...no, not like that! dirrrrrrrrrrrty non-existant reader, you!
It's just comforting to have skin touch my lower pelvis (that sounds clinical, almost).. and away we go... there goes the mind into the land of sensuality. I guess I miss that. yeah... but really I miss being able to truly be passionate about making love to someone because you know you two are in it for the long haul - or at least you think you are. But surprise, surprise, you're not... finding trouble trusting your own judgement, Noemi? Yeah, sort of. But then my supa dupa supafly rationalista part of me starts to play that justification game, where you think to yourself, "Well, fuck, yeah (vocabularily enriched, aren't I?) - something very strong and real was there. You felt something.. something passionate. But you also felt something very weary.. questioning... but the passion was stronger. Only thing is, all of a sudden you don't know this guy at all - and the worst of it is that you don't even like the guy that he's all of a sudden revealing to you. INFACT, he turns out to be the epitome of everything that makes you want to slam a guy against a wall and kick him in the nuts until he comes to either his senses or his torturous demise. Cause he enrages you. His complete voidness of any tact or self-awareness is just stunning... and not in that other beautiful sense of the word. You're stunned. Like, who the fuck is this guy and have I just been under somekind of half-year duping? holy shit! I didn't even want a relationship to begin with! But I got into it because he was sooooooo.... something. you guys connected. and he made you feel like "gold", as they say.
and i believe that's about it for my attention span tonight....
