Oct 2013
Yes, we were drunk. Yes, I came home with you. Yes, we ******.
You put your arm around me. While we slept, your hand was right there on my leg; your naked body next to mine. The subtle touch told me you were glad that I stayed the night. It told me that you wanted me. And isn't that what we are all looking for -- to want someone and love someone and to be loved and wanted in return?
It has been a long time since I had last felt wanted like that. I'm not usually a "stay the night" kind of girl. It's better that way... safer, even. If I don't stay, there isn't time to feel wanted -- a feeling one could get used to. If I don't stay, there isn't time to get attached. Because everyone always leaves, right?
But your hand was right there on my leg. You were asleep, but your hand didn't move. It didn't move. We didn't move. We stayed in bed all day. We talked and watched Food Network. And you shared your bagel. With me. I was still wanted.
I wasn't sure that you'd call. I didn't want to get my hopes up. I didn't want them to be torn back down. You did call though. And I smiled. We exchanged some text messages over the course of a few days. We made plans for the following week.
It was different this time. We watched more Food Network, and we talked some more. The *** was still great -- mind blowing even. But this time, there was no arm around me or hand on my leg while we lay there. I stayed the night, but we just slept. Our naked bodies weren't touching... there were clothes in the way this time. We said goodnight and rolled over and went to sleep. Did you want me there? I couldn't tell. But I stayed anyway.
It was only once, but I got attached. Attached to feeling wanted and loved. Without the subtle touch letting me know you're there, the old insecurities set in. I want to run. Run away before I get left behind. Because I will get left behind.. that's how it always happens. I want to run for miles until the emotions go away and I no longer want you. But the emotions are there; I let my guard down and they took over. I just want to be wanted by you. By someone.
You put your arm around me. While we slept, your hand was right there on my leg; your naked body next to mine. The subtle touch told me you were glad that I stayed the night. It told me that you wanted me. And isn't that what we are all looking for -- to want someone and love someone and to be loved and wanted in return?
It has been a long time since I had last felt wanted like that. I'm not usually a "stay the night" kind of girl. It's better that way... safer, even. If I don't stay, there isn't time to feel wanted -- a feeling one could get used to. If I don't stay, there isn't time to get attached. Because everyone always leaves, right?
But your hand was right there on my leg. You were asleep, but your hand didn't move. It didn't move. We didn't move. We stayed in bed all day. We talked and watched Food Network. And you shared your bagel. With me. I was still wanted.
I wasn't sure that you'd call. I didn't want to get my hopes up. I didn't want them to be torn back down. You did call though. And I smiled. We exchanged some text messages over the course of a few days. We made plans for the following week.
It was different this time. We watched more Food Network, and we talked some more. The *** was still great -- mind blowing even. But this time, there was no arm around me or hand on my leg while we lay there. I stayed the night, but we just slept. Our naked bodies weren't touching... there were clothes in the way this time. We said goodnight and rolled over and went to sleep. Did you want me there? I couldn't tell. But I stayed anyway.
It was only once, but I got attached. Attached to feeling wanted and loved. Without the subtle touch letting me know you're there, the old insecurities set in. I want to run. Run away before I get left behind. Because I will get left behind.. that's how it always happens. I want to run for miles until the emotions go away and I no longer want you. But the emotions are there; I let my guard down and they took over. I just want to be wanted by you. By someone.
Meant to be read aloud -- there's a better flow. I supposes its arguable whether its poetry or not. You can be the judge.
(25/F/Washington, DC)
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