I wake up groggy and confused about how I made it to my room last night. It takes me a few seconds to remember the feeling of security, muscular arms around me, the ocean breeze blowing my hair around, gruff reassurances. And when I swallow and realize my throat is sore from Benny’s use of my mouth, my gaze shoots to the adjoining door, my fingers curling into the sheets, pulse starting to flutter wildly. Benny.
There is an absence of tension in my body that has left me light in some ways, heavy in others. Heavy, because Benny obviously doesn’t see us having a viable relationship. I’m probably just a kid to him with unrealistic feelings. Light, because…
What Benny gave me last night?
I’ve been empty without it. Ownership. An authority figure.
I arch my back on the mattress and allow my
