That’s all I ask of you…

The lights peak in through the cracks of the open blinds. Neon signs that flash the name of a low rate motel room where I find myself calling home for the night. The distant sound of car alarms from down the street and the moaning of a couple from next door. The same couple that checked in here under fake names wearing sunglasses to hide their midnight affairs. Both sporting a tan line from the rings they left back in the car. Everyone has a guilty pleasure. Most don’t want to give in to them and learn how to control it. But not me. I can’t help but give in every time. I can say how much I don’t want to, how I can’t and shouldn’t, but once the time comes, I can’t stop. Tears can be running down my face one second and the next… pure euphoria. It’s like my body just has a mind of its own. It’s like a drug, but not just anyone you find on the street. It’s one that will change you and make you reflect on your life. For me, It stops itself. Not because of the fear of getting caught, but the fear that I will lose myself more that I already am. I crave it more than anyone will ever know Or that it will ever understand. The passion, the conversation, the straight out make up sessions. I want it all the time, but I lost myself once I lost it. So once I find myself, I’ll meet its embrace once more, but this time, it’ll be different …

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