fault. Was it something I said? Please, if you’ll just come back, we can talk it out. I know we can. Please come back! Pretty please?
If I wasn’t in a public place right now, I’d laugh.
On second thought, maybe I’d cry.
Nah, I definitely think I’ll stick with laughter. There’s too much real tragedy in the world for me to look at something like this as anything but a joke.
On paper, Nash and I are good together. We’ve been good together and we’ll continue being good together. For the rest of our years. This is just a little bump in the road. He’s overworked and I’m…what? What am I?
Bored?
Uninspired?
Those are big words for someone like me, even though I know I’m the one who wrote them. Someone with so much going for her she can’t help but breathe it in and sit back in quiet awe.
But still…
I miss the way it feels to lose myself. That molten feeling that starts low. A thrum. A throb. Then it begins to work its way through my body and next thing you know I’m panting and screaming and lost in bliss and…
…I don’t know what else.
It says something that I can no longer find the words to describe it properly. That it’s been so long I don’t even remember how it feels.
I miss feeling beautiful.
I miss feeling passion.
I miss feeling.
I need to feel like a woman made of fire and energy and possibility again. Not this empty body, filled with gray and ash and boredom. I miss that surge of adrenaline that used to spin and twist through my stomach when Nash looked at me. A tornado of love, setting my nerve-endings on fire.
For that matter, I miss having Nash look at me, but that’s another thing altogether. He’s so busy with work and I respect that he’s building our future, but I sure as hell am bored in the present.
He’s tired, I get it, but one smack on my ass and I’m supposed to be ready to go? He climbs on. Won’t even look me in the eye. No kissing. No touching. No connection. No foreplay at all. It’s just, I don’t know, clinical. A means to an end.
My body is a tool, designed for his pleasure and his pleasure alone. And really, I wonder if he even gets anything out of it. I mean, he definitely finishes, so there’s that.
But there’s more to sex than just the physical side of things, right? I know men and women are different, but there has to be more than a muscle spasm and some fluid and we’re set. Right? I mean, right? Everything in this world revolves around sex.
Wars have started…
Empires collapsed…
Friends and family walk around with knives firmly lodged in backs…
If it’s really all about a second-long dick sneeze, then I’m just ashamed about the human race in general. It has to be about the connection. About sharing something that intimate and that special and that personal with someone you love and cherish and adore. There has to be something spiritual to it. There just has to be.
*sigh*
I stopped believing Nash feels anything but annoyed and obligated to me a long time ago. Although…that’s not fair. That’s me being melodramatic. He works hard. I know he loves me. Things just fade after that first burst of new love.
We’re in the Comfortable Zone now. Capital C. Capital Z.
That’s just as good. Better even. I know him and he knows me and we don’t need fireworks to remind us we’re special to each other.
Although I do miss the fireworks…
And you want to know the real kick in the shins? I can’t even get myself off anymore. Believe me, I’ve tried…
…and tried…
…and tried…
There’s just…nothing.
It’s like I’m numb.
Dead.
Like all the feeling has been sucked out of my body and I’m just a shell of who I used to be.
See? None of this is Nash’s fault, is it? If I can’t even do it for myself, it’s got to be something with me, not anything to do with our relationship. But honestly, I’m too young to face the rest of my life having to go through the motions of sex without getting anything from it. It’s messy. Awkward. Sometimes it hurts.
Please tell me this isn’t all I have to look forward to.
Please tell me there’s more to life and love than disappointment.
I don’t want to spend the rest of my years surrounded by people and still feeling completely alone…
Chapter Two
Lucas
My feet thumped against the sand as early morning light