In light of my recent breakup, I've fallen behind on my writing. Several writings have arisen since to catch me up. This is the third. Free form:
I got out of bed before 5p today, so that was good.
Looked at guys' dating profiles online: no one interesting.
I masturbated (I needed to) and thought about him
and all the times he told me he loved me while we made love.
I remembered the first time we had sex and he asked me if it felt shared or like I was being fucked.
It was important to him to know that I felt loved, that I knew the difference.
When I finished, I looked out the window at the beautiful sky
and whispered "why did you do this to me?" as I softly cried.
#NaPoWriMo2016
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