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The familiar ache of loneliness tugs at my insides, and any excitement I might’ve had from my earlier Miles fantasy evaporates instantly.My eyes prick with tears, but I tamp them down with practiced skill and move with determination to my backpack.Distraction almost always works when I start to feel this way.And this time is no different.Within a few minutes, I have all my assignments laid out in neat, organized piles, my multicolored pens at the ready and my planner open to this week’s to-do list.
I quickly get lost in communications assignments, a reading for my English class, and the essay reflection for the first week of my internship.When everything is done, I blink, my eyes bleary with that gritty sand feeling I get when I’ve been working too long at my computer.I knew it was getting late when I had to turn on the lamp I keep next to my desk, but a glance at my phone tells me it’s already past midnight.I rub my tired eyes and stand up, stretching my aching back and my arms hoping to release some of the tightness that’s developed from hours in one position.It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten that lost in my assignments.
My stomach grumbles loudly reminding me that I haven’t eaten since lunch, so I grab my phone and make my way through my condo to the kitchen in order to warm up some leftovers.While they’re in the microwave, I read a missed text from Rikki that she sent around my usual bedtime.
Rikki: Don’t forget to rub one out to relieve some of that stress.It’ll work wonders.I believe in you!
I shake my head at her last sentence, but smile, nonetheless.She knows how hard intimacy of any kind—even with myself—has been since that night three years ago.But she’s never lost faith that someday I’ll have a normal sex life.I wish I had the same faith she did.
An image of Miles enters my mind again and I nibble my lip, wondering if maybe I could do it this time.My body responds to him in ways it’s never responded to anyone else.What if he could be the key to unlocking this metaphorical jail cell I’ve been trapped in?
I eat dinner mindlessly, lost in my thoughts and wondering if maybe the trick all along has just been to find someone I was physically attracted to.Although that doesn’t explain why I’ve not been able to touch myself.I continue to ponder what makes Miles so different and why I’m so drawn to him as I finish eating, rinse my plate, and then make my way to my room.
My curiosity is starting to outweigh my trepidation.
Lying on my bed, I close my eyes and let my body sink into my plush mattress—the scent of the lavender tucked in my pillowcase hits me, offering the same comfort it always does.I can feel each muscle in my body relaxing into the bed as my mind clears of all thoughts except for Miles Tallon and his coffee-colored eyes.That tingle that only he seems to stir starts pulsing between my legs, and my breath stutters in my lungs at the new sensation.My lips quirk up at the edges just slightly at the relief that I can feel this at all.
I’m not broken.
I slide my hand over my belly and up to my breasts.My shirt dulls the sensation, but it feels like a safer start than skin on skin.The nerves just beneath my skin seem to light up with each gentle caress of my fingers, and before long, my breathing picks up speed as my arousal dampens that space between my thighs.Feeling brave, I finally slide my hand down my pants, under my underwear, over the soft triangle of hair—oddly enough the pain of waxing has never been an issue—above that point between my legs that is now pulsing with the beat of my heart.
My fingers skate over the bundle of nerves and I inhale sharply, an acute bolt of pleasure striking across my body.With renewed determination, I continue to rub my clit with just the right amount of pressure that seems to make the pleasure heighten.My body tenses the closer I get to that elusive thing I’ve heard so much about but never experienced myself.The peak nears, and the surge of euphoria that comes from knowing any minute I’m going to tip over the edge and finally experience an orgasm heats my blood.
But then the soothing rich brown of Miles’s eyes turns into a nameless pair of icy blues, and any pleasure evaporates faster than I can snap my fingers.My body tenses in something completely different from pleasure—fear.I rip my hand out of my underwear and open my eyes, my chest heaving and sweat already glistening along my skin.My heart is beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, and within seconds of opening my eyes, the tears are falling.
I couldn’t control them if I tried.Rolling over, I sob into my comforter until my body feels worn out, world-weary, and broken.
More broken than ever before.
Any fantasy of Miles quickly seems like the biggest joke of all.Who could ever love someone as broken as me?He’d never even give me the time of day once he found out I can’t let a man touch me without falling apart.
Hell, I can barely touch myself.
I tell myself I’m allowed one night to let it all out.To not try to be so strong all the time.So, for the first time in a long time, I let everything bleed out of me through my tears.All the anger, frustration, and blame—athimfor doing this to me, at Miles for making me feel a hint of what’s possible but so far out of my reach, and at myself because there are days I still feel like this was my fault.Like if I hadn’t gone to that party, or been in that room, or smiled at that boy, then none of this would be happening.
Then I wouldn’t be broken.
