He touched me.
How long have I been waiting to say that?
I know that it was all to prove myself, to myself,
prove that I wasn’t unwanted, at least not entirely.
I had such hubris,
hanging onto video calls until three in the morning,
giving out dolls of hearts and loves and cravings
I want you here,
I said.
I want you now.
These were my playthings.

I was smart, to someone. I was funny. I could be mean and I was still funny.
He said I made him feel better about himself.
I’ll apologize sometime.

At least now I can assume I’ll never be alone, 
while I still have tight skin on my face
and a wounded heart
I want Only You to heal.
Intimately, if that’s not so much trouble.
I will be touched.