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❝ and baby, you know i keep it nice and warm to satisfy you know that i am always hot for you and if there's any kind of love that will exemplify my sweetie, i have got that kind of love times two ❞
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𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐨'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯.
this is some stupid ass shit.
actually, i don't think i've ever struggled with this level of stupidity in my life. the question on my mind right now is not one i'm used to at all. in fact, i don't think i've ever thought about the topic at hand- i'm often too focused on how i'm gonna get my next cart, how i'm gonna smoke my next blunt..
i could've never imagined myself racking my head, asking myself what should i wear for our date?- and by our, i mean the boy who i went from teasing about his anxious mannerisms and love for books to feening for his hands on my body and wondering when i'm gonna get the next chance to fit him in my mouth. the almost dizzying change was one that i don't think either of us was expecting but i cannot mask the fact that it's changed me as an individual.. i suppose giving someone all my attention does. there's no other reason that i find myself fairly content but him; he makes me feel pretty, he gives me something to look forward to when i wake up, something to strive for.. to better myself for.
still, despite my progressing mindset i still find myself pondering the same question that i started with. i wonder- if he knew what this body he seems to adore had been used for would he still love it? would he still touch me the same, still smile at me if he knew just how used up i am? would he still ask me to stay by his side?
...i wouldn't even be able to have his baby.
the thought and almost all of its connotations hits me right in the chest, causing me to freeze as i cease my actions of going through the pile of clothes on my bed. why am i, of all people giving any thought to a child? the mere fact that i can no longer produce one should testify to the relevance they have to me. sure, babies are cute- gorgeous sometimes, but i could never see myself as a mother.
even so, life is full of twist and turns...
picking up a random purple garment from the pile, i inspect the long sleeved t-shirt that looks fairly similar to the ones i usually wear.
even if i wanted to try for him, i just don't feel comfortable enough with myself yet so it's no surprise to me when i simply resort back to the same old thing i usually wear- some baggy jeans that hang low on my waist and the somewhat fitted, purple long-sleeved shirt. this should be enough, right? i usually wear black or grey, so the mere fact that i'm wearing a tightly fitted, lightly-colored shirt is a stretch for me, especially since my pants are quite low on my waist. the fit of the shirt favors my small waist, but it also highlights the rolls that i love to hide and the small pudge on my stomach.
