April 13th - Alex's Birthday

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Dear Journal,

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Dear Journal,

I'm writing from the living room of my apartment, near the fireplace, with the soft glow of the flames dancing around me.

May is in my room, exhausted after our time together. She's sleeping in my bed—well, maybe our bed now. I can still feel the bruises on my neck in the shape of her lips and the rope marks on my wrists. I find that I actually like them—never knew she could be so wild and passionate.

Today is my birthday.

Happy Birthday to me.

I'm turning 33, and honestly, I never thought I'd make it this far in life. May had been several steps ahead of me in planning. (I'm sure Carla helped out.) She bought a cake from my favorite pastry shop, a sweet surprise that made me smile.

Now that I'm in my early thirties, I'm starting to feel a bit insecure. I asked her if she was okay with the age difference—she's 26, and I'm six years her senior. There's plenty of men her age that she can chase after but here she is with me.

She laughed, sat on my lap, and kissed me deeply.

All my doubts melted away with that kiss. It was clear: she wanted me, she loved me. (I'm so weak for her.)

When she pulled away, I noticed she had a bright red bow tied around her neck. With a sly smile, she told me to unwrap my present. Unwrapping it was pure joy. She tied me to the bed post and strip me naked but it was well worth the trouble. Theres nothing more glorious than the love of your life riding you like it's going out of style. How sad I couldn't even touch her. I could only watch in sweet agony.

Have I mentioned how much I love her? Because only she could get away with that. I love her enough to give up control.

I have to say, this has been the best birthday ever.

Not bad for 33.

Much to do,

- Alexander

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