Some questions are best left unasked. Lying in bed, after he had made love to me, softly, so carefully, almost sadly, quietly he announced he had to leave in the morning. I sat up suddenly, the chill of shock awakening my dulled senses.

“Why’s that?”

“I’d best go, this isn’t going anywhere.”

“This?”I was instantly constricted. Unable to breath let alone think. I waited, silently praying not to hear what I knew was about to be said.

“Us.” he said calmly, his blue eyes hardening.

“us” I whispered, wishing that ‘us’ had not just been ripped apart, shattered beyond repair. “Why?”

“You, are not right for me.” he said, “I should go now…”

I’m not right for you? But… you just made love to me!?” I felt dirty, inadequate.

“Just making sure, you know?”

“No!” I cried out in anger. “I don’t know, you bastard!”  then suddenly quiet again,  “What’s wrong with me?” he looked up, resentment ran through my voice like a blade.

“I hope we can be friends?” his brow furrowed with self-concern, he’d assumed I’d roll over.  How right he was, we were not suited, his hateful arrogance and manipulation had me spinning around him to his whim. Humiliated, I clutched the quilt, wishing he hadn’t made me respond to him; desire him quite so much. My mind reeling, hurting, trying to think how this might be fixed yet wanting to rip his eyes out, I knew I had been used.

“No… That isn’t going to happen. Ever. Get out of my house.” he shrugged, his arrogance carrying him, he left.   I dissolved into angry, wet tears, splashing down my face.

I sat there for hours, crying. Finally exhausted and cried out I keeled over and fell into a restless sleep, resolved at least, to start again.

Salt Water

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