I’m desperate for a person with whom I can talk freely
Without feeling lumps and bumps whatsoever. With him I don’t want to feel a teensy bit of nervousness or discomfort leaping up .
A total stranger ..
A stranger who is a good listener, meaning; who gives no advice, who agrees with everything I say, who keeps eye contact and interest in what I’m saying no matter what.
I want to tell him the story of my life. But from my own point of view. ُThe story of my feelings. I want to tell him all the secrets that I kept from everybody. I want to tell him about all the people I pretend to like, but I, honest to God, believe that they not worth the price of air. I want to mention names ..
I want to tell him about my irritating wonders about myself and life in general. Like, why I wake up at night and take off my pajamas. Why I often find my boobs outside my bra .. one or both .. Do I have freakishly rebellious boobs? Do I move a lot while sleeping? Or it’s just that I wear wrong size of bras?
I want to tell him about my deepest weakness that I hide from everybody, even myself. My night’s latest hour secret. My most inner fears..worries ..love..dreams .. and hopes..
Everything that lay coiled in my head ..
I want to tell him about all my embarrassing moments .. about all my flaws ..
All my secret adventures .. The happiest moments I could steal from life ..
I want to prattle for ages .. about everything .. and every sensation .. over a stem of grapes dangled from his hand above my lips, so I can reach up and bite them one by one .. on a comfy love seat .. umm .. dim lighting probably ..
