For whatever reason, I keep my watch face down. Like…the clock part is on the underside of my wrist.
Every time I look down, it’s a haunting reminder. Most of the time, I think, “Oh. I used to cut. NBD.” Lately, though, it’s been, “Ohh…I used to cut myself,” and then my stomach drops and I get really uncomfortable.
If you’re in the position where you’re a slave to your emotions, get help. Get help now and talk to someone as soon as you can. I can testify. Fifteen months past quitting after four years of that shit…and the scars aren’t worth it.
Lets not forget about their toes curling, their eyes rolling to the back of their heads, or the body jerks and vibrations that occur when we pleasure them. It fuckin fuels my desire so much. Makes me wanna work as hard as I can to make her lose control and leave the bed soaked. Real talk.
Since I had to get up at 11ish for practice, I left Gabby sleeping in my bed. It was so cute to come home at 4 to find her still there and waiting on me. She was curled up with my cat and she was sleeping away. It’s comforting to lay here now knowing she was the last one in this place.