distance.

“… you were the one that distanced yourself and I respected it. I got it.” 

About that distance. About your decision to walk away. When your father died, sex became the salve. It didn’t matter who, it didn’t matter then when and why. You wanted to be with someone, close to someone, needed by someone, used by someone. So you did it. Often. More times than you did before death was dropped at your doorstep. It’s no different than those who drink or smoke the pain away. You chose to use your body in the worst way to escape the worst emotions you’ve ever felt in your life. One day you slept with the wrong one. He changed your life forever. 

Since then, you hid. From men, from dating, from romantic love, from warm embrace. Get numbers, never call them. Flirt for sport only to cry about empty beds and empty promises. Try to date under the pretense of trying but fail at that too. You didn’t want to waste anyone’s time. You didn’t want to give pretense to something that would never be a reality. 

And when you would get close, it felt like they only wanted one thing. That thing you weren’t comfortable to give. And when you said that you couldn’t, they were going to find a way to get it from you and they did. In an empty office space, in the car on the way to a smoke session, in your DMs and text messages. In a kitchen with your back against the counter. That time you graciously open your legs. It had been so long since you felt a man’s touch by your own discretion. You never shook and trembled so much before. You never saw stars like those. Galaxies and orbits surrounding you. You smiled coming down from space. 

You hit the ground with a thud full of so much violence and gore. That’s a way to describe shame and guilt. 

You didn’t want to feel that way again so you swore yourself to solitude and silence. 

“I’m abstaining at the moment.” 

“Likewise.” 

Is he out there? Is he out there waiting for you? The person who understands your decision and never pressures you to think otherwise about your choice. Someone who knows you can be in when it’s time but doesn’t feel the moments leading up are a waste. Willing to be in your space, willing to care and share, willing to be a rider. Is okay with being your friend. Not using your friendship as an escape from “crazy” or “clingy”. Not a friend who says he’s looking to build a future with his future but then says that she could be soon in the past. Within an hour. After you tell him that you need a minute away to figure out who you felt about him, y’all and us. Because he felt you slipping away. 

You can’t wait to find someone who isn’t him. Because he ain’t him. 

So care about yourself for once.