I didn't think I'd see her again so soon. She went away last November, and I hadn't planned on seeing her again for quite some time.
A sudden flurry of emails, texts and phone calls this last month...why me? Why were people making me deal with her again? I hate that people want me to use her again. I hate the reminder of what they put me through. Sometimes I think I still hate her. So resentful. Few know why. Some should know why, but probably don't realise it. Few knew of my wrath. I'm so angry with all I had to go through; feels like it was all for nothing.
And yet, when I held her last week, for the first time in what felt like forever, I remembered. It's been 5 months. But I remember. I remember everything I've been through. I remember feeling so proud of her, proud of myself. Proud of overcoming all the insane obstacles to keep going for as long as I did.
I recognised her straight away...I've been a part of her for 26 years. It felt natural, she feels right, she feels good. I'd forgotten how much I could yearn for her. I forgot that seductive feel of her beneath my fingers. How she felt whenever I caressed her. I lusted after the emotions she provoked. I lusted after her.
Even so, I'm still bitter when I hold her. So full of envy, of what others could achieve with theirs; that maybe I would never be as good as they. They were better than me, theirs were better than mine. My eyes were always green, but it always made me work harder. Ever harder. But I could never be as good as them.
Strangely, even now, I'm lazy. I want to play with her again, but...I find excuses to not even pick her up. My slothfulness prevents me from going back to that place where I once was. That time when I felt almost invincible, with her power. The lack of power leaves me a little empty. The ever lasting energy she produced; reduced to nothing.
I know why I don't want to go back. I was punished. She punished me. They punished me. But I'm a glutton for punishment. I pick her up, and try to shove it all aside. Like I don't remember any of it. I go back though. I punish myself. I always did. Gluttonous. For punishment.
Is it too much?
No. It’s not enough. I want more. I want more than just her. I want so many things. I have a thirst. A greedy thirst to do so much more than just be with her. The greed consumes me; exhausts me, but I hunger for more.