Giving you up

So @sexblogofsorts has put out a Lent themed competition, giving something up. I want to enter, of course I do, I love her blog and am a much too frequent visitor, the chance of something connected to her blog is pretty exciting. So Lent is 40 days. I spend the first 34 days desperately trying to think of something I can write, or maybe avoiding what I know I can write so easily but don’t want to. So my post isn’t the filth I was hoping to submit but every once in a while my brain gets hold of something and refuses to let me write anything else but that, sometimes it just has to come out.

Giving things up has never been my strong suit. I can be childish and impatient with certain things. Certain things I want and I want immediately, certain things I know I shouldn’t have or want but I continue anyway, normally at the detriment of myself. Some things get hold of me like a drug and no matter how bad I know they are for me I can’t stop, I can’t let go. I have to ride it out until it gets to a certain point to make me stop or something else forces me into it. He is like my drug. His smell, his kiss, his body against mine, his smile and the way he holds me, it makes the blood rush through my body as if it’s heroin coursing through my veins. So high while he’s there, floating like a cloud until it’s time for the rain to pour. Because that’s the thing about clouds, no matter how pretty and care free they are eventually they will become just as heavy as the other clouds and they will fall so far.

He is so much more important to me than I am to him and I know how bad that is, I understand what that means. I understand where this is going but I won’t stop it. A train heading off a cliff but I’m just a passenger and so is he. He’s a passenger too but sitting in a much safer seat than me, there is no stopping the crash ahead. I don’t even want to stop it, the ride and the thrill of it is all too fun. And in some sense it’s good for me, he’s good for me, he gets me doing things I’ve never done before and believing in myself in ways I never have before. He is that rush I don’t want to give up but I know one day I will have to, I don’t want to lose him but at the same time I know I can never win him. A state of turmoil between love and hate, not wanting to land on either side. Sometimes when he leaves I get so sad and because of that I get so pissed off at myself because I know I will speak to him soon, I will speak to him whenever I like and it’s unlikely to be more than a few days until I see him again. But I think what makes me sad is I know one day will be the last day.

One day will be the last day and one day I will be strong enough to give you up. And I will look back on our time and boy will I smile because it really has been fantastic. And I will remember that time you stopped off at my house on your way home because you knew I was upset and you just wanted to hug me, you didn’t have time to come in or for anything else, but you knew I needed a hug. And I will remember every piece of advice you’ve given me in those times where I’ve felt so lost and you made everything seem okay again. I will remember that time we went away for a few days and I experienced so many firsts with you. I will remember that time we had many filthy things planned but I wasn’t well and I expected you to cancel but you didn’t, you tucked me into bed and brought me chips and kissed my forehead. I will remember one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had that was down to you and I will remember my first champagne cocktail. And more than anything, I will remember the way you kissed me.

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