The Hipster Brigade
Wednesday, June 18, 2003
 
sometimes no is a realization that only occurs after you visit the shrink

i didn't start my sex life with chaste no's. i couldn't stop saying yes -- forced, faked yeses in other people's beds. i had wanted it to be that way. i just couldn't stop after that first kiss. when you held my fingers in your mouth and i moaned softly in your back. i was done for. you took out your retainer and i looked at that picture of your girlfriend on the wall, right by my head, and you told me, "its okay." i didn't argue. i just kissed you. at first, soft like the feathers poking out from your down comforter and than harder like the cock i could feel next to my thigh. i didn't really know what i was doing. you were playing me and that was okay. i didn't mind because i would have done anything to be with you. i would have done anything to look into your blue eyes and say, "be with me...forever." those words never came but i kept going back. i kept saying no in my mind. i kept saying, "this is the last time." you nodded. you wanted to make out in the park and i wanted to forgive you with those last kisses in the library. soon, i realized my powerlessness. i just decided to move on to steve, jarod and alex. i'm sure there were others and those names are just representations of the names i can't remember now.

then i don't know what happened. the no’s got a lot easier. i said a big fuck you and i was by myself and i liked it. and you remember when your friends and people who said were your friends but weren't said things to you like, "if you aren't obvious and if you don't want it, it will come" or something like that. i was never one for sayings. i just couldn't stop wanting. i didn't know how to stop wanting. in fact, i wanted so badly that i didn't know what i wanted. and even now, i still don't know what i like other than squirrels and muffins and tea and ryan adams. just long lists of obsessions. sometimes i turn into my obsessions that i obscure the underneath. the gnitty gritty. the stuff. the deep down. sometimes i just become a big list of song lyrics stuck in my head when i'm shelving books. just a long list of numbers and words starting to smear together. i just really want to understand and i want you to understand that i just don't know. that all those times before weren't really me and i don't know who that me was. that me was a girl looking for attention in the kisses of strangers. that those kisses could become me and all of me was in those kisses. i never held back. not once (maybe once) i've given my whole to those lips through mine. i just don't find satisfaction through the best ultra-sexxx.
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