3AM

Return

I hoped and wished and even prayed that you would return. I even started leaving the doors unlocked just in case, by any chance, you would return to me. Eventually you did come back, just not in the way I wanted.

The night you called I was actually asleep; it was the first time I had slept soundly in months. The ringing of my phone echoed in my ears and somehow I knew it was you. I hesitated to pick up my phone, god, why do I remember hesitating so vividly? My shaking hands were covered in bite marks from my nights I spent crying and screaming over you. I hesitated for so damn long that I almost missed the call... but when I answered your voice swamped me with the feelings I'd repressed for months. By the end of the night my hands had one more mark.

You told me that you were bored and I was to entertain you. But I'm not a circus performer and you aren't my crowd; I yelled that I wasn't meant to please you. You wanted me to be your 3AM booty call and I finally grew strong enough to say no.

You got frustrated with me then, slurring your words in frustration with my sudden self respect. But I needed that call to wake me up. Wake me up from the hallucination that you actually loved your toy. I whispered a goodbye and touched the end call, but you didn't quit.

You called me again, and again, and again. You pushed me again, and again, and again, yet you thought I'd still be there. You had your fun, you enjoyed my torment. You thought I could satisfy your hunger but I didn't go down easy.

That night, I locked the doors. I blocked your number. But, I didn't sleep. How could I sleep when I was terrified you'd come back?