Wanted

Your emotions. My emotions. It’s fucking up my spirit, and I feel like a loose canon. This again. This wretched ride again. Luckily, it’s only for a few moments. Luckily, I’m older now.

I’ve done this before.

I’ve felt like this before.

And like the before that I’ve done, and the before that I felt, this kind of thing has ended before.

No offense, I like it. No offense, it was invigorating, good, and warmer than any touch I’ve felt in a long while. God, it felt like everything I wanted, and more.

Goes to show just how needy I’ve become.

Goes to show how far I’ve come.

Face it, you did a terrible thing to me. You made me feel secure, and wanted. You made me feel everything that’s been missing from him and me for the past 2 years.

You made me feel wanted. Who would’ve thought I’d be missing that feeling?

Surely not me!

Because I love boys who treat me like an option. I love boys who make me cry, and never make an effort to ease my fears. I love having my leash pulled. I love being pushed away. I love how they pull me back in just when I decide to leave. I love how he made me feel like the biggest mistake he ever made in his whole life. I love how he made me it a point to let me know that I’m a person to be tolerated, rather than loved.

So yes, you wanting to spend time with me was unexpected. Your hand on my back when I screamed at a fictional character for being so mean, and inconsiderate… was jarring. That touch on my knee when you asked if I was hungry, was maddeningly unexpected.

When you opened your comforter so I could slip in, my heart breathed shallow breaths.

Maddeningly sweet.

I didn’t think I’d miss the feeling of being wanted.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s