FROM ME TO MY HEARTBEAT

I can remember the first day I really saw you, something happened in my heart even though at that point my head was mess. I can remember the way my eyes lit up when I saw you. You were wearing a white shirt and black pants and you had a suit jacket in your hands. You spoke rapidly and it made me laugh. I loved how mysterious you seemed. I loved how you sounded - a little cocky, a little unsure, a little funny, a little rude - I loved the way your eyes squeezed when you laughed; the tiny marks that built beside your eyes. But then, that was the first time I really saw you. I didn't know I would come to love you more. I didn't know that one day I would lie on a chair and think of your skin that is free of hair, smooth as honey, caramel in color. I didn't know I would come to masturbate to the thoughts of you, fucking me from behind. I didn't know that even after you tell me I am not good enough for you, I would still have the strongest urge to write about you, to be with you, to laugh with you. Sometimes, I ask if I regret ever meeting you? But the truth is, no matter how much hurt it caused me, how much insult you gave me, and how much ripping you did to my self confidence. Loving you was the closest thing I felt to living, to feeling, and to being a woman.