feel these words hold weight. they shouldn’t be said with confidence because that might give real meaning to them. i don’t want to have to come to terms with half the things i’ve just expressed. 

No, fuck it! I’ll say it out loud this minute, I miss you and not only do I miss you. I miss the conversations we had, talking about everything but it was never surface level. We could dig deep, express our deepest sentiments, it didn’t matter what the topic was. I miss the never ending sex sessions that leaves both of us drenched in our sweat in a fully air conditioned room. The days we both passed out but weren’t too tired to cuddle each other to sleep. I miss the freedom we both shared. I miss the atmosphere when we were in a room together. I miss the way you say my name, I still hear it sometimes and it is just as beautiful. I miss the suspense I felt whenever you were coming over. I knew there was an aura coming along with you, with a conversation that leaves us both mentally stimulated ending in rigorously beautiful sex that leaves you shaking, saying my name while breaking between syllables. In those moments of pleasure we are tone deaf to our loud moans that occupied the house. I miss giving you a massage afterwards because I feel guilty for overworking your muscles. I miss dropping you off at night and watching you go in your house when I really wanted to see you beside me when I open my eyes in the morning. All I’m saying is I miss you, it took me a lot to get to say this. I focused on the other things but here I am saying it. I really do miss you! Hang in there, don’t let the thoughts ruin you, it might sound a bit selfish but if it does then it ruins my thoughts as well because you’re all up in my head. If I can’t think of you positively then my whole thought process becomes corrupt. Let’s not give the mind’s Trojan horse a chance to disperse its soldiers of anxiety, sleeplessness and hopelessness. I’ll hold you again soon, then it will be worth the wait, I promise you.

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