What We Deserve

Part 28: Fixing Falls

Sleeping on Max's couch, in the sat up position due to Max simply passing out onto me- my whole body is stiff and achy.

Last night was frustrating to say the least.

Not because of Max, but because we could have just saved me the back and neck pain and slept in the damn bed.

But no.

We ended up on the couch.

Sliding out from underneath him, I quietly head to the bathroom and use it.

I'm slightly lost with Max.

I know he's not ready sexually, but last night he made me feel he wasn't even ready for me—in general. He's going back and forth again.

One moment we're kissing and enjoying each other's company and the next, he's having a breakdown and can't even tell me if he wants to spend the night or to go home.

His therapist sounds like trash- they aren't helping at all and I frankly think he needs to find a new one.

Turning on the shower, I let the water heat up and I get undressed, and then brush my teeth with the brush Max pulled out for me yesterday.

All over a fricking toothbrush as well.

I mean.

Does anyone complain about a toothbrush they're being given?

No.

Now personally, I do prefer a soft bristle brush- mostly because I like how it feels, but I use mediums as well.

My travel brush in an emergency is a medium.

So I have zero issues with this one from Max.

Even if it was a true issue last night- I still would have just used the damn thing because it doesn't matter.

He made it a big deal for zero reason.

Standing there naked while brushing my teeth, I stair into his large bathroom mirror and simply finish up before I spit and rinse the brush and the corners of my mouth before I place it in the holder and step into the nice steamy shower.

I love this tub.

Claw foot bathtubs just seem to speak to me for some reason.

Standing at the back of the shower and just running the warm water of my body, I close my eyes and embrace the warmth. It feels great. It's loosening my neck and back as I slowly step more into it.

Maybe it's me.

Maybe it isn't really a Georgia thing.

Maybe he's just not as attracted to me as he thought and he doesn't want to hurt my feelings.

I mean.

He never once felt aroused around me.

Even sharing a bed last weekend- it wasn't like he was poking me in the back with his member... I mean he changed me into night shorts for Pete Sake. You would've thought he would've been around by me.

So it must be me.

How could it not be?

My chest isn't anything to marvel at.

And I don't take Max for an arse man.

Maybe.

And this is a very large stretch.

Maybe it's because I'm black.

I'm not saying that because I think Max is racist.

But like Floyd, maybe Max can only see long term with white women.