Tuesday, November 15, 2005
misty water-colored memories
Mr. Wrong.
I'm lusting after him again. I was looking at him yesterday thinking what an absolutely beautiful specimen he is. While I may be ever-so-slightly clouded by the fact that I lost my virginity to him, it cannot be denied that, well, he's pretty.
Last night right before I was going to sleep, I couldn't stop thinking about the last time we had sex. First thing in the morning nookie- initiated by him. I don't know that I've ever enjoyed waking up more. I was remembering how the night previous, I had told him not to even try to take my shirt off, cause it's delicate and he's, well, not. So I stood with my back to him, and pulled off the shirt, oh so carefully, and turned around as I was pulling it over my head and he stood there- transfixed- staring at me, and how, as I started to unbutton my pants he was across the room in a flash to give me a hand. And how he made me tell him that I was in love with him before he would have sex with me.
Despite everything- I cherish these memories.
He's not my boyfriend. He never will be.
But occasionally he makes me feel like the most treasured woman alive.
I'm lusting after him again. I was looking at him yesterday thinking what an absolutely beautiful specimen he is. While I may be ever-so-slightly clouded by the fact that I lost my virginity to him, it cannot be denied that, well, he's pretty.
Last night right before I was going to sleep, I couldn't stop thinking about the last time we had sex. First thing in the morning nookie- initiated by him. I don't know that I've ever enjoyed waking up more. I was remembering how the night previous, I had told him not to even try to take my shirt off, cause it's delicate and he's, well, not. So I stood with my back to him, and pulled off the shirt, oh so carefully, and turned around as I was pulling it over my head and he stood there- transfixed- staring at me, and how, as I started to unbutton my pants he was across the room in a flash to give me a hand. And how he made me tell him that I was in love with him before he would have sex with me.
Despite everything- I cherish these memories.
He's not my boyfriend. He never will be.
But occasionally he makes me feel like the most treasured woman alive.
Labels: Mr. Wrong
