Sunday, October 6, 2019

My 16th Shame


“I used to call you “my air” since you were literally the best kind of oxygen, I have ever inhaled…”
I wrote this in my diary, slightly trembling from the thoughts of you. Dating you lasted for two weeks with the passion of a one-year relationship. I could start thinking about you and a quick glance at my watch would shake me by realizing that my imagination has detached me from this world for two damn hours.

Mike wasn’t tall, not that I cared about it anyway… His brown hazel eyes did it all. He was a very talkative man, but his eyes said completely different words to me. I remember our first date. I never told him that way before I met him, I was with the guy who served us at that bar.

After two weeks of opening up to one another (to a certain extent of course), Mike rhetorically asked me: “15 men, Belle, what if we see one of them when we hang out? How am I supposed to feel if it happens? Especially knowing that this guy also got to see your naked body... ” When I recall his words, I struggle to recall his countenance but rather his body language, I can remember too clearly. It was a weird scenario of us. I was sitting on his lap as a young girl who made foolish mistakes and was now lectured by her father. He seemed disappointed, I remember, but at the same time so assuring. Assuring that we can get past my past.

I have never seen Mike since then. Do I regret breaking up with him? I`d regret dating him if he saw one of my exes and was embarrassed by me.

Mike, if only god had sent you to me 15 men ago, we wouldn’t have had to break up. But he didn’t, therefore you are number 16.



Wednesday, September 11, 2019

My Air


It was their third fight when she decided to break it. She couldn’t’ handle it anymore. 
“Oh, the frustration is unbearable”, she said. 
They dated for 4 months and only after breaking up she has realized how emotionally and sexually numb she was. 
She always says, “love me as if I will not be here tomorrow. This is how love should be, it should never cease, it should never become routine”. 
There wasn’t love apparently, only tears, lots of them.

When you are with someone and your bodies speak more than your vocal cords do, doesn’t it feel like you are in the middle of a burning fire? The energy, his eyes, the warmth of his body sets you inside a flame. You just want to be touched, felt, passionately kissed. You wish you were raped by him right now. You want to be ravished by this man in front of you. That is how she felt towards that guy. That guy revived her. He was her home, full of decorations and sweetness which was her saving breath, a second from death. His smell, his tongue and the way he moved it all the way up her neck, close to her ear so she could consume his breathing sound so strongly, she felt his soul in her.

“Kiss me, don’t stop” she buried her nails in his back.
 He didn’t feel any pain but her throbbing heart.
She couldn’t sleep that night, she was laughing to herself, smiling nonstop. His eyes won’t get off her mind. This light brown melted her. All she did that night was recalling his touch. His hands in her hair, stroking it while her head is on his chest, praying this moment will never end. When she was on top of him, he felt so helpless asking her to stop so they don’t get too far, crossing boundaries. But she wanted him to touch every piece of her body.

“I am begging you, just a little,” she said, and he kissed her even harder.

The palm of his hands holding her face, making her his. There wasn’t enough oxygen in that room for the both of them, so they inhaled each other.


Monday, April 15, 2019

A Repairman Requested


A Repairman Requested

One of the moments that a young adult may never forget is the moment of the “talk”.

“Make sure Angelica, that he does not touch you in your private places, ok? Not even your arms” my mother said to me, gently patting my arms, barely looking into my eyes- wishing this moment has never arrived.
“Okay mom, of course not” 10 year old Angelica replied, barely understanding what her mother meant exactly but she was too ecstatic about her first boyfriend anyway.

There is something in me that will never forget that evening. I was a sexual kid since the age of 10, nothing really caused it, this is who I was. I always wanted to have a boyfriend. Those days back then when I used to lose my breathe over those four times, I was asked to be Dan’s, Rick’s, Jason’s and Austin’s girlfriend. I can still hear the Messenger’s default ringtone in my head, the butterflies I had in my belly- made me so so sick out of excitement.

I lost my virginity at the age of 17, my mom knew and since then I am the “obscene” in the family. If I ask myself whether I loved that guy or not, I can’t tell. Maybe I did when I was with him but now, after counting all the men I slept with by the age of 23 it is hard to determine who I loved and who I never did. Being so open shuts you down, being so careless makes you worried, giving yourself effortlessly causes trust issues.

Can one fix this? I couldn’t.



Monday, March 18, 2019

Another Dimension


My stories are like the heat of a fire. You look at it and you wonder, what is this orange, goldish and red power in front of your eyes. It attracts you as it attracts oxygen, though it dries you out of it as well. You want to know it, you want to explore but, alas, the pain it may cause.
It is a reflection; the colors are memories. Feelings. You open it and you enter a whole new dimension of the unknown person you have known for so long.


Thursday, February 14, 2019

US of A

“What’s the problem with just blue and white, Sarah?” my psychiatrist asked me, trying to understand the madness behind my words. It was just an obsession, I knew it long ago.
“Are you asking this seriously?” I asked him, arching my eyebrows, surprised how he couldn’t understand, “who wouldn’t want some red in their lives? Just a great addition to the lonely white and blue who are so sick of one another already.
The red, sir, the red is everything about this. The temptation, lust, eagerness. It is the red that the blue and white need”
He nodded, laying his mouth on his thumb “so you are saying, the red makes you feel….”
“It makes me feel good. Empowered, independent, invincible” I interrupted his words so he couldn’t be wrong about what the powerful red does to my life. “You see, the blue and white know everything about each other. They are incompatible, like oil and water. So, the white goes to seek something mergeable, till it encounters red. It is all about red, their culture, manners. Red is so different than blue and white sir, it accepts you. “
“What is so…different for you, Sarah?”
“Once you stare, once you observe you notice things you have never thought of before. Their attire, accessories, speech, language, even their skin sir, their body's hairs. It is the differences that attract the eye, the passion.”
I never wanted something different from myself, but lust got me. How could I ever resist this red fantasy?

“The red is the stain that connected two great nations” I was trying to explain it to my psychiatrist, why I was into something so foreign and unshared with my surrounding. 

Monday, January 28, 2019

My Detested Frost

You chased, you gave, you wanted, you cared, you prayed, breathed, wished, hugged, kissed…
You cried, you broke, you ached, you bit your lip out of the pain you went through, you screamed, you asked- “what is wrong with me?”
“Why do I deserve this?”
“What am I doing wrong?”
From the dark, cold winter to the beginning of the flourishing spring. You changed as the leaves. Vulnerability to stability, paleness to colorful, wrinkle to softness.
You stood there, whirlwind moving your hair, clothes, values. You did not blink. Your hands spread to the sides, welcoming. The cold wind penetrates everything. Your skin pores, your ears, mind, soul. You are cold, paralyzed inside. You hated to feel this way, but you were helpless.
And when it is over, you hear birds’ songs, the air is filled with blossoming roses’ scent. Sun touches your skin and you are breathing again. Sun gives you hope, melting the icebergs that were left in you from the passing winter. Cheeks turning reddish and so does your heart. From the embracing new breeze.

Although it is spring now, cold air comes and goes, cutting you like a knife. Reminding you it is always there.
Who let you in Frost? Your time has passed.



Thursday, January 3, 2019

Lucy

You have a real fine girlfriend. She is everything you have ever wished for. She has long black hair, soft skin, long legs. Her beautiful tits are what make you lucky in life and her ass is all you ever needed. She is completely loyal to you, she would kiss you and tell you how much she needs you all the time. She dedicates her time, energy, efforts, and neediness all for you. She is a walking piece of heaven, you have been blessed. But when the two of you walk together and pass by other males, she would lower her tight shirt’s zipper to expose more of her solid, jutting tits. She would look at the floor, not making eye contact with the other men but she makes sure you see them drool. She would stick out her ass when you two standing and other men pass by. She would move her hair from one side to the other, over and over again. She would send you a screenshot of other men's comments on her sexy photos on Instagram just to show you that her "battery is about to die". She would make a good impression on your homies just so they “like her so much, maybe you should share”, your homie winks.

But you just stand there and wonder, why does she try so hard. 


Wednesday, January 2, 2019

Off-Target


I was waiting for the nine o’clock train to Tel Aviv. Right next to me I saw a well-built, young soldier, with a giant gun lying between his thighs. A long red Pringles tin was held in his left hand while his right hand was all the way inside it. I was sure it reached the bottom of the tin. I realized I was staring.
“Want one?” the lad’s right hand was now out of the tin, tilting it towards my direction with a sexy smirk on his face.
“ah, no. Thank you!” I said, blushing, but managing to show a soft smile.
He had the kindest eyes, a countenance of a strong but somewhat playful man.
“Where are you heading to?” he attempted to strike a conversation.
“Just Tel Aviv, to do some shopping and walking around” I said back while looking at his wrinkled uniform. I assumed he must not have a girlfriend, maybe not even a mother.
“What about you? Heading home from the base?” I almost forgot how to communicate.
He would laugh at everything I said. He kept on chuckling as if I was telling a joke and he was enjoying himself.
“Yeah, I have a month off” he said back. His voice was manly, thick, and pleasant.
“What's your job?” I was curious to know. I didn't know a lot about guns, but I could see that the one that laid there was one of a kind.
“I am a sniper, of a special unit” he said, as if he loved the sound of it, but didn't try to boast as he moved his eyes trying not to look straight into mine.
“That's impressive. Are you any good at it?” I asked back, trying to give him some confidence in his words. Though I liked to see how shy he was for talking about himself so much.
“I like to think I am pretty accurate…” he laughed slightly, lowering his gaze down to the Pringles tin in his hand. I let him lead the conversation because I didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable.
The sniper and I were the same age but for some reason, it felt like we had a wide gap between us.
“This is my stop,” I smiled as I grabbed my bag to leave.
“This my number, maybe we can hang out or something?” Of course, he chuckled again as he handed me a perfectly clean white piece of paper with a number on it.
We managed to talk everyday all day for two or so weeks. Our communication was constant, sharing photos, daily activities, we knew all about each other’s routine.
Our first date was simple and amusing. We concluded we like being in each other’s company, I saw a spark that started the fire of love- which led us to many more meetings.
We were sexually hungry for one another. We made love that set us on fire and caused us feel heat waves all over where our bodies touched. He used to bury his hands deep in my skin, holding me fiercely, without the pause of a second. His hard kisses turned into the bites of a starving man, he moved so passionately that I could see the hunger in his eyes, the kind you wouldn't expect to see on a patient sniper.
I thought I had made him softer, but my relationship with him barely held for a month. They say never expect anything from anyone, but when you love someone you naturally expect love from them, but it did not happen. We were sculpted from different materials. I was fire and he was stone, I pulled closer and he drew backwards because he did not let anybody step into his private world. He didn't know how to embrace what I was giving.
 When a sniper is revealed he is weakened. He can hurt you and reach to you only when he is disguised, then when I tried to reveal his emotions he pushed back.
“You are too much, you give too much, and you ask for things I am incapable of giving you. Haha” this was one of his last messages, he was devastatingly accurate, and I have realized, this sniper is disguised too well.

I spent months eating Pringles straight from the tin, recalling my salty memories with the sniper to whom I was too warm. I hated the fact that I was too much for a man. I hated being so extroverted for such an introverted person. He made me feel like a crazy person but as a matter of fact after thinking for so long, I was not. I just needed somebody to love but our definitions of the word “love” …were completely different.
Five years later, a risky army operation that required all the special combat units to get to the border was announced everywhere. Back then, I was already married to a great man. My life was pretty peaceful, the way it was before that day at the train station. I had a beautiful daughter-Genesis, to whom I had unconditional love for. I moved to Tel Aviv with my husband after we got married and our life put me at comfort. I became an English teacher, just like I always wanted. I was happy in my world after learning so much from my actual experiences. I spent time with my family with whom I had a reciprocated relationship.
But the day of the annunciation of the operation made me uneased. I was home with Genesis- the TV was on, screening the news- following the military chief announcing the main goals of this operation. I was concerned and focused on the news when I thought I heard hesitated knocks on the front door.
I asked Genesis to get it.
“Mom…. “she pronounced it longer than usual.
I came to the door to see the sniper standing there wearing his war uniform, which I never thought could be any more wrinkled than the time I saw him wearing it on the train. He did not look so well. He grew some beard, his eyes looked as if something was shut down in him. He gulped as he moved his eyes from little Genesis to look at me. I was paralyzed for that very moment, I just stood there frozen, in my own house. All I needed was to see his face again to remember, everything came back to me. A tear ran down my cheek, but it was not right, so I quickly wiped it off.

He was a good sniper, but this time he missed the target.