”It’s over”, you say it so casually. I don’t know how to respond back to you. I instantly lean back on my elbow, my chest still pounding from the orgasmic bliss you left me with. I urge you to silently look into my eyes and give me an explanation. You turn on the rickety bed, the curve of your back exposed, prop your elbow, one hand precariously holding onto the cigarette that you so crave after we fuck. You take a long drag, god you are so fucking sexy when you do that and stare at me with hooded eyes, your eyes dart towards my lips and I wet them unconsciously. I wonder if you would kiss me now, kiss me like you do sometimes, as if I mean something to you. Instead you raise your delicate hand and grip my chin, trace my face with your soft fingertips and caress my hair. I would be a fool to believe that there was something more to your touches, something which I have been feeling for a long time. You suddenly get up, the rough cotton sheets pooling at your feet. You are naked underneath, naked and glorious and I dare hope all mine now. “Its over between me and him,” you say again. Finally, finally you said what I was hoping you would one day. What I had dreamed for so long. You lean on the windowsill, the early morning sunlight painting your sculpted curves a shade far lovelier than any creature I have gazed upon. Looking at you, my heart always swells with something, something suspiciously like love. I knew it was futile to hope, but I ardently wished that you had left him for me. Gods above, all those mixed signals you were giving me had to mean something, didn’t they? I take a deep steadying breath and get out of the bed and touch your shoulder gently, tugging your body towards mine. I crush my lips to yours; my taste still lingering on the tip of your tongue. I let go of you only to hold your waist as gently as I could. Your gaze is sharp, primal and I wouldn’t lie but it turned me on. It was now or never. “So it means, ‘we’…?”
You cut me off with a frown pulling down your bow shaped lips. “No”. You say so resolutely. I am taken aback as if you had slapped me. “What? Why?” I whisper. You look at me as if I was a fool for asking you such a stupid question. “Why?!”, you enunciate slowly as if talking to a child. “What we have,” you gesture between us, “it’s just fucking, sorry I don’t do love honey. “I instantly back off, of course, it wasn’t love, of course you couldn’t love me. I was a warm and willing body for you, a body you could do anything with, and my heart, you took it and crushed it. I stumble back towards the bed, reeling back from my reality. I sit on it, unseeing. You approach me cautiously, as if I would break if you breathed so much as near me, “Please don’t tell me you have feelings for me.” You ask sharply. “You knew what this was”, I could only look back at you mutely. Of course It was going to happen one day, you were going to leave me just as you left him. Stupid, stupid, I was; a goddamn fool. I can see you moving quickly about the motel room, picking up your clothes and shoes. “Listen, it’s best that we don’t see each other for a while”, you say quietly and I couldn’t agree more. “If you change your mind, you know how to find me.” And just like that you leave, slamming the door on your way. No goodbye, no promises, I was left all alone, used up, looking at the cheaply painted door and cursing myself. It doesn’t end well, love doesn’t.