In which a poet named Juniper meets a faceless streamer who goes by Corpse Husband.
With all the joys of releasing her first book, there also comes set backs. Having a strong support system and people around you who care is the only thing keeping J...
She felt like feeling nothing she just wants to forget she just wants to free herself she's just tired of regret ~ r.h Sin
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We stumble into the couch, my one free hand that isn't grasping onto Corpse's shirt reaches behind me to keep my body from falling back. His lips taste the way sunshine reflects against the last few drops of rain before the storm clouds roll away.
Like ice melting from the roof of an old wood cabin in the middle of the Colorado Rockies. Like the beach in the early morning when umbrellas have yet to invade the sand. Or the freshness of the produce freezer inside of every Costco warehouse.
The same hands that held me up when I was down are now grasping me like I'm going to disappear at any second. Maybe I am.
Warmth circulates throughout my entire body at every touch, every caress. What little energy I have left is being expelled without care as I let go of his shirt and run my fingers along his collar bone.
The ridges remind me of river water flowing through a canyon, rippling past rocks and stones on it's way to the ocean. Soft, firm, wild. I want to dip into it's cool water and soak in it's comfort for the rest of my days.
He doesn't push me or force anything. He doesn't touch me anywhere but on my sides and my hair. The respect has for me and my boundaries during these tough times is ungodly attractive. The curls of his hair tickle my forehead ever so slightly, causing my lips part in a small smile. He doesn't even hesitate to take the invitation, pushing his tongue between the opening in a very gentle manner.
We move together like this for several minutes. Not escalating it but just enjoying the feeling of each other's skin. I somehow feel like he's taking the breath out of my body while also being the oxygen I need to survive.
Life is a total shit storm sometimes and it's going to be a super long road to recovery, but I know that I'm going to be okay as long as I have these people around me. Rae knows me better than I thought she did. She saw that things weren't okay and that I needed someone to come and help me. Someone who knows the pain of anxiety the same way I do.
I've convinced myself that distractions will keep me from feeling the pain that's become a permanent visitor, but the longer I avoid it the more it's going to build up until it becomes too much. Suffering in silence isn't going to make this any easier.
He's reminded me of that. The curve on his shoulders tells me he's strong and that he's here. He's real. I'm real. This is real.
It's now that I pull away from him, needing to take a moment to catch my breath. Still recovering from my lack of sleep and lack of food intake from the past two weeks, I have little energy left to spare. I can tell that he see's that just by the way he's looking at me so calmly.
