You were never really my “boyfriend.”
We were never official, but I saw you every week. We painted rocks, did puzzles, kept each other company on slow nights at work…kissed me after I told you that I loved you.
Sometimes I wonder if I ever truly loved you or were you just great with your mouth. And I don’t mean speaking because you couldn’t speak to save your life. Luckily, I haven’t learned how to shut up yet, so I was always able to fill the silence.
I remember longingly staring at you while we kissed. In those moments it felt like my soul intertwined with yours and I’d wonder if you felt it too…felt connected in some sort of way or was that just me being a girl.
A girl who wants to be sappy and assumes sex means love, but now after a year of celibacy I long to be touched but can’t even imagine anyone slightly rubbing up against me. It’s like I have a newly gain aversion to physical touch.
What do people even learn in celibacy anyway, except how horny one can become? Horny, but not willing to be touched by a random man for just one night. Which then in return makes me lonely…the bed I used to share with countless men on different nights is suddenly empty.
I can the feel the emptiness…not only in my bed, but also inside myself (pun intended).