I just felt silly. And very alone.
More so than when I had smacked a hairbrush down on my own backside.
More so than when I had heaped the pillows on the bed and bent over them; trying to conjure the feeling I wanted so bad, as my hand, wedged under my body, fell into numbness before I could come.
At least those had made me feel something. But this? Facing the living room wall, under my own volition at 2 in the afternoon?
This just left me feeling empty, sickeningly so. This one needed another body in the room.
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