You’re Worth More: When He Only Wants What He Can’t Have

Manhattan / Amazon.com
Manhattan / Amazon.com

I dreamt about you again last night. I woke up in a haze, panting, in a mess of purple sheets, damp with sweat. My mind was swirling with the last image of you in my mind. Tall, always handsome, dark hair a mess above your hazel eyes, the sweep of your eyelashes turned down to focus…not on me, on a friend of mine. I saw the way you looked at her and spoke to her and I could tell you respected her. I saw the way you flirted with her and laughed at all her jokes and I stayed to watch, even though I knew there was no place for me. Maybe I knew it was a dream so I could sit here and be in your presence and it would be enough. Maybe I knew that when I woke up I would have to remember that you’re gone. But gone would imply that you left, and you never left; you just stopped. Stopped talking to me, stopped sleeping with me – did the one thing I asked you not to do and started avoiding me. And every time I have to drive by your house now, I ache. Even knowing there won’t be any sort of anything for us, I still ache. I know I gave myself to you too quickly, too eagerly. I know I hardly gave you any sort of a chase at all. Was it so wrong for me to want something so badly? Was it so wrong for me to want it just as badly as you did? Was it so wrong for me to know what I want and reach for what I want and take what I want?

If given the chance again today, I would say no. I would tip my chin up to look at you and you would bend down and your breath would graze my lips and I would hold myself there for that one split second of heart break and I would look you in the eyes and I would very firmly whisper a simple, “No.” Not because I wouldn’t want to kiss you, not because my breasts don’t strain for the skim of your rough fingers, not because my waist doesn’t seem to curve perfectly against the palms of your hands. No – because I want you to know that I am worth more. You’re the kind of person that only wants what he can’t have, and when I say no, it will drive you crazy. You’ll start to wonder where I am and what I’m doing. You’ll start to dream about me every night. You will torture yourself, wondering why I said no. God, I want to drive you crazy. I want to drive you so crazy that you’ll wonder what’s wrong with you. You’ll wonder why you are the way that you are, why you keep packing the Thermopylae wall of your heart with your Persian girls, the girls who saw something in you, who dared to think they could love you, could change you. Me, I don’t need to change you. I just want you. I want you but I won’t share you.

I know you’re sleeping with another woman; maybe a few other women. Maybe you were sleeping with them at the same time as me, who knows? I slept with another man, too, towards the end of our “involvement.” I felt guilt, yes, but then I stopped feeling guilt. Why should I? You never laid claim to me and so I never gave myself entirely to you. I know you never shut yourself off from the advances of any women so why should I shut myself off from the advances of any men? Does it anger you that I did the same thing to you that you’re doing to me? But I stopped. I could only think of you in the final throes for so long before I realized that I couldn’t do it any longer. I’ve decided to stop, for a long, long time, maybe forever. The next time I sleep with someone it will mean something, and it will be between me and a man who has chosen me and only me. A man who wants to get to know more about me, not just my friends; a man whose eyes don’t grow glazed and distant every time I start to talk about my life. A man who can handle his own feelings, instead of running away and burying himself inside another woman.

I’m not going to beg you to let me come back into your bed. The question was asked, you made your choice and the answer wasn’t me. TC mark

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