As a 23 year old grad school student, I spend a lot of time writing academically. Now I’m taking time to write creatively and enjoy creating stories about whatever makes me happy.
Follow my journey on instagram too: @nani.cruz.writes
Another paper, another orgasm
Another paper, another orgasm. The first week of the semester is always a joke. Well, unless you get hit with a brand-new professor who is completely scatterbrained and has no flow in the course layout…at all. In my last semester of traditional classes, this is the last thing I need. Thankfully I have a great sounding board who listens to me vent about dumb due date patterns and last-minute changes to project requirements. As I move into week three, the course load and stress are starting to pile up. Queue the super supportive boyfriend (aka great sounding board) who is always willing to help in any way he can, which includes tension releasing orgasms during study breaks.
Tart, but sweet. The sticky, potent liquid covered her entire body. The smell overpowered any of her other senses. It was cold and dripped lower down her body. The longer she sat in it, the colder she seemed to feel. From her hair, it saturated her clothing and her seat. No part of her or the seat was untouched by it. The sour substance was all she could focus on. The sensation of cold created a deep numbness, but it was faint in comparison to the numbness she was used to. It was the sweet and sour smell that took the reins on her senses. All she could focus on was the smell of the lemonade coating her and the interior of the car.
Adults Don't Heal Any Faster
From the eyes of a child, it is easy to look at the adults around you in the midst of tragedy and think "they've got this handled." Over the years I have learned this to be extremely untrue. If anything, adults feels things worse. More intensely and more intricately. There are factors that weigh on adults that many children may not even consider.
Dear future lover, please love me like...
Dear future lover, please love me like my sister and I love one another. Love me like my sister loves me when she asks me to let her know when I arrive somewhere safely. With a thoughtfulness that reminds you of me when you see my favorite character on a t-shirt. Love me with an understanding to know when I am ready to talk, and when to leave me be until I can piece together my words. Love me with a sense of admiration that’s not afraid to tell me when I’m wrong. Love me like my sister who runs to me to tell me about her good days, but also entrusts me as the only person to show the darkest parts to. I desire a love that knows the way I think and process, but more importantly respects it.
Be Present for Yourself to Be the Best "You" Yet
Be present. Be present. Be present. These words came over me in a way I have never experienced before. They are broad, yet impactful. Hearing these words in my mind brought a sense of peace. A sense that is right. That it needs to be my driving force. My theme of this year. But why? It required me to step back to understand why two simple words made me feel so strongly. It wasn't apparent at first. There was a reason this was grabbing onto my heart, and I needed to figure out why.
I wonder what it would feel like to share my insecurities in my relationship and not have it end with being screamed at. Having a boyfriend with a mental illness is no easy task. Carina knew this from plenty of experience. Take her first boyfriend for example. Some could blame immaturity, but from the inside she could see the instability and manipulation.
Redemption After Cheating
I got cheated on a month into dating my boyfriend. And I took him back. Before this, I had never been cheated on or broken up with. That night, both happened to me and I found out through a phone call. There have been but a handful of times in my life where I felt emotional pain in such a physical way that it hurt to breathe. This was one of those nights. A sensation of shock and numbness overcame me to the point that the only thing I could say back was “okay, bye.”