That is the only way I can describe myself at this point. That is the only way I can describe the need and desire I have for her. That is the only way I can conclude that maybe I haven't chosen the best alternative. If only I hadn't seen her today after all these months of preparation and failed attempts to forget her, maybe I would've been able to keep my dignity, my respect for myself.
Maybe... such a subjective word.
I couldn't resist.
I kissed her, in one of the numerous barely lit living rooms of the Milazzo Estate. I tasted her, I felt her, I desire her, I miss her... still. So many unrewarding nights of trying to get her out of my head, trying not to think about her, all the time, everytime. Making an effort to simply NOT think about her whenever I engaged in sexual endeavors with Philippa... her voice, her whimpers, her kitten-like smile, and all I did was throw it out the window. But I can't get that God forsaken woman out of my bloody head.
How could I just stand there, motionless as that weasel Henry flirted with her? How could I just dismiss her as she did me, with a mere glance?
I don't want to miss her. I don't want to think that I made the wrong choice, I don't. I don't want to believe that I am a mess because of her. I don't want to believe that this woman is making me a jealous man. A man that has no power or possession over this woman, whatsoever. What is my PROBLEM then?!
I am not programmed to feel regret. I never have... yet ever since we've stopped talking, it's all I've been feeling. Regret. Remorse. Day in and day out. Questioning myself.
No.
This can't happen again. Even so, as I write this, I know this is a vicious cycle I won't be able to break. Because I don't want to break it. Because what I saw in her eyes... just spurs me on.
...what am I doing?
Maybe... such a subjective word.
I couldn't resist.
I kissed her, in one of the numerous barely lit living rooms of the Milazzo Estate. I tasted her, I felt her, I desire her, I miss her... still. So many unrewarding nights of trying to get her out of my head, trying not to think about her, all the time, everytime. Making an effort to simply NOT think about her whenever I engaged in sexual endeavors with Philippa... her voice, her whimpers, her kitten-like smile, and all I did was throw it out the window. But I can't get that God forsaken woman out of my bloody head.
How could I just stand there, motionless as that weasel Henry flirted with her? How could I just dismiss her as she did me, with a mere glance?
I don't want to miss her. I don't want to think that I made the wrong choice, I don't. I don't want to believe that I am a mess because of her. I don't want to believe that this woman is making me a jealous man. A man that has no power or possession over this woman, whatsoever. What is my PROBLEM then?!
I am not programmed to feel regret. I never have... yet ever since we've stopped talking, it's all I've been feeling. Regret. Remorse. Day in and day out. Questioning myself.
No.
This can't happen again. Even so, as I write this, I know this is a vicious cycle I won't be able to break. Because I don't want to break it. Because what I saw in her eyes... just spurs me on.
...what am I doing?
1 comment:
It spurs him... uhh... how manly! hihi.
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