1973

It’s hard to even know what to say about you, I told myself it was over and yet I’ll be seeing you tomorrow. I’m sure Linda will be disappointed maybe just worried, scared I’ll take myself down a road that will end with the destruction of my life as we see it now. So why wasn't I scared of the same outcome? Maybe because in my head it doesn’t feel like I have much to lose even when people tell me I have so much to lose, I know they are partly right my teeth or my hair, my pretty body that they all obsess over. But that doesn’t scare me because I love you.  I’m not sure what kind of twisted love I have for you but there is a rose blooming in a garden of thorns. Sometimes I only think you want me for my body but then I think how dick-motivated I am as a person and I can’t blame you. The confidence you have how causal you are after everything we go through, how crazy I become yet everyweek you say to me “I’ll see you Wednesday” not as a question nor a demand just as a statement. Can’t get you out of my mind yet I only ever feel partly with you, maybe only even ten percent of me is there. So conflicted, one minute I want you I can’t get enough of you, the next I fight wanting to see you. I tatted your birth year on my body, I call you daddy but you aren’t my father. You said you loved me for the second time, was it only the lines of cokes and the fact I gave you a feeling you’ve never felt before. You chalked it up to love because the english language is so limited with its expression of the word love. I’m just a wanna be and I am everything you want me to be you want me as yours but you won’t ever make me yours. So what does that make me? More then a mistress yet I can only ever have your nights, only around when you’re drunk and horny. But when you call you call for me and only me and it leaves me lost in a feeling of being wanted and needed. Lost in your arms when you cuddle me to sleep until you wake me up in the morning inside of me and I’m reminded of my purpose, a task I am meant to fulfill for you. The ability to give you a glimpse at every fantasy you’ve been dreaming of since the moment your balls dropped and testosterone entered your body and the lust of your desires took control of you, is that ever enough? A fantasy is a fantasy for a reason “A fanciful mental image, typically one on which a person dwells on repeatedly and which reflects their conscious or unconscious wishes.” and at the same time “The activity of imagining things, especially things that are impossible or improbable.” So that’s what i’ll always be an impossible idea you dwell on repeatedly made up of all the thoughts swimming in your consciousness.