For a while now, nothing seems to make me happy anymore. I feel there is a block. I cannot go any further on this journey unless I find, and accomplish my purpose. There’s more to life than lust. More than love. Survival, companionship. What if, after many years of denial or pity, a realisation emerges that the object of your affection just doesn’t fit you anymore. The arguments are futile. I try, but I’m exhausted.

But I need to get this stuff out of my head. I want companionship, yet I wish to be left alone at times. He needs to learn to pick up these queues. He needs to know when I need to be held. He needs to know when I want to be playful. He needs to know when I need tenderness. He needs to know when I want to be seduced. He needs to know when I want to be the seducer. He needs to stop asking me if I’m ok over and over – he knows I’m unhappy.  He needs to sweep me off my feet. He needs to smell so irresistable that I can’t keep my hands off him.

At times it’s like there are two of them. J and S.

J is the one who doesn’t hide feelings, who asks about my welfare. He is the playful one. The generous one. charismatic, with irresistible eyes. His scent overwhelms me and I just want to melt into him. His power hits you in the chest with such a force, your heart misses a beat. His innocent looks are deceptive as there is a cheeky twinkle in his eye.

S has the addictive personality. He hides away from the world, immersing himself in fantasy. Aggressive, jealous, posessive, objective, defensive, offensive, neurotic, panicky, critisizing everything including himself, blaming everything on himself because he wishes this is how I felt.

It hurts so much knowing his heart is somewhere else. I am not a place he calls home. He’s just stopping by, or thats what if feels like at times.