I’m not sure why it felt so good and I never knew it would stick with me.
I was too young and you were much older of all of our friends and we were so close.
For the 15 years of my life I assumed I was straight. Besides I always craved the opposite.
Eventually you got me alone. You swindled me into trying things and I was always uneasy of how it felt but I was kind of curious I guess.
Until one time I had submitted to you entirely and I never felt so perfect.
Nothing felt so good. Not even the peak of euphoria. Just letting go felt so deep, being the object of satisfaction felt so natural and the final gift felt like eternity.
But why? Now I’m confused later in life more than ever. I still crave the common ground but the memories still elevate me, and it is because of you.
Sometimes I seek floating adrift far from responsibility longing for the erotic touch of these memories left stained in my dreams.
Sometimes I find myself alone wondering if I am lying to myself about the reflection in puddles or if I am as empty as a broken home.
Maybe Im cloaked in a shell crafted from beautiful pain and trauma.
Maybe, maybe… I remember a time when I knew who I really was. Well at least at one point I believed in me and now? I’m not sure why this feels so good.
And it’s been too long since Ive called into bliss, or is it hell?
For this you have created for me.
Or have I been the monster all along?