I had the great pleasure of seeing my beau in the flesh this very very early morning. Exceptionally handsome.. his eyes, fiery. It has been so long since he touched me, due to circumstances of course. A movie, sweet nothings, “I want you to stay the night”, and small talk.
For a second I thought we were really going to watch a movie. I was looking forward to finishing that movie. For some reason finishing the movie together equated to true love. I know I know, silly, irrational even. Well for some reason that’s what I thought. But it didn’t make sense because there was some hard core flirting which stated that was the point of being picked up and hanging in for a bit with my beau. So I decided to define it as love. And I decided that I did feel aroused. I decided that we were going to engage in really intense sex. Mind blowing. Amazing. I’ve told you before, did I not? Our sex is phenomenal. I know “Gloat much?” Not really. I’m still shocked that I found who I consider to be the perfect sexual match.
So….
As he plowed away, pump by pump, inside of my core….I flipped…mentally.
(My apology for my overuse of ellipses. It’s a bother I’m sure.)
The other me, my alter ego came out. But as a protective mechanism. Because for just one second my rape appeared in memory. I was 6 years old. About 5 or so winos attended my show. Anyways, yes that appeared in my mind. I tried so hard to mask it. To hold it back. I nearly had a panic attack. My breathing became rapid as I tried to calm down. My love knew what was happening. So caring. So loving. He stopped and held me. Saying in my ear that I was ok and that he was right here. I felt like there were three different MEs in the room. Will this continue on for the rest of my life? How long until I no longer have these panick attacks or minor breakdowns during sex? Will I ever forget that autumn day on a bed of leaves outside, with a drunken audience?
In My Tree,
Owl
Photo: source
Phoenix Of The South 
