• The Threat

    by  • June 4, 2017 • * Safe for Work *, To You • 0 Comments

    Recently we were standing in my kitchen, just us. Our eyes avoiding each other. It is really such a small place that in order to face each other and make eye contact requires a level of intimacy that I am unsure if I am comfortable with. Tension enclosed around me, locking me in a small box with you.

    We were flirtaciously arguing about me not trusting you with my secrets. You assured me that you are a man of your word. But even now, I still am not sure about you. But you insisted. I refused to believe.

    “Do I have to give you a reason to make you trust me?” You asked.

    I ignored the question, but my mind raced through all the possibilities of the meaning of your words. I refused to allow myself to feel excited by you. As I continued to deny my trust in you, I wondered what you think you could possibly do that would force me into trusting you?

    As we continued this you moved closer to me, your eyes burning holes into me. It suddenly became much warmer, much more tense. Your strength presiding over me, I began to feel traoped by you. I felt like I was caught in a web and you, playing the role of the spider were just toying with your victim’s fears before the finality of the spider devouring it’s prey.

    “Don’t make me do this,” you threatened, moving closer still.

    You were now in my personal space. The air around me seemed steamy, as your face was a mere 6 inches from mine. I refused to back up or back down.

    Your words and body language combined in my mind, and suddenly I realized what you were threatening. My heart all but exploded, and my mind flew into fight or flight mode, for some reason. My body turned into jello, and I had to run. No matter how bad I wanted you, I was even more afraid of you and what you were/are capable of.

    In that instant I became a warrior, and thought up some witty comeback that I can’t even remember now. I hope it wasn’t too silly, but with a wink and sly smile, I strode passed you in an attempt to seem confident.

    Since then, I have gone over it endlessly in my mind. What would’ve happened if I had played along, without running? My 16 year old self would have jumped at you, but I am not that girl anymore. I don’t enjoy the games where we beat around the bush in an endless dance of you want me, you want me not. I appreiciate… what’s the right word? Aggressive? No, forward? Yes, i appreciate forward gestures of affection. So, if you want me, you have to just go for it, I guess. I crave your touch. Talking with you is easier than breathing. And I am pretty sure that I physically wouldn’t find the strength to push away your touch.

    I wouldn’t require much from you, besides discretion and respect. Our individual choices in life have made it impossible and socially unacceptable for us to actually be together. As if that were something you would want. I understand that it would be just a booty call for you. You don’t have to make me your one and only. You won’t have to marry me. I require no promises of forever. I do; however, need to trust in you completely, and I need to know that you do as well. I need you to respect the fact that I care for you in a way that you don’t care for me. I need the promise of silence: That everything stays between us. And I need your vow that we will remain as we are now. I fear change deeply, and must be sure that nothing will change.

    What am I saying? Of course it will! Sex complicates everything. On that note, how did I even go from your threat to sex? I still can’t be 100% sure that your threat was not taken by me to mean more than your intentions. You see? This is what you do to me. You make me crazy. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I stop? You’ve planted a seed and I am watering it, aren’t I?

    I should stop reliving ghosts of memories of those moments with you. But it feels so good. I know I should just let go and walk away, but I feel like to do that would be to live in a dusty, desolate desert and you are the water I survive on.

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