nervousaxolotl

[nervousaxolotl]

We both know the feeling. The desire to leave everything behind. To stop hurting, stop feeling sad, anxious, angry. But neither of us ever went that far. I might not know what kept you going, but I am so glad it did. Some days I feel myself sliding back, falling into the routines and lack of emotions that precede worse thoughts and actions. But then I think of your face. I smile just at the mental image of you. I know that I can never leave early. I don’t want to miss a second of life when I know it has you. All of the pain I’ve gone through, I wondered why some days. Most days really. But just talking with you gives me reason enough. It’s overwhelming, almost. Realizing how much I care for you. How much I love you. How just typing something like this brings me to tears in a way that is wonderful.

[nervousaxolotl]

When I feel the most happy, I express it. I give you kisses and cuddles, I tell you over and over how much I love everything about you, I ramble incoherently as my mind fails to keep up with the sweet things I wish to say.

When I’m only okay, my sappy and happy thoughts tilt into sadness. I want to express the things I do when we are together, but instead I write about the things I struggle with most.

The most confusing however, is when I’m numb. When I’m not quite wanting to hurt, but something in my chest feels hollow. When any entertainment I could find seems meaningless and my mind focuses on how bad everything can be. And even as I doom scroll, the only feeling is that hollowness in my chest. It’s a strange, disturbing feeling. If I focus on it for too long, then I start to crave pain. I start to crave anything to distract from the hollow. But even if I gave in. Even if I hurt myself, or drowned in mindless screen time or whatever other such empty pleasures, it doesn’t last. So my as-rational-as-can-be brain decides to do nothing. I decide to sit. To lay in bed. I joke about rotting in bed, but this is real. Laying there, doing nothing. Not progressing in life. Utterly useless. Just a drain.

And then you respond. And suddenly the feelings are pushed away once more. I can sit there, miles away but still smiling at your words. I grumble and huff at your sweetness, but you always manage to make me blush and giggle like an idiot. And I love that. I love you. <3

[nervousaxolotl]

I thought seeing you twice a week was too little. I thought not sleeping by your side at night after each visit, was never enough. But now I realize it can be even worse. The day after you leave is always rough. I sit there, thinking about what I would be doing if you were next to me instead. Wondering if I said I love you enough. Wishing I would have held you just a little longer.

The week after I see you is eternity. I randomly feel the wave of emotions hit. The sadness. The neediness. The not-quite-anger at how unfair it feels. Maybe it’s unhealthy. Maybe it’s too much to say that I nearly cry at the sudden thought of you leaving. Of never seeing you again. Those are the worst moments. Every night I dream of your face, I think of how badly I miss your smell.

Then the second week. Somehow this is both better and worse. The intrusive thoughts, the fear of what may happen, usually isn’t as bad as the previous week. The longing has only grown however. Every time I look at my bed, I can only wish that I was looking at you waiting for me in it. Every time I do something as simple and stupid as drinking from my water bottle, I think of your face when I make sure you drink enough water. I lay in bed, wishing so desperately that instead I was lying on your chest. Feeling your hands across my skin, your chest rising and falling as we cling so tight. Even when it’s too hot and I wake up sweating, it’s worth it just to be near you.

Even if my waking thoughts no longer harbor fears real and imagined, my subconscious picks up the slack. I dream of all the things that could ruin us. Whether my fault or the universe itself, the terrible fantasies are what I wake up thinking about. It’s not just you of course. Most of the ones I’ve cared for in my life have featured in dreams like this. Dreams that may point to some undiagnosed issue. Something some therapist one day might help me to unpack. But for now, the cure is simply time. Time spent in your arms. Time spent listening to your voice. Time spent feeling your lips against my own. They say time heals all wounds, and while I may not believe it can repair all, I know that you can make me feel safe. And I want to return that favor. I want to love you until the day I die, hopefully a day long from now.

[nervousaxolotl]

My favorite moments now are when it’s quiet. When the only noise is the air conditioning. When you’re pressed against me, my arms around you while your fingers trace along my skin. In those moments, I feel at peace. I feel so happy to be alive, a feeling I’ve far too often felt was impossible. Even now, on my worst days, I think about just… leaving all of it behind. But then I think of you.

I used to hate silence. My mind uses it against me. It overflows with thoughts, each one desperate to fill the quiet until they are fighting and screaming amongst themselves for the last inch of silence. I go to sleep hurting, or I stay up until my body shuts down unwillingly. I still can’t fall asleep without music or some video essay playing on my phone as I curl up into bed alone. Except I’m no longer always alone. When I’m cuddling you, feeling your warmth, feeling your chest rise and fall with each breath as we both lay there quietly… I think that’s the closet to a heaven I’ll ever reach. In those moments, I no longer mind the quiet.

When I’m with you, my mind isn’t filled with self-hate. It doesn’t whisper to me, trying to push me past a point I cannot return from. Instead I simply watch you. I study every pore and mark. Every inch of you is so wonderful, that just being near calms me. How could I focus on hating myself, when there’s something so wonderful to love instead? A man so handsome, so sweet and gentle. I cannot hear my mind’s screaming over your loving whispers. And every day I know you, I grow more sure that I want to know you this way for as long as I breathe.

[nervousaxolotl]

In dreams half remembered I see your face. I often do not recall what happens in them. I wonder if they are just hopes and desires, the need to see you once again. Perhaps I dare to think they show my future. A day where I wake next to you. A night when I sleep in your arms. Not just once or twice, but always. Maybe that’s too much to say. Too much pressure, on something so new. But the way I feel, just from being near, leaves me nearly empty, when I am without you.

I almost want to laugh at how desperate I feel. How mere days apart make me feel insane. I know tonight, I’ll dream again. It has become a habit, to see your face when you’re not there. It’s so sweet and wonderful, yet I still know it won’t be remembered come dawn. By some cruel twist of fate, even in my imagination I can only cling to you so long before you must leave. Nothing but time will solve this problem, so I will wait. So I will write. I will ramble and go on and on in ways that seem nonsensical even as I think of the words. Because that is the only way I know.

[nervousaxolotl]

You drive me fucking wild baby.

You make me forget there has ever been anyone else on this fucking planet. Every day I wake up wondering if I’m just going crazy. Cause how can I get a guy that looks better than anything a Roman carved. A perfect paragon of all the things I had no idea I even wanted. I want to show you off. I want to force every last person to see you the way I do. To hear your laugh when I say something stupid. To see the way you smile when after I kiss you. Maybe then everyone would know how special you are.

But… maybe I want to be selfish. Maybe I want to keep you all to myself. To be the only one that knows how you taste. The only one that knows how you smell. How you feel. Logically I know that’s impossible. I’m not your first. But somehow I’m the one you’ve picked now. So someone else might’ve been your first kiss. Your first love. Your first daydream of an entire life spent well. But I want to be the one that stays. The one who you wake up happy to see every day, the one who hugs you on the days you’re sad. The one who gives you space when you’re upset. Even on the days neither of us feel human or worthy, I want to be there. Because I love you so fucking much. And I want to be the kind of person you deserve. I want to be the best I can, because I want you to have the best you can.

[nervousaxolotl]

I thought this feeling would fade. That the high you gave me would vanish, and I’d be left with the feeling I’ve had in relationships past. I even worried that after the exhilaration passed, that once my mind finally calmed, I’d not truly enjoy you as much. That instead of a wonderful buzz, I’d suffer the headache and regretful hangover the next morning. But it hasn’t happened yet. In fact, I’m beginning to think it never will. Whatever you have done to me has potentially marked me for life. I don’t think I’ve made it a day in months without thinking about your lips on mine, or your fingers tangling through my hair.

It matters not what I do, you force your way into my mind. And every time, I smile and blush and feel my heart beat faster. I grow absolutely restless each day that pulls me closer to our next meeting. You’ve absolutely ruined me. And I wouldn’t dare ask the gods to change a thing. Keep me this way. Keep me unable to function around you, practically wanting to worship you. Keep me near, so that I may love you the way I need to. Keep me yours, so that I may take comfort in your arms. And keep being mine, if I can be so selfish as to keep a man so fine, so lovely, so utterly divine all for myself.

[nervousaxolotl]

I’m running out of ways to express my love with words. They will never do you justice, they will never match the feeling inside. It’s not a fire, bright and burning. You aren’t some shining star, bathing me in your glow. Fire doesn’t make me feel loved by its warmth. Stars don’t make my heart pound so hard I think I’ll break. We are animals, plain and simple. The comfort of looking into another living creature’s eyes, and seeing your own desire, your own love mirrored right back. That is unmatchable. It is almost heartbreaking, because eventually it ends.

But that makes it all the more enjoyable. Generations before me, and generations after, may bask in the sunlight. They may sit around a roaring campfire, using its glow for spooky stories and its heat for cooking. But for but a brief speck of time in the inconceivably long life of this universe, I was lucky enough to meet you. I was lucky enough to call you mine, and to have you return those words. To wake up and know you are my darling, and I am your love.

It’s strange to think how different this all could have been. It hasn’t come up before, but when I applied for college here, it was my one and only choice. I didn’t even try to apply anywhere else. I’m not sure why, my memories of that time are hazy. Most would consider that stupid, a gamble that could’ve set me down a worse path if I was rejected… but now? If I had gone anywhere else on this world to learn, I might not have ended up with you. A mindless, potentially disastrous decision at the time. But it led to you. Wonderful, beautiful you.

[nervousaxolotl]

I worry all the time. I worry about anything and everything. But I especially worry about you. Sometimes it’s the usual intrusive thought I’m sure many people have. A fear that something could happen to their loved one. Other times, my anxiety takes hold and I nearly spiral. I fear that you might realize you don’t love me. Or that I’ll say the wrong thing and shatter your image of me. Or even that as I change and grow, you’ll no longer enjoy who I will become.

But when I’m in your arms. When I feel your lips against mine, your heart beating faster at my touch. When I feel your breath on my neck and hear your lovely words in my ear, for those beautiful moments, I forget all of that. I don’t worry when I’m with you. I don’t panic at the thought of losing you. Instead I hold you tight, so, so happy to have you. Your mere presence has brought me to tears, but I’ve managed to hide it before.

Maybe that sounds corny or strange or even obsessive. But it’s true. I have fallen so deeply for you and I never want to surface from this feeling. I want it to swallow me whole and hold me tight. I want you to hold me. And when I am with you, when you lay there, staring at me and making me blush with just a smile, I don’t worry whether or not you want me too.

[nervousaxolotl]

I want to take care of you. I want you to wake up in my arms every morning, and fall asleep on my chest every night. I want to be able to kiss and cuddle and compliment you every single day. I want to make you feel safe and comfortable. To make sure you always know that there is someone who will give you those feelings. Maybe that’s obsessive. Maybe I’m too much of a hopeless romantic, desperate for someone to be able to take care of like that, and who will return that effort in kind. But for now you are the focus of my mind. And I hope that doesn’t scare you away. I hope that even if it doesn’t last, you’ll let me treat you that way while I can. Because you deserve that and so much more darling.

[nervousaxolotl]

You drive me fucking wild. Just your hands on my shoulders, your fingers near my neck makes me whimper and desperately want to tear both our clothes off. I want the confidence and comfort to enjoy you. I want to feel your heart race, your skin burn as we kiss and touch. As I make you moan and you do the same. Every time I see you I need you even more. It’s like I’m drowning, and every time I surface, gasping and coughing, it’s never fucking enough.

I want to keep you. To hold you. Even when I don’t feel my mind racing with a million thoughts that make me blush just to think about, I want you. I enjoy merely being around you. But the way you’ve teased me has made me want so much more. All of you. All the time. Until the reason I can’t breathe isn’t from too little, but from being so overwhelmed with you in the best way possible.

[nervousaxolotl]

I avoid mirrors as often as possible. I don’t like them, for much the same reason as cameras. All they seem to show me are my worst qualities. The parts of me I despise feel magnified in the reflection. The things that make me want to cry and hide from the world or worse. But when I’m with you, I don’t feel as ashamed. Something about you manages to wash those worries away, for but a moment. You call me cute. You call me pretty. You say these sweet words and I struggle to believe you aren’t simply lying to make me smile. Sometimes it doesn’t help. Sometimes when I feel your hands on me, or see you looking my way, I panic. I grow nervous, worried you’ll see me for what I feel I am. Nothing worth being around, let alone loving.

But despite the way I feel, I want to believe you. I want to believe that you don’t see me the way I see myself. Because the way you see everything seems so much nicer. So much sweeter and better and perfect in almost every way. I want to see myself the way you see me. I want to see myself the way I see you. I don’t want to listen to the voice that treats me so harshly. So instead I’ll accept your words. I’ll believe that you think I’m pretty and cute. That you enjoy me, and aren’t merely pitying me. And if I do that long enough, if I continue to try, one day I know I will be able to believe that too.

[nervousaxolotl]

You say the cutest shit sometimes. Things that make me wanna squeeze you in my arms and cover you in kisses until you giggle and squirm. Other times you say depressing things. Words that make my heart ache for you and want to cuddle you all the same. The kind of sadness I can’t cure with my presence despite wishing I could. The kind of sadness that I wish could be wiped away by gentle kisses and sweet words. By loving touches and time spent with each other.

But that isn’t how this works. That isn’t how most things work. But that doesn’t mean I won’t try for you. That I won’t do all those things, even when you’re sad. Even when you’re mad, or disappointed, anxious or any of the far too many emotions we all have. But I will do it. I will make sure you know I’m there for you. That no matter how fucked up things feel, someone cares. That there is someone who wants you happy. Who wants to see you smile and hear you laugh. Even if one day that person is no longer me, while it can be, I so desperately want to do so.

So next I see you, happy or sad, rain or shine, I’ll be there for you. I’ll praise you, cuddle you, treat you with as much love as I could possibly give. And I’ll enjoy every moment I get to be with you. I’ll kiss every last inch of you if I must, just to make sure you can’t ever forget that I care.

[nervousaxolotl]

I love being a pathetic mess for you. Whimpering, begging, almost in tears from how frustratingly horny you can make me with just a few words. A good girl here, a sweet compliment there, and next thing I know I’m leaning against you, biting you for any sense of control and as an excuse to hide my bright red face. But I want more than that. I want to grind against you, my noises getting louder and higher pitched as you tease me. I want to feel your hands on me, your nails gently scratching my skin. I want you to push me down. To lean over me and stare at me with those gorgeous, overwhelming eyes of yours.

And despite the fact I doubt I could ever say this to your face, I want you to fuck me. I want to feel you thrusting against me, using me like a toy. Gentle, rough, slow, fast it doesn’t matter. All that I need is to listen to your noises as you enjoy my body. As you lean close and whisper in my ear that you’ll fill me. Breed me even. Make me yours in a way that can’t be forgotten. To cling tightly to you, my nails digging into your back as your teeth tear into my flesh to leave even more marks. The thought of it all makes me whine. It makes me press my legs together and shudder with desperate need.

If you did that… it would never be enough. I’d want you even more than I already do. I’d want to feel you every day. To make you so happy you forget what sadness is like. And of course I’d enjoy it too. I’d love to be nothing more than your pet. To belong fully to you, for you to enjoy and tease and do anything and everything you want. To serve you every day and be showered with affection in return.

[nervousaxolotl]

I want to believe you when you say you enjoy our time together. But no matter how much you say it, I can’t seem to trust you. That’s horrible isn’t it? Your own mind considering you so unworthy of attention or the smallest crumb of affection that you make everyone a liar instead? Even saying these words feels wrong. Like I’m trying to guilt you into doing something, rather than what I intend to do. I just want to explain why I act so strange sometimes, why I struggle to accept your compliments and such. My thoughts and emotions have been cracked by those before you. Not shattered, but forever scarred nonetheless. It shows me the twisted reflection, the bitter lie my brain turns to, even as you try to give me sweet truths. Even as I crave them and wish for them to be real. Because how could one such as I deserve any attention from someone like you?

So please, don’t take these words to heart. Because I’m trying. I want to do better. I want to believe you, to not second guess when I hear your voice. I want to become a person who can enjoy and appreciate your affections for what they are. Someone who can return that as well. Not someone who pushes you away in fear and self-sabotage. So I merely ask you have patience with me. I know that sometimes I’ll say something stupid. That I may hurt your feelings or say something that isn’t true. But give me just a bit more time, and I know I’ll be able to trust you the way you deserve. To know that you mean it when you tell me you enjoy things. <3

[nervousaxolotl]

I found it incredibly funny, in a painful sort of way, that the first ‘crush’ I developed in so long was on someone I considered completely unavailable. He was smart, and pretty, and a joy to be around. But over the course of our many conversations, it seemed hopeless. The more he spoke, the deeper I sank into this feeling that I wanted to kiss him. But what he spoke of made that seem a distant dream. He spoke of broken hearts, of unrequited love. Of dreams long gone, and flames still burning, even if small.

I laughed and teased him for his pining, for being unable to get over this person whom it seemed did not care for him the same way. Part of me hoped he was wrong and this person would return his affection. That seemed like a sweet outcome. A more shameful side of me formed though. A part of me that hoped they would not. The entirety of our time together, despite my words to him, I was doing almost the exact thing he was. I wanted him so bad, I thought my hunger could be satisfied with merely a hug, the slightest hint of attention. And then one day the teasing grew bolder, and I would never be happy with just a hug again.

Feelings became words. Words became actions. And before I knew what was happening, his lips were pressed against mine. Soft, sweet, and so perfect beyond compare. And the pretty boy I craved became so much more. He went from something unattainable, to a real possibility. From someone I was scared to touch, for fear he would vanish, to a handsome man I wake up missing every day. Even now I cannot believe I worked up the courage to ask him for that first shy kiss.

Now every time I see him, I grow even needier. Every kiss leaves me wanting to stay with him. Every time he lets me touch him, I want to cry with joy that I am allowed to witness such beauty. I want him to make me his. To tell me I cannot leave, that he will keep me and I will love it. Yet every time, he leaves. He has to of course. Life doesn’t work like the movies or books. And so he leaves, despite my wanting to make him stay. Despite his own desires. So I follow him like a lost puppy, kissing him deeper, holding him tighter, trying to find the right words to earn me just five more seconds… Five more seconds is never even close to enough.

[nervousaxolotl]

I switch wildly between wanting to submit entirely to you, and having my way with you. The only constant is needing you so badly I forget everything else. Part of me wants to be gentle with you. To make you feel loved and taken care of. Another part wants to bite and scratch until you are sore and bruised, so that every day for a week you are reminded who did that to you. I want to sit in front of you, sliding my hands down your sides, feeling you shiver in anticipation as my fingers reach the waistband of your pants. I want you to know how I’m desperately craving every part of you. To grab at your clothes and rip them off if I must. I want to kiss your stomach, taste your bare skin as you squirm and grow more excited. To find every sensitive spot that makes your lovely noises louder before I stop at your underwear, kissing you gently and so so teasingly. I want you to beg me to keep going. To hear your breath catch in your throat as I pull that final bit of fabric down. As I spread your legs slowly and lean close once more. I cannot promise to be the best, but I want to learn, all for you. I want your hands in my hair, holding tight while your moans guide me in worship of your body. I want to please you until you cannot stop yourself from pressing your thighs together against me, shuddering and whining in pleasure. And maybe if I’m lucky, maybe if I hope hard enough, you’ll want to keep me for yourself after so I can do it again every time you ask or command.