deplancy

I never got butterflies in my stomach when we first met. The sickness, distrust, froze my gut with a cold bile that left me numb and bitter. I did not feel a rush when you held my hand for the first time. My heart had formed a callous around my body, protecting my vulnerable flesh. My mind jaded over when you told me you loved me, my ears ignored your laughter, my eyes failed to meet yours. It was when you opened yourself up to me, that I reacted. It was the tears running down your face, your cries of agony and ecstasy, your hands tightly wrapped around my neck, and your body shaking violently from our night of raw emotion that tore away the shell of my mind and forced me to feel. Not love. Not hate. Just a real strong tug at every nerve in my body for a brief moment, and in that moment, I never felt more disgusting, and yet, beautiful.