There’s a certain moment I live for. The moment after the seduction is complete, and I have him panting, naked, on my bed sheets. The moment before we fuck.
I can’t have real relationships anymore, I don’t need them. I found a substitute for a lasting relationship. To be specific, it’s the length of time, about twenty seconds - give or take - starting when his back hits the mattress and I hover over him, breathing, drinking in his flushed skin and looking past his eyes into his hidden, primal, nature. It ends, as it always does, with a questioning glance. He asks me if I will continue, and I will tell him “no” and ask him to leave. The disappointment. The attraction that bore hints of a promising relationship, or at the very least, gives one a reason to stay away from their own bed tonight. I love watching their reaction. I love how it varies between each man. I love the moment when they realize they hate me.
I don’t think I’m a masochist. And I highly doubt that I’m a sadist. There’s just this overwhelming euphoria, this absolute ecstasy, that lies behind letting someone down. It’s a drug that I crave, that I need. I tie the tourniquet as I enter the bar and press down on the plunger each and every time I hear them ask, “Why’d you stop?”
Sometimes they get angry. Sometimes they slap me. Sometimes they cry. My favorite, however, is when they stay silent. The unsaid words, the muffled curses, my imagination runs wild wondering what thoughts are coursing through their mind. Who do they blame? Is it me? Do they shoulder the burden of responsibility themselves? There are so many questions that I wish I could have the answer to as I see the quiet ones leave my apartment, almost as silent as they had entered. Their receding backs act like a peephole into society. If I strain my eyes, I can see how a normal relationship begins. I can see how they would have smiled at me, how we could have enjoyed the table for two I have perpetually on reserve at some nameless restaurant. But they will never know that. They will never know what I have to offer. And I will never give them the chance to find out.
Because you see, there’s a rush of endorphins at that moment. That moment between lust and love. Between first kiss and first fuck. It surges and overrides everything in my brain and I can’t see and I can’t think and he’ll walk out the door and I’ll wonder to myself: maybe he was the one who could have set me straight.
And then I’ll laugh and go to sleep.
The suits in my closet are always expertly pressed. I’m leaving for the bar tonight. I’m searching for the moment between human connection.
For you see, I can switch my polarity at will, and I can attract and repel whoever it is that I desire.
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