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The Only One

Heroine

By Dully BleuPublished 7 years ago 3 min read
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So this story is about how close I was to closing the chapter of my life. How my phone was filled with emptiness, not even the people could save me.

I was a fiend to the girls, the sex, the drugs, living the life the big people were living. I was a fiend to making the girls happy, seeing their smiles every time I was around, seeing their bodies heat up when I gave them what they wanted, tangible or intangible. I was a fiend to the brotherly hugs and the daps. A fiend.

Lost in a world, a map with infinite possibilities. Travelling to places that the sun never ceased to touch. Fucking 3-5 girls a night. I finally came to the point that I was numb physically and mentally. No feelings, but desperation. I wanted to settle down, find a girl that was going to forever be with me while I fucked other girls. That was the life of a fiend. I was a cheat amongst other things, an addict, lowlife. I’d ask for nudes like I was asking for a prayer from a pastor. I had more than a thousand nudes in my phone over the course of 2 months. You could really say that girls ran the world. Even came to a point that I would pay heavy amounts for sex even when I never had the money. I would lose the female friends I had because of my sexual cravings toward them. My best friends would start to notice that their girls would cheat on them with me just for some free acid sheets. I got beat up by a married man for going after his wife. I snorted so much cocaine I almost relied on it to keep me from showing my depression. I would snort even when I was due for a drug test for a job. I stared at the back of bleach bottles and pill bottles that I found in my mom's cabinet. I studied different ways to tie ropes. And in the end I became broke. I laughed. I lived in the back of a locked abandoned house for a couple weeks before trekking to my ex girlfriend's house. She let me in to her house, her heart, and to this day I still feel guilty. She bought a shit ton of clothes for me and we remained friends for 2 weeks before my ticks for sex started acting up. I was on the floor when I touched her knee and drew circles. She moved my hand. And told me she wasn’t in the place to get hurt again. I wasn’t the first to hurt her but I was going to be the last. We fucked. For hours on end. Her body beneath the sheets swayed like branches on a tree during a cool autumns breeze. Her moans intertwined with the creaking of the bed. Her insides as warm as the feeling of buying ice cream on a hot summers day. She lay on me. She told me she missed me but she hated my guts. She let out all her thoughts followed by tears. Her tears ultimately made me stronger, I grabbed her for as long as possible, I made sure I embraced her. For the first time, I genuinely loved her. I missed her, her fits of anger and moments of arousal. I loved watching bootlegs while eating stolen snacks. We used to do everything together. I met her parents. She even moved in with me and got our first pet together. Ralo was his name; a pup Rottweiler. Cutest thing I ever lay my eyes on. We eventually gave him to her mum because we couldn’t afford to keep him anymore.

We now live in a small apartment with just about everything thing we need. I go to see Ralo sometimes but it’s awkward with my gf's mom so I tend not to stay long, but I shower them with gifts so to show that I’m sorry.

I would have been gone by now with only a few people attending my funeral and a lot of happiness in the people that hated me.

sexual wellness
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