Bits and pieces

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I'm feeling kind of alone right now
it's always interesting when I feel this way

because I'm not alone.


It's painful having the house to yourself
realizing it's a Friday night.
Not that I'd go out.

There is something about being wonderfully married
yet feeling alone at the same time

Not alone as in "I'm being ignored"
but alone in the sense of "this is really me"

Nothing to distract me
Nothing to entertain me
or fool with.

Just me
my computer
and whoever you all are... probably feeling the same.

And here we are
collectively alone
dealing with the same slight sadness of; "this is it... this is all"
 
I'm feeling kind of alone right now
it's always interesting when I feel this way

because I'm not alone.


It's painful having the house to yourself
realizing it's a Friday night.
Not that I'd go out.

There is something about being wonderfully married
yet feeling alone at the same time

Not alone as in "I'm being ignored"
but alone in the sense of "this is really me"

Nothing to distract me
Nothing to entertain me
or fool with.

Just me
my computer
and whoever you all are... probably feeling the same.

And here we are
collectively alone
dealing with the same slight sadness of; "this is it... this is all"

You just described pretty much EVERY friday night for me. I try to call or text some of my friends, all of whom are out having fun while I'm stuck at home. Then I get depressed cause no one wants to talk to me, and I'm stuck at home...not getting any younger either.
 
when you blow out a candle
a stream of silver white smoke
saunters upward

lyrically it twists
and dances with itself
creating beautiful waves
and ripples

it is seductive
sensual

it is alluring
inviting

it takes the form
of what you cannot see

it embodies
what embodies you

it causes you to see
what you are missing

drafts
currents of air
softly seducing
tactile things
making love to them
only for it’s own pleasure
taunting the over-heated
teasing the flesh
flowing through the hair
rustling the leaves

unseen beauty
shivers and shimmers
cradled by the extinguished flame

smoldering passions exposed
lusted to be touched
to be inhaled
and consumed by the desiring eye
 
Part II

He was good looking; normally good looking, comfortingly good looking. I hate to admit that I sorta found myself falling in love with him the first day we met. But it wasn’t like a love type of falling in love... it was darker... like I was falling into submission; and I fucking hated him for it. I still fucking hate him. We talked about things. Of course the first thing we talked about was why. To this day I don’t know why. Something inside of me hurt... emotionally... spiritually. I was depressed. I didn’t feel human. I didn’t feel significant. I felt ignored. Not just by my husband... but universally.
 
there is something about hearing everyone else living their lives when you are working, being a mother, being a wife but never a woman... and that's what I wanted to feel like again.
 
I can't say that I am going to continue on sharing this story with you all. Part of me would like too but another part of me wishes to continue working on it behind closed doors.

so I shall put a halt on it until further notice
 
He was good looking; normally good looking, comfortingly good looking. I hate to admit that I sorta found myself falling in love with him the first day we met. But it wasn’t like a love type of falling in love... it was darker... like I was falling into submission; and I fucking hated him for it. I still fucking hate him. We talked about things. Of course the first thing we talked about was why. To this day I don’t know why. Something inside of me hurt... emotionally... spiritually. I was depressed. I didn’t feel human. I didn’t feel significant. I felt ignored. Not just by my husband... but universally.


I love this. I've known this.

I'm very glad to see you posting and writing, dear Y.
 
I love watching the fabric of her panties slide down the length of her thigh.
Fabric on flesh makes a curious kind of sound
a beautiful kind of sound.

even with just the ceiling light on
her skin reflects hues of color appealing to my eye.
seeing it is like feeling it
against my cheek
my finger tips
my lips.

I like watching her

it’s like watching another couple embrace
I see it
I identify with it
it’s an exchange is between two people
speaking an intimate language
one only they know
 
I love watching the fabric of her panties slide down the length of her thigh.
Fabric on flesh makes a curious kind of sound
a beautiful kind of sound.

even with just the ceiling light on
her skin reflects hues of color appealing to my eye.
seeing it is like feeling it
against my cheek
my finger tips
my lips.

I like watching her

it’s like watching another couple embrace
I see it
I identify with it
it’s an exchange is between two people
speaking an intimate language
one only they know

Absolutely beautiful. Thank you for sharing.
 
why is it that a touch can carry so much emotion?
why is it that a thought can trigger a memory that never took place?

I remember the taste of her breath as our lips closed in on a kiss.
it was our first kiss
and it wasn't supposed to happen
though I am glad it did
in spite of the lingering emotional trail it created

I love how the trail is still there
it's grown over a bit
but you can still make it out

walking through it is a bit difficult
briers of confusion catch your clothing snagging and tearing at it
some even catch the skin
scratching at it
causing the deeper emotions to bleed through in the form of tears.

somewhere
in a parallel universe
we are together
and we are happy
life for us is good
there are no regrets or "maybe we shouldn't have" or "what ifs"
just us
my lips upon yours
your breast within my hand
my cock digging into your crotch

and we would make love
it would be violently beautiful
emotionally sadistic
it would last forever

just like the memory I carry in my heart
of the taste of your breath
when we weren't supposed to have kissed.
 
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