The night is a mistress of life. It is the hardest time to be alive for, those silent hours bring forth Melancholic air and scandalous actions. In its prime it feeds off of the secrets, schemes and lies made within it, knowing it was only a matter o...
First Authors note: Honestly, grief is something everyone will have to go through in life and I'm not just talking about the loss of life. The pain that comes with it is forevermore. Most days can be alright but when you are reminded it can be debilitating. I've been in a funk for weeks and have been slowly climbing out of it.
This baby is over 8k words and I already have 3k for the next chapter 💙 Bare with me.
SANTA MONICA, CA October
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I am never drinking again.
Sipping my third cup of coffee from the 'No flux given' mug I found in the kitchen, analgesics mix with the caffeine, coursing through my veins to relieve the pressure in my head and soreness in my body. Rays of Californian sun sweep into the sitting room and a rush of exasperation leaves me through a deep exhale, as I think about what happened last night.
Why, why, why did I ever have the courage to say something so foolish?
Until recently, I didn't even think I could feel this way. After trial and error time and again with different men, this was unimaginable. A lost wistful thought.
Which is why I'm confused, wondering when the hell did I start wanting more again? I remember when I wrestled with the fact that I wanted more than sex from Luca. It was difficult to understand but our shared history mollified my apprehension about it. I liked my relationship with him. Correction, I like my relationship with him. Present tense. Although unconventional, our relationship has been good (ignoring the slight breakup we had because he wouldn't communicate the truth to me). Really fucking good, I mean I laugh and smile more; I'm less concerned about what others (yes, I am subbing my mother) thinks; my life is more than just work now; and although I'm always sore after because of the roughness and his length, the sex is mindblowingly good.
So, for the life of me, I cannot pinpoint when I went from liking my relationship to becoming greedy for more. So much more. I don't know how or where my brain became scrambled and confused, tricked into believing that I could be deciphered, peeled to my core, found where I'm ruined and still be desired.
This is dangerous territory, my mind warns and a small laugh leaves my lips as I shake my head. My thoughts aren't exactly forbidden but I know better than to mistake lust and infatuation for love. I know better than to want the unattainable.
And maybe I'm being dramatic and this was me overreacting but, ever since my birthday (the night we made up and decided to be together) with the exception of the few days I was in California without Luca, we have slept close together. No matter how late he'd come in or early he'd leave the bed, his hand would wrap around my waist, my leg would entwine with his and his warmth would radiate from him to me.
