"If you love me let me go, if you love me let me go. 'Cause these words are knives and often leave scars. The fear of falling apart..."
"Sing away my life Brendon Urie." I said to my ears as Panic! At The Disco, "This Is Gospel" blared in my head. I was laying on my bike, stretched out, staring at the sky until my eyes distorted and I had to look away. The heat beat down on me and my navy-blue blue jeans, American Flag tank top, and my American Flag Authentic Vans. I was sure I'd get an even heavier tan and have one hell of a tan-line to say the least. I sighed then shifted a little bit on my bike, soon being bombarded my the burning heat on the material. I jerked away from it fast, then slowly put my hand back on the composite body; the sting distracting me from what my mind had at hand.
Andrew. I know it's such a confusing thing to say the least, why, in fact, I haven't had sex with him yet. It's like this: when I moved here, me and Andrew started talking and then dated and got together after we met at his job. He's a great guy and all, but honestly... I just got with him to fill a void. I had been without a boyfriend for twelve years (holy shit, that's crazy but true) and when Andrew sparked up, I took the chance. It was puppy-love really, something cute and nice, but he's just not one of those guys that you let take your V-card. Like a fling type of thing. And you see, I heard some of the ways he says things and it really makes me turn my cheek and think about such. He talks about his old girlfriends with his buddies and all the things they did. It seems that he did them then dropped them. In all actuality, and he has told me this, he was with another girl right before he got with me and dumped her after they did it. I just don't want to be that girl he does then dumps.
And to be truthful...
Andrew is a man-ho.
I just don't want to a) give something that precious of mine to a guy that would drop me in a heartbeat afterward, b) perpetually have, in a round-about way, have sex with his past girl-toys, and c) be the topic of conversation to his buddies like his old toys are now. I'm not a topic, don't treat me as such. Start it up, joke around with it, then drop it like old news. Uh-uh, I just don't think so.
I was fuming like the hot pavement of the road. This pissed me off. I had so much shit to contend with on my plate. I didn't want to loose my shit to him and then get kicked to the curb, but I also kind-of didn't want to leave him. He is a good guy, sweet and funny at times, but needy. Especially here recently. I just don't know.
I place my hands over my sweaty face (I didn't even know I was sweating) and then dropped them, again being stung by the heated Hayabusa. I groaned then thought of something.
My eyes shot as far open as they could get, turning white because of the light and not being adjusted yet.
Ohmygawd, the shower the other day..
That shit... oh my goodness. I thought back to everything that happened. The touching when I couldn't see, the neck nipping nad kissing, grinding, the stiffness, everything. How I was so into it, so ready, so needing of what this mystery guy was ready to give. I knew no one else was in our house, so the guy had to be Andrew, but for me to not know who he was at first has to mean one thing....
I wasn't thinking about Andrew.
It wasn't Andrew's lips I imagined, it wasn't his body I felt, his hair I tangled.
I wasn't prepared to give myself to Andrew.
I was prepared to give myself to
Zach.
