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As I drove through some of the worst rain we've had in a while, I knew in the pit of my stomach the last place I should be, is exactly the place I was speeding through a storm to. The weather should have been a sign but who the hell listens to those. I canceled plans I probably shouldn't have canceled. I left someone who cares about me hanging while I sped off to spend time with someone who I know probably doesn't give a shit about me. And I use the word probably to try to make myself feel better about the fact that I know he doesn't. 

See I'm trying to make myself feel better about this because I haven't fully been able to let him go. And it's not just him. See any other guy can give me what he gives me. Deep down I know there are guys who can give me that and a hell of a lot more. Yet even as I told myself this, I still went. 

Getting there is always the same. Never any real acknowledgement of the effort it took to get there or simply of my presence. No real hello. No mention of all the time that has passed since the last random text message to "chill" that lead to another one of these encounters that I probably shouldn't have had. 

All I got was being lead to the couch, a sarcastic remark made about something on the tv, to him then jumping up to ask if I want a drink. Beer or a mixed drink were my options. Mixed drink it was. As the night wore on our bodies moved closer to each other till eventually his arms were wrapped around my body. I realized then that I craved that touch more than anything.

The hands of a man are an incredible thing. His hands were nothing special, any other man could have done the same. But in that moment it was him that was offering it. That alone seemed to make it all worth it. It quieted the voices in my head screaming as things became more...

I justified the empty feeling after our bodies has gotten as close as any body can get. I justified the lonely feeling as he snored with his back to me while he hugged a pillow that night. 

He wasn't special. 

He offered what other men offer all the time. A night. An experience. I got exactly what he offered. All he's ever offered is just that. Nothing real. Nothing special. Nothing worth all the effort or emotions that it did. But I did it to myself. It wasn't the first time, but I need it to be the last time. No more feeling empty or lonely when in moments like those I shouldn't feel anything less than cherished, special, and adored.

I won't accept less and I hope you don't either.

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