A Fresh Start

Chapter 30-Thanksgiving 2015

TK

"Fuck! I love thanksgiving break. My parents don't take a lot of time off for it, so I get the house to myself most of the week," yawns Mitchell in my ear.

We're both sweaty from the afternoon sex that happened while pretending to watch Anchorman.

"We should finish the movie. I have to get home soon," I say and rub my wrists. Mitchell likes to get rough when we have sex. It was interesting at first, but a month later, it's lost its appeal as the bruises aren't getting better. I told him I don't like getting slapped, but he just laughed and said it was his thing. He promised to be gentle when he did it. I Still don't like it, but I think me fighting back gets him fired up even more.

It's at this moment that I'm stretching out my sore chest and abs that he starts kissing me again, "one more for the road?" He asks, and I shake my head, "please TK for me. Think about the pilgrims and stuff. It's the spirit of the season to be giving."

"Wow. You really reached for that one," I say, standing up, but he's holding my hand, so I can't get far.

"I want what I want. I'm not ashamed. I can't see you the rest of the week anyway. So you need to make it up to me," he says.

"Your family's going to the mountains, not mine," I say and start to pull away, but he clamps down on my wrist.

"That's not my fault," he snaps, and then he smiles. "Come on. Let me make it up to you then."

I really don't want to. I really don't have to, but something in the back of my head says this is what I wanted. I wanted sex. I wanted something low-key. That's the same voice that tells me I deserve everything that comes my way. It's a voice my therapist and I have been working to ignore, but it turns out it's harder than we thought. I nod, and he pulls me back into bed. Probably harder than he meant to.

He's always doing something harder than he means too and he's always sorry. I even believe him sometimes, but I don't need to trust him to not hurt me. I'm not in love with the guy. It's just sex, and sex doesn't hurt anyone.

I know I'm lying to myself on that last one. Sex with Mitchell is fast and fun. He knows how to get himself to the finish line, and I'm part of that equation each time. Even if I don't get the finish line myself.

This is one of those times he doesn't even try to get me close to the finish line. I'm squinting through the pain as he has his fun, but something snaps, and I think it's a literal snap from the pain I'm feeling. I have never felt this much pain from sex before. I can't handle it anymore; I need to stop this. That's when I push against him to slow his pace.

"Mitch!!! Stop. I can't," I murmur and push him harder in the chest.

"TK, stop it. I'm almost done," he snaps and then grabs my wrist and holds it down. "Just let me finish, ok."

It's not ok. It's hurting a lot more than Normal. He positions himself to finish up, and within five minutes, he's done. I feel gross on so many levels, and I'm honestly in so much pain right now that I want to cry.

He pulls out, and I'm quick to get up and run to the bathroom to clean up. Sex is gross on another level with him, the lube he likes is low-grade quality, and it doesn't help me a lot. I shower off and make sure I'm clean downstairs. Ryan and I had a few surprises, but I pride myself on knowing my body to allow this to not happen. I look at my feet as the water flows down my back, and even without my glasses, I can see some red. At least he's gone for a couple of days. So I can heal up.

I miss Ryan.

I know I shouldn't think about Ryan. We broke up, He hurt me, but He still cares about me. But he isn't my boyfriend anymore.