Alone [manxman]

one:: when you get laid.

SURPRISE; ALSO NON-PAULIAN SEX SCENE WARNING.

[Wren; Brakelights by Omar Apollo]

ONE: when you get laid.

They say regret is the most devastating form of self-punishment. Funny how I actively chose not to punish myself physically, only for my self-conscious to consistently put in the work.

It'd been about five months since Paul and I officially broke up and it would still weigh heavy on me even despite how cordial the breakup was. Every single brush of a hand against mine or a laugh in the distance that sounded so much like his, my throat would close up and tears would rush to my eyes a second later when I remembered that it couldn't be him. With that realization came loneliness and the loneliness would be companioned by guilt so being alone for too long would often lead to a breakdown. The scene would shift around in my head consistently and everything Paul and I ever said, everything I didn't get the chance to say, would hit me in the gut.

The first mistake that would surface behind my skull would be the lack of expression I'd given towards the end of our relationship. I hadn't told Paul I loved him in weeks leading up to the breakup, not of my own accord at least. The times I'd say it was in reciprocation: he would say it on FaceTime with a smile and a few times I hadn't heard him but when I did, my chest ran warm and my skin developed goosebumps. The problem was that I would too often forget how amazing those words made him feel, how secure just that could make us and I didn't put in the effort.

I didn't put in a lot of effort, maybe that was why he decided that we weren't good, we weren't pure anymore. We weren't healthy anymore nor normal and most of that was my fault. I could've done more; I should've done more especially towards the end.

"Chill out, honey, I'm not gonna disappear," the small boy underneath me had laughed, hands slowing mine down as they were about to tug his shirt off and throw it elsewhere. I didn't like talking during sex anymore, I didn't like the emotional connection nor was I up for exploring each other's bodies. I wasn't really up for exploring anyone since him.

This would be where more regret would take residence inside of me, I'd feel bad for essentially using sex as a coping mechanism, at least that's what a self-diagnosis off WebMD said. I hadn't been to therapy in well over three months but luckily -due to my constant lies about my health- I'd been able to refill my pills whenever needed. I wasn't in the danger zone anymore according to Dr. Lueeth.

My lips were kissing along the collarbones of the boy underneath me, hoping he'd like that and maybe I'd be able to pretend that everything was okay. My mind always strayed to Paul and even subconsciously, I'd try to find similarities so I felt a bit better about thinking of him. This guy looked like him. He slowed me down like him.

But he didn't talk like Paul, didn't have any accent. His lips were too pink, eyes too green and skin too pale. He was too skinny as well, a twink as many would say and he wore outfits that, unlike Paul's, were a bit on the feminine side. He was cute but...

Overall, I wasn't attracted to him, redeeming qualities being the fact that he had curls similar to those I liked -although they were more copper than black and didn't feel exactly the same; his curls were way too loose, they were great for gripping though. He had a nice little arch in his back that was obscene, and he had a cute little ass that I wouldn't mind fucking, I'd done it enough already.

That day, I'd settled for a blowjob in the back of his 1996 Camaro and here we were: in my dorm and sprawled across the bed, me trying to rush so I didn't regret it halfway. Sex with anyone else but Paul wasn't as intimate, wasn't nearly as enjoyable and maybe I'd given up at some point trying to chase the feeling he'd give me by just touching me. There was too little there and to stop myself from wallowing in it, I told myself to settle. I wasn't ever gonna feel that again, at least not until I'd graduated and by then, Paul would most definitely have found someone else.