Wegesha my Christian Grey

I wish Wordsworth was here to teach me some poetry to express what I feel; it would show the romance through all this, and may be it would get through that thick brain of yours. Rules and religious principals guided my life for 31 years, and my life was amazing. I can never do complicated, but all I end up doing with you is complicated.  I wish I was a drinker or a smoker: weed sounds good right now just to make me forget but I never really got into that habit and there is no point in starting now since I cannot catch up close enough to help me shut my mind off for a second, plus I do not want to end up on the Michael Jackson drug and on ventilator with fluid weeping out of my body, I can never understand how people destroy their lives for drugs and ETOH, such a waste.

Any way back to my life: my apartment smells of  you; I cannot sleep on my bed because it has your scent; any laundry detergent couldn’t get rid of your scent since it is in my head and all I want is to have you there. So I move to the couch but there is still you.  Please  let me have one sq. foot in my apatemtnt where there is no reminder of you. The ache my body feels every time I move is a constant reminder and I cannot wait until it goes away. Why am I having trouble explaining it to you that relationships have anthropological base, no sexual act can survive without it,

The problem is I couldn’t tell you I love you, I have loved you for years but I can never tell you that because I think you are so out of my league, and I was doing so good when you decided to disappear on me, it felt good not to want you to my core but you showed up and this time I became a junky for your love and kiss and every thing else that followed. It is weird  to want to get drunk on your kiss, I cannot play with flower petals to see if you love me or not. I gave up the one virtue I held close to my heart because who better to give it up to than the one person that makes me high with just a kiss and candle light conversations. I want to tell you that I love you to the moon and back and more, but I can never say it to your face, sharing what we shared meant a lot more than I led on my Wegesha, I am your marked territory now; like a lioness is to the king of the jungle. I do not swear but if I did I would say this is F…..up.

I am a mess but I am an adorable mess who isn’t afraid of  the fifty shades of F..up you are, but I am afraid of telling you that to your face. But I have hope that you allow me some neurotransmitters and neurons so that  we can let the synapse happen and build our own Pride. All this crying makes me look weak and I am stopping that right now, but I am not impervious to things that happen around me, I am human and I believe you are too even though you think  you are not affected by human emotions and I plan to prove you wrong by enlisting God whose existence you question, I got one up on you on this one and you are in for a surprise.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. tibebe
    Dec 18, 2014 @ 22:59:40

    ሆ ሆ ሆ ሜሪ ክሪስማስ አለ (ሉ?) ሳንታ! ጉድ ሳይሰማ መስከረም (January?) አይጠባ አሉ ያገሬ ሰዎች!!

    Your post had everything: sex (and no doubt nudity), reference to drugs and alcohol, strong language and violent behavior viz the Grey reference – I just hope you have a safe word: nociceptor! nociceptor! Or something like that 🙂

    You go girl!

    Or do you want me to tell him? I mean, you said “…I have got One up on you…” and One just so happens to be my name. Wordsworthን ከምንቀሰቅሰው….


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