(warning: sexual content may offend some viewers)
Isn’t it weird having a crush. The way your focus becomes so intensified. You notice every glance, every smile… every word becomes heavy with meaning. Suddenly you are acutely aware of the way his leg presses against yours in the next seat, or his hand brushes your shoulder as he passes by. It’s like a secret language: Surely he must notice the touches, the heat of limb against limb. Surely he must feel the connection. At night the city lights seem brighter just knowing that one of them shines from his street, his house, his window…
God I’m cheesy!
I just love being in crush…
As long as there’s little chance of anything happening.
Intimacy.
I don’t want that.
I want a quick shag with my skirt up and my knickers around my knees, over before I have a chance to feel vulnerable… I want to be tied down and beaten. I want pain. I understand pain.
Yes boy, I want you to kiss me, touch me, use me, screw me… I want you to slap me across the face as hard as you can. I want you to caress me with a cold blade and draw red tears from my back.
And then I want you to leave me.
Alone.
If you like pain, you really should have dated me for longer... except that, you know, I actually love you and stuff, so the leaving you alone would always have been too hard.
There's this really interesting quality about externalising pain. It gives it shape and substance.
Posted by: .carla at September 25, 2003 08:22 PM