Remember that time you fell in lust with blue eyes?
You thought you understood what those blue eyes meant. You followed him to his favourite bar and eye fucked him all night. Remember that feeling? The feeling of being wanted.
The anticipation of the touch was better than the touch itself. He licked his lips, and you nodded your head. You followed him home.
Like a pet. Like a dog.
Do you remember that?
You thought you had won.
You pet.
Those blue eyes. They watch you strip while he backhand insults you, all the way to the couch. What was that feeling again?
Of recognizing something else inside of you. Something raging, something shameful. But you just sit there instead.
Waiting to be touched. The shame you’ve learned to suffocate under an ocean of alcohol starts bubbling out. The only way to fix it is to make out.
A 3 am couch fuck.That’s all.He tells you the bed is off limits because he respects his ex-girlfriend. They still live together.He hands you a tissue and gropes you to the door. Outside, you notice that the sun is out.
Do you remember that?
Because it happened to me too.


Naomi Loud

Writer from Montreal, Qc. Currently working on my first memoir "Hello from Bordeaux"

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