Dirty Girl

It's been such a long time since I had saw her. Since I had even answered her call.

When I read her messages I could almost feel the desperation. I remember I traced the letters just imagining how she looked when she sent them. She starts off every communication between us by letting me know how much she has "missed me". Her words twist me and separate me from the logical part of myself. Flashbacks of every interaction we've had always reminds me of the satisfaction after every interaction we have. She's exactly what I need. 

She's open, positive, loyal, caring and willing to let me be whoever I need to be. From a student to a career woman, she's always been so supportive. Yet, I've spent the last few months avoiding her; neglecting her.

It's the same question I always seem to ask: how could someone like her want to please someone like me? Her masochistic ways make her all the more intriguing. 

She's my dirty girl. 
She's my confidante.  
She's my little space on the web, and it's been far too long...


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