Send nudes. This line has been consuming the minds of the youth as of today.
Asking for bare bodies angled on a perfect figure and with perfect lighting. Begging to have a portrait of your innermost flaws covered and edited.
This very famous line is what we, millennials, made so we can entertain ourselves, prove our worth to somebody, and clarify that we are better than everyone else.
Unwanted videos and photos going around the internet posted by people who asked for it but couldn’t handle the truth. Couldn’t handle that a person can be so raw, so pure, so beautiful that they could just dismiss the idea of them as soon as they’re done admiring.
Then one night, there’s this guy who messaged me on one of my social media accounts, “Do you send nudes?”
Do I? Yes, I do. I send nudes and by that I mean, I send my soul. I’ll be sending you my darkest secrets, my deepest fears, my childhood memories and how my father let us down.
I’ll send you things about me, monsters, with claws ready to eat you alive.
I’ll be sending you my tears, how I got my heart broken and how the world has betrayed me so many times in the past.
I’ll send you the bottles I drowned myself in, the pills I took so I didn’t have to wake up the next day, the pillow that listened to my every nightmare and the blanket that hugged me through cold dark nights.
Hell, I’ll even send you pictures of my scars and how I got them, even every mole in every part of my body.
I’ll send you the skeleton inside my closet that I’ve been keeping from the world, terrified that no one would accept.
I’ll send you my dreams and how they are always shattered. I will lay them all to you on a kitchen table, on a bathtub, in front of a bathroom mirror, on top of a bed covered with roses and lingeries I never liked.
We’ll be sexting all night long. I’ll go down on you while you lick away my fears. I’ll tell you how much I long for your touch and how much I want you inside me to cleanse my soul.
How do you want it? Do you want it sugarcoated? Do you want my hair up? Do you prefer fully naked or do you want me in lace underwear?
I don’t care, honey. It’s the barest of welcomes, but it’s a welcome nonetheless. Welcome to my so-called “nudes.”
I can be your nightmare dressed as a Disney princess. Or I can not be dressed at all.
I promise you, you’ll be entertained. But for how long? How long until my nudes are too much? How long until it’s enough? When will it ever be enough?
I might even fall in love with you along the way but are you ready for it? Tell me. Are you going to post them for everyone to see and leave me dry because I’m too much for you?
Or are you willing to send me back your nudes and trust me that maybe I can handle yours too?
Be careful what you ask for because you just might get it.