Wonder

You asked me if my feelings for you are changing. I deny that emphatically. "No!", I reply almost too hastily. Have my feelings changed? Do I still want you as feverishly as I have before? I know that part of my frustration is that I can't have you the way that I want you. I know that if I ask for more you're going to give me the "situation" and I am just not trying to hear that bullshit. When I say that I need to be with you, then I need to be with you. I don't care about your situation. I respect the shit, but I don't care. Many times lately I've thought of telling you that I'm going to see other people. Who am I going to see? No one holds a candle to you and I know that. But at the same time, I need a balance because I've put myself in this position of being in love with you and accepting whatever you give me. I can't do that anymore. But I don't want to speak idle talk. I don't want it to be a reaction-invoking speech. When I come to you, I want to come to you with certainty, with someone who is worthy of what will be the undoing of us. Am I ready? Is it time for me to let you go?

Moping

I want you to tell me it's going to be okay. I want you to hold me and tell me it's going to be okay. I want you inside of me and tell me it's going to be okay. With every stroke of your dick, my hair, your back, I'll feel that it's going to be okay. No fido, no shetlands, just the two of us rejoicing with our bodies those things we can't say in words. We merge and I become your Aphrodite and your venom all at once, afraid to say how it makes me feel for fear you'll reject me. You afraid to tell me because you fear the truth. Words not needed because we both could lose with this overload. Spontaneously, once tell me you love me so that it may carry me for a lifetime. I so crave tenderness from you. The stroke of back, the stroke of your dick, all at once, all in all, total submission to a pleasure that for others is mystical but for us....truth