The topic of sex clouds over me every day like a heavy fog.
Who am I having sex with?
Who am I avoiding having sex with?
Do I want to have sex?
Is he trying to have sex with me?
How long can I avoid having sex with him before he loses interest?
Do you remember that tremble deep down when you were being kissed and your bodies got close? I remember it but it is so rare that I can feel it.
Do you remember the heat that would rise when you were young and hot?
I can still smell my vagina on my fingers, and feel the tears on my face. Taste the salt on my lips.
I can't orgasm anymore without crying, or at least feeling my heart race to the point where it feels like I might have a panic attack.
It's as if the last three years have finally caught up to me.
I always thought that I could be the type of person to stuff my emotions away, and I do. I do it very well.
But every time I'm reminded of how it feels to feel good I just end up feeling bad.
I don't think I have sex just for myself or for pleasure or for fun anymore. I do it because I don't want to be alone, or I'm afraid to disappoint them. I sleep with men because I hope that they'll give me a better tomorrow. I feel guilty like I have to. Where does this guilt come from?
I can't remember the last time I felt the desire to be held.
I can't remember the last time I felt the need to emotionally connect to another person.
Can you remind me what feeling held and not wanting to run away feels like?
I do not trust the people I share my body with because I only share little lies about myself with them because I don’t want them to judge me. How can a liar trust anyone else? How did I become this girl?
The truth, I just feel sick saying it out loud. So I don’t.
I feel like I'm stuck on an island and I'm surrounded by people; people that are really good at telling you what you want to hear make me feel really good for a time. But they all have other motives.
But I wonder, what if it's not the island I'm on. What if it's the whole world and everybody has some sort of other motivation and they always have and I just never saw it before.
Perhaps that great love that I keep in my memories was never that great. Maybe he had a motive too.
I feel like I'm stuck in this nightmare and a big part of me wants to wake up and another part of me doesn't.
I don't know if leaving the city will make it better and I don't know if trying harder at work will make it better, all I know is that I walk around all the time with this gut feeling and it hurts all of the time.
I never would've thought that I would've cared about the things that I care about.
I never thought that I would become the person that I am.
I feel so little these days and yet everything all at once.
I've become someone who is inconsiderate of other people and their feelings because I feel like no one is considerate of mine.
Is Manhattan the problem? Are the men in Manhattan the problem? Am I the problem? Was there ever a problem or am I just too sensitive?