Stinkin Thinkin

Aiming to please

My whole life has revolved around pleasing other people. I never really thought about what would make me whole. What would make me truly happy. I never had to. I was always pleasing somebody. My dad was the light at the end of my tunnel, but I took him for granted. I never really knew how much he meant to me til he was gone, and that hurts. Knowing that I could never make it right again put me in a place I never thought I would ever be in. In these so-called relationships, I seek him in these men, and I shouldn't, but I don't know where else to look. My childhood fucked me up so bad I don't know who I am anymore. I have sex with these men, and I feel nothing. It's become almost a task at this point. It's so hard to fake being in love; I wouldn't even know what it feels like. I don't mind the hoe jokes because no one really knows what goes on. No one really knows the reason I can be so cold. Sex is something that's supposed to be intimate, loving even. But every time I have sex, I'm only pleasing the other person and not me. Truth be told, I'd be ok without it for a while. But now and again I get this itch, and I don't care who scratches it. I know it's degrading, but I just can't stop. I used to think I was addicted to sex the whole time I was manic.