Oh. She has posted something. She hasn't posted anything for
ages and ages. I am not sure if she knows how talented she is, because she is
one of the best writers I have ever come across.
Wow, her writing has improved. Perhaps all this time away
has allowed it to mature and grow. I see that she is still writing dark twisted
tales. Delicious darkness. She has so much shade inside her I love it, I always
have. It is what drew me to her in the first place; the talent and the depth
inside her. She never saw it, women like that never do, they see all their
faults and have had people around them who drag them down.
I have seen it thousands of times. That's why women flock to
me. I pay them attention, throw around a few compliments, show them that they
are beautiful then they are eating out of the palm of my hands. Simple really.
I love the envious looks I get from other men as these women fawn over me.
These men see that I have a beautiful woman with eyes for no one else and I can
see them puzzled as to why they are with me. This feeling feeds me, it makes me
feel strong and powerful when really I am non descript looking: 5'6", slim
build, bald, snaggled toothed, usually wearing a grey suit having come straight
from the office and a fag in my hand. Average, that is how I have been
described, I look average. With these women, with her I am not average,
anything but.
I have always loved women, having my first sexual encounter
at the tender age of 12, fingering a girl in her bedroom, smelling her scent on
my digits. That is still something that I adore doing. I remember doing that to
her, my writer, watching her writhe under me, seeing her so willingly submit to
my dominant desires. She has soft flesh, smooth skin that reacts to well to my
touch. The way she arches her back, yearning for me. A tight hold and tug on
her hair and she is mine, utterly mine. Of course, I look after her, watching
what she posts, looking out for scumbags that will hit on her. Special people
like her need to be protected, she is such a free spirit and so trusting that
people will take advantage of her.
Things got a bit weird between us towards the end of our
relationship. She described me as toxic, a bit harsh as I was only looking out
for her. I will admit that I am a jealous guy, despite my bravado I was worried
that someone would steal her away from me. I kept testing her, seeing if she
would be where she said she would, showing up unexpectedly, deliberately standing
her up; all proof that she was still true to me. After a few months of this I
found out that she had been on a dating website. I didn't have the app of
course but I read the emails. Perhaps she should have put a stronger password
on it. She went mental when she found out and threatened to never speak to me
again but I have to look out for her and we had a tumultuous relationship where
she we split up and got back together over and over again. She said that I
drove her to do it and that I drove her away, I didn't mean to, I just wanted
to know that she loved me. Except that time she meant it. That was three years
ago, all history.
I was relegated to the benches, to use sporting parlance,
all I could do was watch. I saw her date a few guys, all of course were
completely inappropriate, watch her go quiet online as she does when her heart
is hurting. Why do women like that go for weak men? How can they not see their
value? I wanted to speak to her, occasionally I would drive past her house and
see the light on in her living room. I even got as far as to get out of the car
and go to her front door but something stopped me. I want her to choose me, I
ache for her to choose me. I have spent three years watching out for her,
guarding over her. I don't really mind if we can only be friends, at least then
we can see each other again. I can touch her again. Smell her perfume again.
Now I see her back online writing again and my heart skips a
beat. She truly is magnificent.
I know that she said for me never to contact her again but I
am sure that one message won't hurt. One DM on twitter.
Me: You are writing
again..hope it's ok to have read and grinned.
Her: You will have to
remind me who you are. I have been away for so long.
Of course, I chuckle to myself, I changed my twitter handle.
She doesn't recognise me.
Me: I know you
have..it's the one who promised never to contact you again but sod it cos you
got deep dark writing going on again and that's brilliant.
My heart is racing. I hope she realises it's me. I hope she
wants me. Just to be talking to her is thrilling and sexy.
Her: Tony?
Me: Yes..me..hello
you.
Yes! She does recognise me.
She is keeping me waiting, perhaps me messaging has taken
her by surprise. She always had the kindest of hearts, it was both her greatest
asset and her greatest failing. Perhaps we can go for coffee and talk about old
times. Perhaps I can hold her again. A kiss possibly; would that be too much to
ask?
Her: Fuck off. Fuck
right off. Never contact me again or I will call the police!
Jesus! Well that didn't go as expected. All I wanted to do
was talk to her, tell her how fabulous she is and that she is writing again. Wow
that hurt, that was like a punch in the chest. Now I feel angry, cross at her,
all I ever did was look after her, look out for her. Is that the gratitude I
get from her? Fucking bitch.
