“You linger in my mind every time I talk to you,” he told her on their last marathon phone conversation. Since they spoke on the telephone so sporadically, and saw each other in person even less, she knew he meant what he said as fact. But…

He wounded her. Deeply.
That’s why she had him in that “we are friendly, but I can’t really call you my friend” zone. Anyone else, she would have cut them off completely without apology and permanently blocked numbers. But him. He was her one midnight snack, kept and occasionally eaten against her better judgment because she couldn’t deny the emotions he aroused in her. She couldn’t pretend that she would never talk to him again because the melodies of their conversations changed her. Expanded her thinking, her logic, her reason. Their conversations made her want to put money in the tithing plate, cook him dinner in heels, have all his babies, and open her legs to let him fuck her in the ass until she passed out at the same damn time.

His ability to penetrate her mind, made his dismissal of her that much more painful. Like the lyrics in one of her favorite songs, there was a part of her that lived in him that only they two could find.

But it wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t trust her actions, having been dismissed before by those who proclaimed to love him. Who should have loved him. He couldn’t trust himself to believe that she was real. That she was forever. That he was special and unique to her. That he was her purple squirrel and black swam and 8th sigma all in one.

She accepted and moved on with her life. Compartmentalizing him so she didn’t compare any new dates to him. She enjoyed herself and stopped chasing the high she felt with him. He couldn’t be replicated, so she let it go. Forgiving, but never forgetting.
He told her “it takes days to get you out of my system. Your voice in my ear. Our laughter. I masturbate to what we were for days after I talk to you.”
She knew what he was remembering. They both equally lost the title of “Who will break first?” when they saw he other. He was remembering the time she wore the most unsexy outfit she could think of and dared him not to touch her at all. He broke when she told him underneath her sweatpants, she wasn’t wearing panties and had her in a pretzel before the end of the commercial. Or the time she broke watching him grill steaks and made him fuck her immediately while the steaks burned.
He was remembering her straddling him in a reverse cowgirl so he could play with her ass while she played with his balls. He was remembering the time she was so turned on, they pulled to an off-ramp so she could unbuckle his pants and put his dick in her mouth and sucking it like it spewed gold, swallowing every drop. He was remembering how she fucked his tongue with her clit over and over again, until he came first from her dripping all over his face. He remembered when she tied him up and forced him to submit to her imagination before they switched places.
“I needed you. I opened up to you and gave you a piece of myself that I never knew existed until you shined light on it. And when I accepted that I needed you in my life, you disappeared. You simply walked away. Not even good-bye. Maybe instead of knocking you off your feet, I bored you instead.”
The pain, feeling fresh, caused her to hang up the phone feeling confused and angry. She didn’t cry but laid down in the sheets; his smell lingering from that morning.

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