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Showing posts from July, 2015

Stop

“Stop.”
“Stop?” I said.
Collaborate and listen?
“Stop.”
I shouldn’t be thinking about Vanilla Ice right now. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but I was afraid he would respond with ‘I don’t like those kind of questions.’
His hand reached behind my ear pushing my hair back. It was an intimate gesture, in spite of the momentary rejection. He was in my bed. He pressed his lips against mine. When it stopped my head was resting on his chest.
He fell asleep quickly and I tried to keep my eyelids shut long enough so I would be sleeping too. His shirt smelled like he’d been working in a kitchen for twelve hours. I realized tonight we talked for longer than we ever had in the last ten years.
It was nice to have someone in my bed. I spent the night rationalizing this in my head, the innocence of sleeping together without the indiscretion. As if justifying male attention was a party trick I wish I had never learned. But I wanted to know why.
The morning light gradually snuck into my bedroom…