![]() ![]() You’ve made me want something I never thought I would. The only woman I see is you, and I will wait for however long it takes for you to be okay with me touching you. As for me finding someone else, I don’t even notice other women anymore, Zara. “You are so far from damaged goods, you have no idea. I don’t put my hands on her, but fuck I want to. Unable to stop myself, I slide along the couch to her. You should be out there finding someone who does want you to touch them.” ![]() So, to answer your question, I can’t imagine why you’re even bothering to take the time to come here and talk to me about it. I’m damaged fucking goods and I’m sure you have better things to do than wait around for me to fix myself. “I freaked when you touched me, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to cope with a man touching me again. ![]() ![]() “Do I really need to spell it out?” When I don’t answer that, she spews a whole heap of shit at me that we’re going to need to spend time unpacking and putting back together in a better fucking way. I don’t like her tone and I sure as fuck don’t like anything I’m hearing. “I’m thinking that I wish we weren’t having this conversation because there’s no point.” ![]()
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