Midway through our relationship, he had told me that whenever we had sex, he needed to think of other girls in order to stay hard. He told me everyone did it
I wake up the next morning with the sensation that my lips weigh ten pounds and are about to drop off my face. I’m too scared to look in the mirror,
“What’s so horrible about being able to take all the emotions you don’t want to feel and just vomit them out of you, and then you’re clean, you’re done with them, you’re numbed out and high?”
“What’s so horrible about being able to get high on your own emptiness, on your strength and your willpower, on your superiority, on how you’re able to get by on so little, you may as well be made of air?”
