𝓙𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽

Fuck.

Tw!!!: Sexual thoughts, depressive episodes, my ex. (a whole ass warning.), sex, mentions of sh, wet dreams, mentions of breakdowns, mentions of going non verbal, depression, hypersexuality, the word fuck is used alot, mentions of fainting(??), mentions of kinks (degration), humiliation (you need to squint to see it.), real life events (fuck my life)

I feel nasty.

My dreams are always subtle, never violent or sexual in any regard, until last night. And even worse, it wasn't somebody I wanted to remember. Now now, and not ever. Heavy breathing, soft moaning of each others names, whatever. Its not that im upset about the dream. Dreams like those come every once in a while, but the person who was in it. My ex. The one who built me up and broke me down like a jenga tower. It wasn't just sex though. It would never be just sex. It was love. Something both beautiful but a curse. Something that made me who I am today. A sloppy, helpless, hopeless romantic. In that six seven hour dream, it went like it was reality. He took me out, we watched movies, we geeked out about shows, etcetera. But the last thing he said to me in that dream, us breathing heavy, skin to skin, sweating like hogs, was "I love you."

Lies.

I woke up, shaking, soaking, and mentally shaming myself of my dream. The memories of it hit me like a train, focing me to be in a state of shock. I couldn't even move. And what was worse is that all of those damn memories of him. Hit me once again. His name played in my head like a broken record. And all I can feel is the puddle of my release coating a margin of my sheets, and covering the majority of my thighs. My body was coated with a layer of sweat and I could. Not. Stop. Shaking. I felt like a hog. And I smelt like sex. Despite me being a virgin. I was never obligated to any type of sexual actions, well, most. I haven't felt like this in a while. And I never wanted to feel like this again. My head was ringing, and all I could make out was the loud babbles of my little sister in the other room I couldnt even talk.

This is exactly what I was scared of the moment that I fell for that idiot. The moment that I gave my heart to that idiot. The moent what I gave my body to that idiot. That idiot. Eventually, I did muster the strength to get up and drag my trembling body to the bathroom. I didnt want to touch a inch of my body. It felt like I was inprisoned in my own desires and fanasties. The right side of my head was pounding and my eyes were lidded, trying to block out all the light that poured into my retnas. My body, still covered in sweat was now squeezed together, my tlighs especially. I wonder how he would feel if he saw me like this, no clothes on, soaking wet, sitting on the lid of the toilet seat, and whimpering, not in pleasure, but shame. Nothing but shame was what I found. How dare I feel this amount of pleasure to the person who left me to rot. How dare I get turned on when he degraded me. How dare I still love him deep deep down after all these months. How dare i.

It had to be 15 minutes before I stood up again, all I was wanting to do was get my hands on him, and on myself. But I would'nt. I could'nt. Hell, I didnt even have the energy to speak a full sentence. It was tourture. Nothing but tourture. If we were still together, I would've been calling him right now and getting ready all giddy and joyful, like I used to be. But now its different. Instead of giggling with me he would be laughing at me. And how im so desprate for any type of romantic affection, I would get it from my ex if I had to. Nasty. Disqusting.  All i could do was look at myself. Past scars that were now healed and not visible to the eye still were shown in my vision. My brown eyes had this dark glint that I can't even explain, and my mouth was open, panting like a dog. All I could say was one thing.

"You look nasty."

I hissed to myself, my voice cracky but quiet, like a kittens mew in the dead of night. I let out a small weep, closing my eyes and letting my upper half of my body drop to the rim of the sink, my arms covering my head and hair in shame of what i have done. What have I done? It was evident that it was'nt a good doing, but was it intentional? Absolutely not. I just wanted to be loved and appreciated. But I couldn't even have that from the person that I loved, from the person who I love. Someone get me a nerd that is tall and slender before i have a breakdown. Pretty please?? I thought to myself, letting out a small snicker, and holding my head up. I miss my father. Where did that come from? He left three years ago! Whatever. Back to being sad I guess. I walked out of the bathroom, only to find myself slumping back on the bed without a inch of energy left in my body. It felt like all my body shut down, but im still conscious. Is this another episode?

Right. My mom doesn't give a shit enough to take me to the doctor. But she of course take my sister to the doctor for a stye that only gotten bigger because she waited long enough. Its not like i hate my sister, in fact im happy to see her in a better state, but it feels like im just some rando in this house ever since she turned one year old. It felt like i was paralyzed, more and more thoughts just jamming into my brain, more and more reasons to end it all, I thought.

My alarm clock went off, songs by Summer Walker and Brent Faiyaz filling the room. Not a good time for slow music. I closed my eyes, too awake to go back to sleep but too asleep to open them again. Of course, the song was about sex. I let out a heavy breath beginning to shake as the lyrics flowed into my mind like a damn cartoon, clear as day. Fuck was the only word i could think about, different meanings, same word. I felt like a mindless zombie but instead of wanting brains, i wanted some dick instead. Fucking whore. I abuptly thought as the song "Body" By Summer Walker ended. Body. Nice title. Nice song. Nice meaning. Especially when you listen closely to it, instead of listening to it when you fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. I want to fuc- *click.* 

My train of thought ended when the door opened, my mother seeing my sweaty dazed state but not paying it any attention, telling me that shes about to leave to drop my little sister off. I hope she has fun at daycare, unlike how im getting flooded with dirty thoughts of how i could be fucking like bunnies with someone if i had a better body, a better personality, a better attitude, a better closet which i would've had if my mom let me live a little. Fuck this. Fuck me. I thought at once, the right side of my head hurting, still soaking wet, looking like i went though hell and back, and  getting up to pick out my clothes for school against my will.

Fuck.