I know it may appear like I love sex and I’m insatiable. Like all I want to do when I’m with you is get you in bed with me and spend all day there. The reason’s I love sex are not what you think. I haven’t even been able to orgasm during sex with you for months and it’s a rare occurrence anyways.
No, I love sex because it means that you touch me. You put your hands all over me and hold me close. You actually look at me and for that brief moment there is nothing else in your life aside from me. For that brief moment I feel like you might actually care about me. And then we part and instead of caressing me and whispering sweet nothings you roll over or move away so we’re not touching anymore. It breaks my heart when all I want is for you to touch me, hold me close and make me feel safe. It’s even worse when you wait a minute and then run off downstairs for a smoke, or to make a phone call or to get ready to go out to where ever you have to go.
I just want five minutes of your life so that I feel reassured. That I don’t feel like I’m being used even if you are my boyfriend. On the worst of days I fall asleep beside you in tears or cry in the car on my way home. On the best of days I feel hollow and alone. I hate feeling like my desires are unreasonable and that because I want to be close to you I’m an attention whore. I hate feeling like I have to beg for your attention. I hate being rebuffed. I hate feeling like I need to try harder and maybe you’ll eventually respond in kind. I hate feeling like I never have your undivided attention.
I hate how you laughed in my face and expressed supreme doubt when I said that sometimes all I want is to be held. If you wonder why I can’t ever seem to be able to talk to you. If you ever wonder why I’m sad. If you ever wonder why I look at you like that, with the serious face and deep in though. It’s because I just want to be held without sex clouding everything. For once I want to feel like you can’t get enough of me and just want to be near me; that you crave my touch as much as I yearn for yours. I want to feel like you want me.
No, I love sex because it means that you touch me. You put your hands all over me and hold me close. You actually look at me and for that brief moment there is nothing else in your life aside from me. For that brief moment I feel like you might actually care about me. And then we part and instead of caressing me and whispering sweet nothings you roll over or move away so we’re not touching anymore. It breaks my heart when all I want is for you to touch me, hold me close and make me feel safe. It’s even worse when you wait a minute and then run off downstairs for a smoke, or to make a phone call or to get ready to go out to where ever you have to go.
I just want five minutes of your life so that I feel reassured. That I don’t feel like I’m being used even if you are my boyfriend. On the worst of days I fall asleep beside you in tears or cry in the car on my way home. On the best of days I feel hollow and alone. I hate feeling like my desires are unreasonable and that because I want to be close to you I’m an attention whore. I hate feeling like I have to beg for your attention. I hate being rebuffed. I hate feeling like I need to try harder and maybe you’ll eventually respond in kind. I hate feeling like I never have your undivided attention.
I hate how you laughed in my face and expressed supreme doubt when I said that sometimes all I want is to be held. If you wonder why I can’t ever seem to be able to talk to you. If you ever wonder why I’m sad. If you ever wonder why I look at you like that, with the serious face and deep in though. It’s because I just want to be held without sex clouding everything. For once I want to feel like you can’t get enough of me and just want to be near me; that you crave my touch as much as I yearn for yours. I want to feel like you want me.
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