January 1, 2011
By Anonymous

How can I explain what my feelings are if I do not know? How can you expect me to give you what you ask for when I cannot? Do you not know how much it hurts me to tell you no, when all I have ever be taught to say is yes? Deep within my heart the aching for love that is far away from me throbs. My head prickles with the feeling of needles as you close the distance between our skin. I push you away, again. Your eyes plead with me to relinquish my hesitation, to give myself to you, even when you know it is completely wrong. Here before me is love; love that you are offering to give to me, but I cannot, will not, accept. Fear travels up my spine in sharp stabs of icy pain that run through my veins.

This time you do not force me, but almost beg for my cooperation. Still, at the same time, your hands are not gentle upon my skin, and I soon find my arms are pinned above me once more. Pouting lips quiver in terror from reminder of dark memory. Lost in a sea of exploding synapses, I laugh softly. “Not this again?” Even though my words are playful, I lace them with guilt, accusation, and a large dose of fear.
His response is quick, and he gives me a choice, all the while not waiting for an answer. “Only if you want it.” Kisses that are both soft but demanding trail down my neck. An involuntarily gasp, accompanied by a soft moan escapes my throat. Trying to lift my arms out of your grasp I find that you are using more force than I anticipated, almost as much as last time. Tear ducts that long ago ran dry threaten to flow with salty river waters and spill down the red of blood flushed cheeks. In response to my struggle you hold tighter, and pain triggers send waves of shock throughout my body. Whatever misconstrued idea I had of being in control crumbles into a pile of dust that leaves me with no hope.
An idea strikes, I freeze- and so does he. My lack of response makes him wary. "Whats wrong?" Voicing words of apology, and regret he pulls away, but still holds me close to him. I smile, fear fading.
Later, he tries again but I hold the upper hand and am able to keep him at bay. Now, knowing that he is different, if even only slightly, I agree to see him again. For once my trust in a second chance is not betrayed.

The author's comments:
A second encounter with a certain someone.

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