I know this is important. I know why I continue to try to do this. And I know why I can't. And that just makes it worse.I try everything. Free-word association. Listening to music, and trying to build off the lyrics. Even watch a sexy film and try to turn that into words for a proper erotic story. And just outside the corner of my vision, I know she's there, shaking her head sorrowfully, knowing that unless I break through my personal wall, there is no chance that I can pull it off.Finally... I spin in my chair, and look at her... and sigh, and for the first time, ask my muse directly for help... "Why? Why can't I find the words to express myself? I feel the emotions, I mean... it's there... but it's not. It's been almost four months since... since Tabitha and I split up... and in that time, it's like I'm a faucet that's been shut off at the source. No matter how many times I turn the handle, there's nothing coming out."She avoids looking at me directly. She knows how much this hurts. " I gasp "wher.." my voice,her voice, "where am... I" I realize I'm alone, where is my body. Mybody, her mind, "where are you?!" ... silence without closure, I mustbe.. in.. here, I look at her body, and she must be some where in here.I feel tears on her face, I need her more than I've ever needed her, Ineed a shoulder to cry on, "she'll be back right?! You'll be backright?!" I look myself over and feel so soft in every way one can. Igrab blankets and cover myself, I pass out so emotionally exhausted Ididn't want to be awake, no dreams.I wake up, I feel uncomfortably familiar with my body, and then pain anddread all at once, I felt the need to pee I look down a see her cutelittle bush pubic hair, a strange longing comes over me it use to besuch a pleasant sight, but now it felt like a lack of something, so bareand blank. I stand, slowly and get my bearings look around, shorts, ashirt I'm good to go. I pull the shorts up and realize how high they'llgo now the put on her shirt, why'd it.
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