Love Lust

Synopsis:

lust/lʌst/ 

▶noun strong sexual desire.a passionate desire for something chiefly Theology a sensuous appetite regarded as sinful. verb(usu. lust for/after) feel lust for someone or something. – origin OE, of Gmc origin.

  love/lʌv/ 

▶noun 1 an intense feeling of deep affection. a deep romantic or sexual attachment to someone. affectionate greetings.2 a great interest and pleasure in something. 3 a person or thing that one loves.Brit. informal a friendly form of address.4 (in tennis, squash, etc.) a score of zero verb feel a deep romantic or sexual attachment to. like or enjoy very much.

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My fingers ran down his happy trail, my mind wondered away from this tedious procedure and I tried to figure out why it was called a happy trail. This whole process was not making me feel even slightly happy, it just confused me more. At least I was pleasing him. His trousers bulged under my touch and I heard a deep moan escape from his bright, parted lips.

“Amy, stop it, school now.” He whispered. 

I sat up and picked up my mobile phone from my desk. I had a lecture first thing and I couldn’t be late. Josh shuffled off the sofa behind me and disappeared into the bathroom we shared. 

He was my university roommate, my best friend and the amazing boy I had grown up with. We had started preschool together, and started and completed the journey through various shiteholes and finally made it to Brighton University. We shared a room in a house share, in the centre of the city and it was the best place to be, well apart from when Tally and Jon were getting at it like rabbits in the neighbouring room to ours.  I really do think they made the walls out of tissue paper when they built this house. 

I pulled my vintage knitted jumper on over my vest top and jeans and called to Josh in the bathroom:

“J, I’m leaving, text me when you’re out of your lecture with Professor Tyler.”

“Fine Amy, see you!” he chortled back happily.

I spent the rest of the morning tapping away on my laptop, as I took down detailed notes on what the prematurely aged man at the front was mumbling on about, I couldn’t kid myself any longer, my mind was definitely elsewhere. 

Images flashed in my mind of the situation between Josh and I. I really loved him, it wasn’t just ‘the sex is fucking amazing’ kind of love, the sex was amazing, but I knew he didn’t feel the same way about me. 

The whole, rather complicated, friends-with-benefits, situation had come about, the summer after our first year here in Brighton. I had just broken up my boyfriend of two years, Marc, and was completely devastated. I was typically chick flick heart broken, cuddled up with my childhood teddy, my cat, duvet and a large tub of cookie dough Ice cream. 

+last summer+ 

Josh and I were house sitting for my parents for a month in the summer, whilst they were cruising round the med on an over fifties cruise. I mean, I wasn’t complaining. It was a perfect opportunity to catch up on everything I’d missed back at home, including everyone from sixth form, family and drink a few to many rum and cokes in the meantime. 

But my ideal summer was shattered, when I came to visit my boyfriend on the morning of my return home to find him in bed, with, none other than my mother’s best friend, Cynthia. The fucking bitch. Our long distance – university relationship had going pretty well and I was looking forward to spending the summer with him.