It was just a spur of the moment thing. I was dancing, you were dancing, we danced together. Then we started making out and getting a little friskier with our dance moves. They told us to leave, they wanted to close. But we were still there, on the dance floor, trying to figure out what just happened and what to do next. We went to go eat at one of those spur of the moment places, our friends in the front of the car chatting away as we started messing around in the back. You lightly kissing my neck, biting my ear, gently fondling my breast. Making your way to my lips every now and then giving each other a long, hard kiss. Trading smart ass remarks and sharp comments back and forth while we ate. Giving each other that look people would say only people in love gave. But we weren’t. We had just met hours before.

Driving back we started playing with each other again, making the other crazy, telling the other they “better stop” and laughing after. Exchanging numbers, we kissed for a while, not knowing when the next time we would see the other, if we even were going to see the other again. Constantly texting each other for the next week we made each other laugh, smile, feel like we were flying over the seven oceans. During the movie you acted nervous, like you weren’t sure if you were supposed to be there or not. But you were, and I slipped my hand in yours and lean in closer as you rested your head upon mine kissing the top of my head.

Back in my room we all talked about how great it was and how we’d definitely go see it again. All of us cramped up on my bed as we watched another movie, but you and I just teased one another back and forth. You’d kiss my neck, I’d bite your ear, lightly lick your jaw line. Telling me to stop unless I plan on following through as I laugh like a kid being tickled to death. But I wouldn’t stop. And you’d get more and more antsy with each kiss, hot breath, nibble. You said I was too scared to follow through, that I was all talk and no bark like I had told you just hours before. “Fine”, I say and get up, grabbing my key and making my way to the showers.

Water runs down our bodies as we stand there looking at one another with that same look we did that one night. The love we make seems like it last forever. Kisses here, biting there, putting our hands, well, everywhere. Rough, but in a good way, we fuck. Giving each other that look, that damned look just like before. We make our way back into my room and you steal a chair, offering your lap as my chariot.

I wake up and you’re gone. I was told that I fell asleep on you, and that you laid with me for awhile until you had to go. Remembering vaguely you whispering in my ear “I’ll be back…”. I apologize but you just laugh and say it was fine, say that you had fun, and you’ll see me soon. Waiting. That’s what I do as you shut the world out for a while to deal with a personal matter. I constantly send words of hope, words of love, words to make you smile and laugh; and you do. Begging you to come so I can help you forget the shit you’ve gone through, to remind you that I’ll always be there. But you don’t. You say you can’t. You can’t.

I hit you sideways with the truth a few days later, asking if all you saw me as was one of your sex toys that you told me before was the way how you have always been used. You tell the truth. Saying that I was at first but then thought of me as a pretty great person, always making you laugh and smile and always being super nice. But you don’t want to be in in a relationship. No, you CAN’T. Not with all of the things you have to put up with right now. And the “distance” between us makes it even harder. But you still want to be friends, you still want to talk, you still would like to hang out if you ever have a chance. You still want sex and nudes. Sex and nudes.

I swore I wouldn’t fall back into that pit again. I swore on my grave I wouldn’t go through that hell again. I wasn’t going to be with someone like that if they weren’t interested in the intimacy behind it. You were okay with that. Here we are though, right back to where we were. Talking dirty, “threatening” naughty things on one another, turning each other on. And I’m left here wondering if you meant what you said. Did you just say that to end the conversation? Did you just say that because you knew I couldn’t resist? Or did you actually mean it and you’ve changed your mind but are too prideful to say so? Or am I just another pawn in one of your games?