Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Dear Loveless Sex,

She owned you, didn’t she? I know. I watched her walk around proudly as if none of it was happening. I feel for her though, don’t you? How could you not. You play such a coy game. She told me how lost she was and how it just felt good for feel another body lying next to her. She doesn’t have a lot of men under her belt, hell compared to most women the number is extremely low, but the amount of time in which she consumed such a loveless task was what worried me, and you as well. We both know you were the substitute for her heart. How she was making up for those years of getting her ass beat mentally. How she genuinely felt that sex was nothing more than just sex and will forever be just that. And it’s not. Anyone that has been in-love knows it’s not.

I had a friend say to me, “We’re grown. You should be able to have sex with whoever you want and not feel bad about it. Who cares? It’s just sex.” And she’s right. But what satisfaction does one get out of going around and having you, loveless sex? I don’t understand. And I don’t think she understands either.

She did cry to me when a friend simply stated to her that, she was alone and that substituting the want for love and affection with you was unacceptable and tasteless.

I’m not writing you to hurt you. I just don’t understand what your need for existence is. You are simply tasteless. I just hope one day more women will realize that you, loveless sex, are just a sad quick way of making us feel wanted















*drops mic*

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