I want your throat between my teeth again.
I can still feel my hands on your hips, tugging closer. I remember your trachea between my teeth. The rise and fall of your chest while we drunkenly slept, your arm wrapped around me.
How were you able to encourage me to come out of my shell? How did you get me to open up so easily?
This doesn’t make sense, I didn’t plan this. None of this should have happened. Had I not taken the risk, we wouldn’t have met and I wouldn’t feel the way I do, and now I’m having to put them in a box and store them away.
HOW IN THE FUCK DID SOMEONE MANAGE TO MAKE ME FEEL LIKE A HUMAN IN ONE WEEK THAN ANYONE ELSE HAS IN 21 YEARS.
Maybe my emotions aren’t quite settled.
Ok, all my emotions are settling.
I was going fucking ballistic.
That doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop. I have time. I have a decent shitty job (which I hope to quit soon). I have plenty in the bank. Next summer, I’m gonna see my new friends up North, I’m gonna go adventure, I’m gonna live the life I have yet to live cause fuck you, I can.