Posts tagged thoughts
he has me hemmed up beside my car. i don’t have enough space to slide away from him without us touching, that’s what he’s after. call me when you leave his place he whispers. i smirk; i tell him no.
it’s been so long. he’s inching even closer to me, breathing on me. that used to do something for me — to me. no longer. he doesn’t see how pathetic he is to me now, this man that i used to love.
his left hand is against the hood, beside my head. i tap him on his wedding band. i have tried over the years to get across just how over him i am, how over me he needs to be. he doesn’t get it.
i’m done, i say. i shove him away, harder than i meant to, and get into my car. i drive away with him standing there, that pitiful longing look on his face.
fuck off i mumble as i turn up the stereo, not to him, but to the old me that i no longer understand. the one that would have melted for that douche.
because when I don’t have work to do or classes to take I lie around naked watching silent films on Netflix instant, eating Tostitos and drinking ginger ale. or dance around in pajamas to music made before i was born, sucking chocolate off of my fingertips. either way, i need a man that can find the beauty in it.
don’t try to prop me up in pumps and drag me out through cigarette clouds. i’m happy where i am, today.
take your clothes off; get comfortable with me.
because there is only so close i’ll allow myself to get before i panic
before i’m too close for my own comfort
and i back away. turn and run.
is there anything more terrifying than intimacy?
relinquishing power over your heart is…
brave.
more brave than i am able to be.
I love men. I mean, I really love men. I love the way they smell, I love the way they taste. I love the veins in their forearms and the hair on their chests. I love the feel of their scruffy faces and lightly calloused hands against yours. I love the dimples in their backs, the muscles bustling under the skin. I love their tattoos and their freckles and their scars. I love their height and their strength. I love the V’s on their hips and the slight in their steps. I love their deep, gravelly voices and their stubbornness. I love the way they look in three piece suits, I love them in jeans and t-shirts. I love when they feel like naked means everything but their socks, and I love when those smiles tickle the corners of their mouths because they’re thinking about someone they love. I love how their jaws clench when they’re trying to suppress their rage. I love it when they lift you off your feet in a hug, when they nibble on the nape of your neck. I love their scrappiness, their softness, their unpredictability and their stability. I love when they play video games; when they read books; when they play basketball; when they answer your phone call with “hey, babe”; when they pet their cats; when they talk to their dogs in high pitched voices; when they hold babies; and when they sit on the other end of the couch with your feet in their lap and tickle your soles every time you let your guard down. I love their loyalty. I love their differences and similarities. I love that there are good ones and ‘bad’ ones and in between ones and that finding the right one for you can be a struggle but is usually damn well worth it in the end.
I just really love them, and I felt like saying so. So I did.
