In Another Life

We were heavy breathing on the floor. Sweat dripping from my forehead and my legs trembling but my core was yearning for more. I could see it in his eyes he wanted more as well but it wasn't what I truly wanted. I wanted our lips to fully embrace each other and softly communicate with each other without speaking. He wanted to kiss and tongue my throat deep. I wanted to caress his body figure with my love and adoration for the way he was built and formed, and all his scars made by life. He wanted to manhandle my boobs and ass. I wanted to give my soul for his soul in return. He wanted to fuck. I knew what I had was not what I deserved. I didn't control what he had with me. I didn't own any part of the relationship. HE owned the relationship. I was just a figure in the idea of what relationship meant for him. I knew he was bad for me on so many levels. I just loved him too much to actually consider what I truly needed and deserved for myself. There really wasn't anything else I could do. I had to end things between him and I. I was addicted and he was my drug. His face, his eyes, his lips, his smell. I couldn't let go of him, but I was forced to. We weren't meant to be. Maybe the idea of how I could have changed his stubborn mind was what brought us together. I'm not sure anymore. I'm tired of waiting for someone to actually see me as more than a just a body and see me as the rest of their life.