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Last week had been
the realization that he wasn't tapping on that window.
she wasn't rising from her supine position to eagerly let in a lover she loved
ever again.
if you wanted something to get her going, that would be it.
She had been in stunned submission all week and weekend and really for a week - ever since the pink party.
how hostilely sad to get what you want with someone else
while they don't get what they want with you.
it was wonderful being worship touched. that was very nice.
it was terrible that it wasn't him.
the grass was pretty long after its inaugural cut. she had wasted so much PTO just in thinking about you.
Last night, she had had a panic attack coming on, but she recognized it well and did a Benadryl.
she was getting better at numb.
but still she woke up and had to remind herself the death - and her biggest most triggering nightmare: she comes
across him twenty years or thirty in an Athens nursing him. It still smells of pee but not so much. He shakes his head and makes a joke and says my name and asked how I got past the list.
she is indignant and weird. how dare he.
he glances at her briefly, "nah, you were the one I thought of all the time. I wish I had had the balls to just try, but it wouldn't have worked out."
"you've killed me."
"I know."
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