I Might Go Crazy

You didn't need to speak. You didn't want me to speak either. The silence was scary. It was cold and my fingers felt frostbitten. You wrapped your hand around mine like you had so many times before. Your hand was warm. Your touch almost felt like you were burning me. But I let your fingers graze my palm. "It is raining," I said as you touched me. You nodded and silently agreed. You shifted closer to me, causing the springs of my bed to groan. I didn't look at you, but I did look out my bedroom window. It was still raining.

"My dad is home," I said to you. Again, you just nodded, sweetly caressing my hand. "He isn't listening. He never listens." It rained harder as you raised you got even closer to me. You put your hand on my thigh. "The rain is calming, isn't it?" I asked. I knew you wouldn't answer, but I wasn't really asking you. "It is just so cold…" You put your hand on my jaw, softly turning my head to face you.

"Look at me," you said. And I did. You didn't talk much on that night. I guess I wasn't surprised, because you never talked that much. But either did I. Maybe that is why we were such a good match. We spoke with our eyes. We spoke a language no one else understood. But I knew you wanted to teach me to talk with my skin. I wanted to learn.

"I think I love you," I whispered. My words were crushed between our lips as you kissed me. Your lips were warm and mine were cold. I was learning. You were teaching me how to burn. The springs kept groaning as you got closer and closer until there wasn't a single empty space between our bodies. When we kissed, my brain was on mute. All I could hear was your breathing and my heartbeat. Your lips pulled away from me and I was lost again, looking to you for directions.

"Lay back," you told me. I did, falling back on a plush pillow. You laughed as I watched you. "Just relax," you said. "Everything is going to be fine." I nodded, trying to believe you. You leaned over and switched the lights off. "We aren't going to need those where we are going, tonight," you mumbled, lying on top of me. I held my breath as you kissed my neck in the darkness. The darkness. We were engulfed in the darkness.

I heard you fumbling with your own clothes, fumbling with the wrapper. I waited patiently until you were done. I watched the rain falling outside. I listened to my heartbeat, the groaning springs, and the football game my dad was watching downstairs. I didn't think. You didn't bother with my shirt, because really, it didn't matter. This wasn't about romanticism or anything. This was purely physical. That is how I wanted it.

You tugged at the button of my jeans, unzipping them. I lifted my body so you could pull them off with ease. Next went the underwear. I wanted you to whisper something to me. Maybe "I love you," or "You're my everything." But that doesn't happen in real life. In real life, no one says what they really think and everyone keeps their walls up. There is never a second of truth. I thought that maybe, just maybe, I would meet the real you when we got here. Maybe I would see a glimmer of the genuine you. But no. I couldn't have been more wrong.

You spread my legs so far that it hurt. You shoved yourself into me and I cried out in pain. You didn't ask if I wanted you to stop and you didn't try to calm me down. Because what would be the use of that? You just did what you were supposed to until you were done. And I just laid there wondering when it was going to be over. Wondering when it would feel good. It never did.

You got off me after awhile. You put on your jeans. You muttered something about calling me later and you left. You didn't turn the lights back on when left. I just stayed in my spot, lying in a puddle of the fresh blood of a soiled virgin's war banner. I folded my hands and looked out the window thinking that I might go crazy. I might absolutely lose my mind, trying to figure you out in this insane world.

I looked out the window. It was still raining.