Sunday, May 10, 2015
I woke up crying. Could barely sleep. Diego’s words kept hammering in my head all night.
Diary,
I feel like the biggest dumbass in the world, for real.
And Carol’s right. Like always, huh?
Diego just uses me and I hate myself for it. I spend hours trying to figure out why he does this to me, like there’s some answer that’ll finally give me peace. All I wanted was to be his girlfriend. I’d give everything, literally everything, just to be the girl he loves.
Is that asking too much, diary? Is it too much to want to be loved back?
Fuck, the worst part is I still dream about him. Every single day. Dream we’re walking barefoot on Geribá beach, holding hands. We laugh about stupid shit, he looks at me all sweet, like I’m the only one. Then he pulls me close, kisses me slow, no rush, no making me drop to my knees and suck. Just kisses me, like I’m really his girlfriend, not the cousin he fucks on the down-low.
Then I wake up.
And he’s still Diego. Same as always. Bad boy, ogre, rough, bossy, arrogant, and a total asshole down to the last hair on his head.
I hate the way he wants to control everything. Hate how he always thinks he’s in charge, hate that smug little smile like he knows he can fuck me whenever he wants, hate how much he makes me cry. But the worst part is I hate that I can’t hate him. Not even a little, not for a second.
He’s like cum: sweet on the tongue but bitter at the end. And even with that bitter taste sliding down my throat, I come back, always come back. Because he’s my favorite drug. And I’m addicted to him.
3:20 p.m.
I was at the pool at home, lying on the lounge chair, catching some sun and listening to music with my headphones in.
Felt my phone vibrate. It was a message from Diego.
— Hey my little whore. Come here, I’m dying to eat you out.
Shit, I wanted to ignore it, but my pussy throbbed right away, traitor, like my body forgot everything he said yesterday. I stared at the screen for a few seconds, heart pounding.
Started typing, deleted it… typed again. Sent just:
— Hey, Diego.. not now.
He replied almost immediately, but I didn’t even read it, just ignored it.
A few minutes later the phone rang. It was him calling. I answered on the third ring, voice already kinda cold.
— Hey, Diego, I’m at the pool, dude. Trying to relax and you’re over here bothering me… don’t you got nothing better to do?? It’s Sunday, right? Go to the movies with your little girlfriend.
He went quiet for a second on the other end. Then his voice came out low, pissed off, and in control:
— Rafa, cut the bullshit and get over here. Now, goddammit. I’m not gonna say it again.
I still tried to hold out. Wanted to keep that ice-queen act. But the way he said it… that tone that doesn’t take no for an answer… made me shake on the inside. Yesterday’s anger was still there, the “zero romance” still stung, but my body was already giving in.
I stayed on the lounge chair a few more minutes, heart hammering, pussy throbbing and I couldn’t stop it. In the end I got up, grabbed my towel, just threw on some shorts and headed over to his place.
I hated how easy it was for him to make me obey.
I was cursing myself with every step. “You’re an idiot, Rafaella. A fucking idiot.” But my feet kept moving, like they had a mind of their own, deaf to everything my head was screaming. When I reached his bedroom door, I took one last deep breath and walked in, ready for whatever.
The worst part is he knows how to be sweet, gentle, and attentive… but only when he feels like it. In a way that completely undoes me. Those are the moments he wins easy. One little caress on my face, one hot kiss on the back of my neck, one “come here” whispered in my ear… and that’s it, I’m disarmed. All the anger I’d been holding onto all morning melted in seconds.
Because the usual between us was him throwing me to my knees and ordering, no bullshit: “Suck.” Like my body only existed for that. Like I was just an object, a toy always ready to make him cum. But this time it was different.
When I opened the door, he came over to me. Instead of yanking or cursing, he ran his thumb across my face real slow and kissed the back of my neck. Low, hot. I almost closed my eyes right then. Smelled his cologne, felt the heat of his body so close to mine. Every bit of that ice-queen act I’d practiced vanished in seconds.
He gave me a smile and picked me up all playful, tossing me on the bed. He was being light. We spent a good while just making out, enjoying each other like we were actually a couple. I went soft and completely surrendered.