Truth in the Empty Spaces

I am a person who thrives on the empty spaces, who feeds off of the things that I cannot have.

My heart is pounding, my skin is burning. Since this has come to pass, all I can think of now is that I want you in my bed. I wish I could tune my mind to something else, wish I could occupy myself in some way that would make this fade to black. But it won't go.

This is not love, not me falling into emotional jeopardy. This is me, raw, at my most primal, my most animalistic. This is me imagining you - naked and by my side. This is wanting beyond wanting, drive beyond chemistry. It is almost violent in its intensity. It is by its nature a primitive drive and there is nothing in my evolved brain that can quell it; no matter what thoughts I use to cover it, it will swell and rise up again to take over any ideas or thoughts or emotions. It is a desire like no other.

There are many who have brought me pleasure but none who've brought this type of pain. There is some element of enjoyment I derive from it, that I derive simply from the pain of wanting you so badly. Another time with you will not stop the wanting, it will only make it stronger, only drive the pain further into me.

In spite of every warning to the contrary, I cannot stop this. My brain will tell me no, but everything else in my body tells me yes. I have to have you, I have to bring you into me. This is a feeling like no other. It keeps me up at night and spins my head by day.

I cannot tolerate another minute without your body. I cannot continue to pretend. I cannot continue to ignore it. If I have to, I will beg. You have me on my knees. This lust has broken my will.