Laying in Bed With Someone.

He was surprised i let him hold me. Even more surprised that i asked him to. He said i didn’t give off the impression that i would want to be held. And if i had wanted to- that i would never allow for it. i had always thought that i had come off as beautiful. When in reality- i come off cold, distant, and disdainful. And this- after years of therapy.

            He was surprised i didn’t let go. That i coaxed minutes out of him as the time slipped by. i knew he took it personally. i just didn’t care. He thought i was grabbing onto him on my last day in New York City. And i knew that made him feel superior, controlling, and entitled. But he had nothing to do with it at all. i felt like a prisoner on death row. Slowly savoring my last bite of my last meal before the switch is thrown down. Even right there- right then in his arm i knew it was slipping from me. i would have to hoard this feeling and hold on like hell. i felt like a squirrel in winter, a rich bitch scrapping everything off the clearance rack. i knew i would have to hold on to all of it. As i lay there in his body, kissing the spot where the shoulder becomes the arm i felt more separate from him than anytime before. When he was inside me, when i pulled the pillow to my face hiding my tears, when i yelled for him to go faster and harder- knowing that would make it end sooner. Knowing he thought he was fucking me right- i just didn’t care. As i clung to his body while silently hating him i soaked up every moment of human contact knowing that it would be a long time. It would be a long time until someone held me again, held my hand, or touched me by anything but accident.

            i don’t know what that must have done to him and how many break up lines and just friends scenarios played over in his mind. And to be honest- i didn’t care. I still don’t now. To be honest- his body made me want to vomit. The way he talked about his dick and the places he wanted to put it was laughable. And as i listened to his meager sex stories and single digit girls he fucked, it took all of my strength to not laugh. Because if he knew who he was really dealing with, he would crumble. But at least it was human contact.

            i just felt the weight of his arms around me and tried to drown out the sounds of his shocked words and my allowance of his hands on my waist. I soaked in every second of a man lying next to me naked. And then i had to leave.

            Later that evening i sat on my balcony in another city and looked across the courtyard. In an apartment a few floors up and down the hall lives a blonde couple always seeming to fall in love the instant i look over. As she stood in front of him wearing his t shirt as a night gown his arms went to her shoulders as they watched what they were watching. And i thought of my morning and their present moment and understood the sheer opposite of existence between that girl and me. I felt so far away. Far away from love, from myself, from anything real. i felt far away from him, farther than i felt that morning when he was breathing on me. Farther than what i had been reaching for all along. i hated silently. But loud enough for my heart to hear and long enough for my soul to split. Loud enough to give myself a headache and long enough for me to remember it now.