It does not matter how it begins.
The ending is always the same.
By
Updated 5 years ago,October 11, 2020
It starts as these things usually do.
Gabriela Pereira
We make eye contact from across the room.
I knew what I was doing when I stood in front of the mirror earlier in the evening.
I dont admit as much to myself, but I wanted attention from someone like you.
Go ahead, tell me Im wrong.
I cant help but lift the corners of my mouth and youre already smiling at me.
What are you drinking?You bite all too quickly.
Or maybe that isnt at all how it goes down.
You tell me I dont seem drunk at all, and I tell you I can hold my own.
We walk back inside and you ask me what my favorite shot is.
I pull back and wink and bite my lip.
It does not matter how it begins.
There is something dangerous about this, something exhilarating, something that makes my heart beat faster.
And sometimes, just sometimes, on the bad days, theres something a little sad.
It gets heavier the panting, the kissing, the grinding.
Im trying to fight you off of me long enough to take off my dress.
Youre so fucking hot.
Sometimes you’ve got the option to all be so painfully predictable.
You kiss me harder.
Grind a little harder.
I forget to fake it for maybe two or five seconds.
You look at me and ask,What are you thinking?
That no man Ive met has been worth the fortune.
What am I thinking?
Right now Im thinking you look sharp enough to be a substitute for a single-edge razor blade.
How Im sure Ive never been seen by anyone who has laid a hand on my body.
But the truth is that maybe no one sees me because I am too damned good at hiding.
Sometimes I just need to be drunker.
Sometimes I live for the fucking bender.
Sometimes I just need to feel anything other than hollow.
If I cannot be seen, then I sure as fuck will be felt.
Dont get me wrong, I love this, whats happening between you and me in this moment.
In this moment, my pulse isnt playing hooky with my wrist again.
I have no regrets, no shame, and no guilt.
Doing what were doing right now is what our bodies were made for.
Its certainly what I was made for.
You ask me what Im thinking and I dont say anything, I move my hips, instead.
You call mebabyand I venture to ignore it because I truly hate you calling me this.
I dont stop to care about how I may or may not feel tomorrow.
In the morning, you ask for my number, and I dont bother wondering if you will call.
I make it outside and ask him for a light.
