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And of course there's the one at play here: physical touch.
Some people show love with touch. Cuddles, kisses, hugs, fucks.
He doesn't mention the typical love languages. He sticks to his unique take. "Horny colors are one thing. If you start talking about pointillism or perspective"—he presses his hands to his heart—"I'll be a goner."
"I'll try to go easy on you."
"I appreciate it." He smiles. "How about a movie if you don't want to talk?"
"My pick?"
"Anything you desire."
"Even something with subtitles?"
"Especially something with subtitles. Remote is on the coffee table. Rent something if you want."
"Rent? Are you made of money?"
"Basically." He laughs and motions… something. Then he slips into the bathroom.
That's it. I need to wrap up… whatever I'm doing here.
I publish my entry, and I close my computer.
ChapterEleven
"Get In, Get Off, Go Home"
Posted by Hearts and Thorns
Monday
2 A.M.
It turns out casual sex is a little more complicated than get in, get off, go home.
Go figure.
But then, how would I know?
I've never had good sex before. Not really. Sure, there were good kissers in high school. There was even the boy in the band (I know, I know, I'm a cliché) who rubbed my thigh over my jeans in a way that made my entire body buzz.
I wanted him so, so badly.
And then I had him—in a high school way—and I had enough. It was fine. We dated a few more weeks. I realized he only had two moves. Great moves, sure, but they still got old.
We broke up without a lot of fuss. I found someone else. Normal high school stuff.
The one time I tried on a relationship (a real, multiple months, meet the parents kind of relationship), it felt like a swimsuit two sizes too big.
It was useful as an extra practice suit, for creating drag in the pool, but otherwise?
It just didn't fit.
Still, I stayed, for a long time. I didn't know better. I didn't know how we were supposed to fit together. I didn't know sex could be better than okay. (After all, that excitement I felt when I was a teenager came with teenage hormones. And, sure, I wasn't exactly old, but I was old enough).
It's true, I didn't share, but he didn't leave the space for me. He took it instead.
