"Let's talk about sex baby. Let's talk about you and me. Let's talk about all the good things and the bad things
that may be. Let's talk about sex." - Salt-n-Pepa
She strikes another match, watches it flare up, burn til it's almost reached her fingers and lets it go. It falls into the water with a small hiss. Nearly inaudible. That's every flirtation she's had with another woman right there she thinks rolling her eyes at her own melodrama.
She loves sex. There's just
something about the intimacy of two people connecting physically. Being inside
another person, having another person inside her. She loves sex. The stuff
before and after, that's what she dislikes. Women are fucking difficult.
Riddles too complicated for her solve. She finds herself time after time
treading water with no sight of dry land. Fuck water, she's treading quicksand
that stretches for miles around. And it's been years since she's found solid
ground. Women to her are as convoluted as that metaphor.
She strikes another match, watches it flare up, burn til it's almost reached her fingers and lets it go. It falls into the water with a small hiss. Nearly inaudible. That's every flirtation she's had with another woman right there she thinks rolling her eyes at her own melodrama.
It would be better is she was
better at pretense. But her problem is that she starts a lie and then gets
bored of it. How many people has she presented herself as at this point? Too
many by far. But none of them are anyone she wants to be. And as the
constraints she puts herself into begin to chafe, she starts to resent the
person she's put herself in them for. But
she keeps doing it. Because anything is better than letting someone know her
for who she is. Because she learned the hard way that rejection hurts more when
you show up as yourself.
But celibacy is shit. That's the
problem. That's her biggest flaw. As much as she hates the bullshit that comes
with the performance you put on for another person to get them into bed, she
hates celibacy more. She's so hungry for touch, for intimacy that she plods on
playing games she has no business and no interest in playing. Because that's
what it all is. A big game of Let's Play Pretend. Let me pretend to be someone
I'm not. Someone less awkward, someone less shitty and someone infinitely less
fucked up.
All for a pair of soft lips press
against her own. All to feel another woman's arms wrapped around her, to lie
between a woman's legs.. to run her hands over her body, learn it by touch. All
because. So she keeps dancing to tune after unfamiliar tune. She's so tired of
the bullshit but it's her only option. Humans are a funny lot. Full of want.
That's what she is really, a big ball of frustrated desires. It burns like a
sun inside of her, just beneath her solar plexus. This want. Water water
everywhere and not a drop to drink she thinks to herself. She shakes her head.
Stupid.