Inclined Chronicles of Indulgence

I have always wanted to elope away with the man I love. That's not the only reason I want to be with you. Every morning, when I wake up, I want to see you already looking at me, caressing my hair. I want to watch cheesy romantic movies every Saturday night with you, one leg on our sofa and another on you. I want to kiss you on your lips when I open my eyes every time after every sleep. I want to pamper you with soap bubbles and candles in the bathroom. I want to trim your beard and rub my cheeks to it. I want to prepare morning breakfasts wearing your shirts loving my silhouette body. I want to lick chocospread off your lips. I want to wait for you anxiously every day. I want to kiss you on forehead at the door when your office car hooks loud. I want to open the door when you return from work. I want to tap my toes to classic pianos and violins and jump to bass and guitar music with you. I want to dance salsa in trance with you. I want to drink wine to ...

Every time he said those three magical words, I replied in silence. When one is precautioned to not feel in certain way, one cannot help but feel so. I don't know how to stop myself against another name. I am not angry at him, but at time. I have no idea why time had to being him to me at a time I am  grounded and vulnerable. I hate for being such a wrong person  to him. I hate myself to be not able to who can make him happy. Luckily, at least out of practice, my mind voiced the apt reply every single time to him. Unfortunately,  silence cannot be heard over the phone. He thinks I have ego issues. What he doesn't know is I am trying to hold up my tiny fragments together to be able to find love in me to love him back, to find respect to adore him. I speak to him everyday for hours together. That certainly has hampered his preparation to join an institution for further studies, but he never complains. He seeks my support in decision making. What reply do I give him wh...

I write to you as a female who has bruises in parts she can't show. I am sorry to tell you that you are not the first man to come in my life. I cannot decide if you are the last. Most men, probably due to lack of insight, forgot to involve my spirit in the process of togetherness. They could not differentiate if I moan or I am asking for more. I am happy to tell you that you may be a virgin to start with, but I had my first orgasm in your bed. You did not abandon my body after rushing in. Wait, you didn't rush. I remember you asked at times if it is the right way. You make sure that nothing but happiness oozes out of me. The pain of intimacy became the source of joy for the first time, and yet, you let me win. You cared if I was hungry or thirsty. You didn't pull my hair as if it were a harness to gear me up. You take me into your arms and shame me for choosing to spare my time for nothing.  You have aroused my spirit every time you choose to kiss my forehead, n...