If I met you last night, and brought you back to my place, or followed you to yours, and we had sex, that's what we asked for from each other. It's what I got, and what you got. I don't know you. You don't know me. Thanks for playing, and we're done. If by some fluke anything was said at some point during this entire exchange that made me curious enough to see you again, I would.
Has that happened before? A couple of times. Did it last? Clearly, no.
Tags: love one-night-stand acuacquaintance
"Apartó las lágrimas de mi rostro.- ¿Cómo me has encontrado?
Sacudí mi cabeza.- Quizás estoy exactamente donde debí de haber estado, después de todo.
So I don't want you to feel pressured. Or overpowered. But I do, absolutely, want to kiss you right now. Badly.
Tammara WebberIt’s my baby. I can’t just let her give it away—
Tammara WebberWhy me?" I hear his answer in my head before he says it.
"Don't know, honey. But there's a reason for everything." Dad pats my hand. "We'll just have to wait patiently to see what it is."
As i do every time he says that or something like this, I bite back what I'd say if I could reply honestly. I don't believe there's a reason for everything, and having faith doesn't mean I'm blind. I believe people make poor choices. I believed bad things happen to good people. I believe there's evil in the world that I will never understand, but will never stop fighting. If I believe for two seconds that there was a reason behind some of the awful things that occur in this life, I wouldn't be able to stand it.
You may be the only one who'll see through all my bullshit and help me try to be something more, something better."
I stare at our intertwined hands. "I don't want to help you try to be anything. I want someone who's already something more. On his own. With or without me.
Let me tell you girls a story, short and sweet. In high school, I was a junior varsity cheerleader dating a senior who was up for football scholarships. I'd slept with him several times willingly. One night I wasn't in the mood, but he was. So he held me down and forced me. The few people I told about it - including my best friend - pointed out what would happen to him if I told. They stressed the fact that I hadn't been a virgin, that we were dating, that we'd had sex before. So I kept quiet. I never even told my mother. That boy put bruises on my body. I was crying and begging him to stop and he didn't. That's called rape, ladies.
Tammara WebberI felt the threads of connection between us—fragile filaments, so easily snapped. Like the poem at shift into his side, we were craving to fit inside the other, and is melting and reshaping could be deeper, more resilient.
Tammara WebberTags: easy poem tammara-webber
Alarmed, I realized what my visceral reaction implied: jealousy. Over a guy I barely knew, with whom I’d exchanged more saliva than sentences.
Tammara WebberWhenever I appeared to have won an argument, Mom would say something like, 'Even broken clocks are right twice a day.
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