After sex, she told me about the first time she had sex with her last boyfriend

May 25 2011 2:29 AM

In the past few weeks I haven’t written much but the little that I have has been on my iPod. I have a newfound appreciation for technology. This I write on my iPod too.

You left minutes ago. Here, in your couch, it got colder suddenly; the hole in the blanket gradually got bigger. The sound of the rain is a constant reminder of your absence.
I have been by myself for so long, that I have run out of people to miss. Reintegrating after traveling is an absurdly neurotic and self-conscious affair. I am a bit off at everything I do. What to say? When to listen? What to pretend and where to touch?
When I have nothing to offer, you stand by my side like I am the most valuable thing in the universe. Your make my honor the basis of your dignity. It worries me that I’ll take your appreciation for granted. It worries me that I won’t invest enough. It worries me that I’ll waste everything by pressing for details by saying too much. By saying nothing at all. By being afraid of casualties.
But there is substance beyond this awkward body I carry. There are emotions that gestures can’t show. There are moments. There are memories. There is longing for warmth and loathing for discrimination. Longing for loyalty and compassion.

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