my legs struggle with every step i take toward the apartment. i stumble as i try to make it up the stairs and to the door.
when i think i'm at the right place i bang my knuckles against the wood.
my hand wipes my face as i await for an opening. soon the sound of small noises from the door knob is heard and the door comes to an ajar.
"hi, joba." i slur with a smile.
"where were you?" he asks sternly.
"out and places."
"did you do something stupid?"
"when have i ever?" i ask teasingly.
"everyday since you've ever step foot into my life." he responds.
i can tell he's hurt. if i'm being honest that felt like getting stabbed in the heart by someone you love..literally.
i purse my lips and stay quiet for a moment. my drunk mindset isn't exactly one hundred so i do what i would normally do. i manipulate.
"i'll go if you want me to." i'll say until they get guilty. then, they would invite me into their house and it would end up turning into some type of make out session.
"i-i can go if you want me to." i stutter as i point my thumb somewhere behind me. i watch him sigh as he rolls his bottom lip under his top lip.
"no, stay." he says as his voice quivers.
he invites me into his apartment and closes the door shut once i enter.
he goes to sit down on the small couch and i follow shortly after.
theres a tension between us. it's horrible. he messes around with his fingers. he's nervous and uncomfortable.
"come here." i say softly as i open my arms so he can cling onto me comfortably. he looks at me sadly before coming closer and hugging my torso. his cheek again my chest.
i kiss the top of his head multiple times before he lifts his head once he gains and falls back into the trust he had.
i reaches up and grabs my face and connects our lips. my hands roam the sides of his torso and hips.
"i'm so sorry." i mumble in between breaths.
"shut up." my replies and his grip gets a bit tighter on my head as my brings me closer.
my hands slip underneath his shirt and that's when the vibe escaped. he jolts backward and pushes me off of him.
"what the fuck?" i question as i wipe my mouth.
"s-sorry, i-i don't like to be touched there." he says referring to his abdomen.
"why not?" i hiss in annoyed tone.
"long story."
"pretty sure we have enough time." i remark.
he shifts himself to where his legs are crossed and his back is up straight.
"i had this-well, i knew a guy who was just horrible," he says,
"so, he had never respected me. i don't even know why i dated him."
he gulps before adding onto what he was saying, "he would touch me in places that i did not want to be touched in and soon i had enough of it and i fought back, but he won and i felt lost for about a year," he quivers,
"it's my trauma."
i dart my eyes toward the floor and at him. this story makes me feel guilty. he obviously has enough trust in me to even tell me that story, but also this mystery dude reminds me a bit of me. i treat joba bad. i don't respect him. i toy with his emotions and pass the boundaries.
"i don't know what to say," i whisper.
"i'm so sorry that happened to you. someone like you doesn't deserve that."
he smiles at me softly before going back to messing around with his fingers and picking at the hangnails.
"you got any advil?" i ask due to the pounding of my head.
"yeah, be right back." he says before leaving me guilty on the couch alone to get something that'll keep me feeling good which is not something i've been so great at when it comes to him.
he comes back and hands me two pills and gives me a glass of water to take with it. i take the pills quickly and down the water left in the spotless cup.
"thank you." i say and you hum in response.
thank you for being so good to me even though i keep fucking around with you and not taking your feelings and you being a human being into an actual consideration. thank you for being strong even though you keep falling into my tricks. thank you for teaching me what love really is.
i'm sorry.
