Somewhere in between having a day off after a 60 hour work week and a couple drinks, I woke up in new sheets, not alone, and with the flu. He kissed me on the mouth, gently, and left. I consciously thought, “finally,” but only because the room was spinning and my entire body was aching and I wanted to come and take a bath and get advil.  All that are easier when alone in your bed at four am.  

There is purple and light green sprawling out on the back of my hips and on my inner thighs, this is completely non reflective of our night; everything was gentle and yet my body responded weirdly and too sensitively, I’m covered in bruises. I resent the way alcohol makes me warm but completely dry. Mentally soaked, physically parched.  It makes me want to feel everything but everything feels numb and muted. To feel anything at all it has to be harder and deeper and louder.  I recall pushing down on his hands with my own, now they’re imprinted on me.

He smells like someone I want to be near for a very long time and I keep burying myself in my pillows to smell him.