Nothing

Chapter 1

Nothing

Morning has come and I wake up to inhale that enchanting musk. You are still asleep and you apparently snore. That would have been a turn off some other day, but not today. Not while your musk is clogging my senses and making my very human brain reminisce the forbidden passions we allowed our young lithe sweaty bodies to indulge in just a few hours ago.

This is not good. The attachment. When you leave my sheets will still smell like you and I'm too lazy to change them anytime soon. So every time I'll lay my head here trying to block out the noisy world by losing myself to fantasies, the smell of you will waft to me and you'll creep into my day dreams. I'll be waking up wet and horny and blame my hormones, but then I'll know, it's the sheets and I'll be too powerless to change them. I might even ditch my sheet changing routine just to sniff your essence a little longer...

"Morning," a low voice growls. "Morning," I mummer in a cold harsh whisper, barely looking at you, yet I had been doing so for the past ten or so minutes before you decided to ruin things and wake up. "Did you sleep well," you ask. I want to retort that you zip it with the corny morning small talk. I want to tell you to gather your belongings, vacate my bed and carry your scent with you too by whatever impractical means necessary. However the lame naive innocent side of me replies, "I slept well."

My skinny legs whirl off the bed and want to run for the door but you, you who doesn't take invisible hints proceed with the guttering morning after talk, "I enjoyed myself last night, did you?" Thumb! My small toe hits against my study table. The pain that follows is heightened by my emotional turmoil, oh how symbolic. I reach out to rub my ailed toe, all the while contemplating a worthwhile answer.

Did I enjoy myself? Tough question. There are so many reasons why I did and so many why I didn't. Maybe we mark it as a rather gray area? But you, this beautiful man seated on my bed has something called an ego. It cannot fathom the possibility of a gray area in something that it deems itself a champion and expert at. If I consider backing up my gray area analogy, you would never really understand my endless ramblings. I'm probably not in the right state of mind to come up with solid points. They are mumbled up somewhere in thought, but you and your scent have bugged my system and its screaming, "Error! Error! Cannot detect rational thought."

You and your scent have rendered me a primitive animal that is unable to make rational choices. One that bases decisions on primal urges, ignoring intelligent instinct and only heading to those our brainless ancestors used many millennium ago. You and your scent need to be flashed out of my system. You and your scent need to leave...

"Well the silence is heart breaking. Was it really that bad?'' your voice retrieves me back from my maze of thoughts. And like the people pleasing little rascal I am when my head isn't functioning at optimum, I instantly gratify you, "Oh it was very good! Best hot one night stand sex ever." Okay that last part was a bit erroneous considering the state I'm in. Maybe my rational side is starting to kick in, hmm so all I had to do was to distance myself from those intoxicating sheets filled with your fumes.

You maybe, just maybe feign a disappointed look and scoff, "One night stand? You thought this was that? Shelly after all we've been through!?" I stand there quiet and stare at you. I stare at that half of your gorgeous big body you've exposed by sitting up. Your eyes are scanning my bare body, maybe creating a mental image to put along-side your list of conquests. I'm now back to myself.

"Leave. Just leave," I say, scanning the room for my clothes. "What's up Shelly, you can tell me. What did I do wrong?" you whine desperately and descend from the bed, the sheets fall off and you become as exposed as I am. Some vile memories are triggered by that glorious sight but I block them, struggling to remain as I am. As I've always been and should forever be. A few slips here and there maybe, but my senses always come back. "Please Shelly, tell me what's wrong," you beg, it is becoming annoying.

"Lee sometimes the truth is better left unsaid. Don't construct a dam that you know can't hold across a raging river," I mumble. "What the hell are you talking about??" you ask, now approaching me. I must halt your steps.

"There's two ways this is going to end up. One I'd propose a contract whereby you and I engage in impersonal meaningless intercourse." I start, it works, you freeze, I proceed, "To facilitate that, I propose doing the deed either at your place or in some hotel far from here. There will be no foreplay, no kissing, no sexy talk and no caressing, just plain raw sex like the animals we are. And I shall be blind folded the entire time. We shall do this until one of us tires and decides to stop." I pause for dramatic effect. You look at me horrified.

I continue, "The second way this will go down is like this. You and I simply cut to the chase and just never see or speak to each other again. This plan is probably better." You poor fucker, you stand there confused. You blink so many times and clutch your head. I secretly relish your reaction. "How...how do you expect me to go along with any of that stuff? Why would you want such cold sex? Why would you want to end our friendship? You aren't this cold person, I know you aren't. So please tell me exactly what's wrong, why such vile proposals?" you finally speak.

"Nothing! I need not explain myself," I hiss. You watch as I gather up my clothes, put them on and exit. I wouldn't care about the if and the when you'll leave my place. For now I need to be far away from you, running from my primitive urge to attach myself onto you when you spark up my oxytocin levels after making me climax and leave your territorial musk on my sheets to spring up memories of your absent self...I don't want to be high on a drug whose supply I know will perish when you move on to other conquests. The sex was great though, would have loved to have more of it, but the detached kind, the impersonal kind, the kind that leaves you with fantasies for another wild demolition session and not the warm mushy cuddling in bed watching Netflix kind.

We ruined a good friendship and for what? One night of giving into primeval impulses after experiencing a traumatic day? I needed to feel safe and dominated, you needed to release tension and feel like you are in control again, simple psychology, let's not prolong this short fix any longer than it needs to be.

I head to the tow station to inquire if they've recovered my car from the bottom of the river where it had sank after veering off the bridge when some speeding lunatic hit against its rear the previous day. You and I had escaped unscathed, for we managed to get out of the sinking car and swim ashore but someone died, the lunatic speeding driver. Such horror, to come so close to death together, robbed us of any and all inhibitions. We became subject to our primitive selves, and here we are. Standing in the shattered pieces of a lifelong friendship. You are still the soulless crook that sleeps with any and everything female to give your ego a high like the primal male you are. And I'm still the scared little girl who detests any and every attachment, using all sorts of mechanisms to avoid the slightest bit of vulnerability. Nothing can change that.