The soul doctor or doctor O.

So I’ve promised I’m gonna tell you more about my life, the difference between love and lust and being just there, stuck right in between them. 

Man I think this is the first time I wish I’d be writing in my mother tongue rather than English- kidding- what I have to say sounds way better on an international scale. 

Are you ready? Gonna go get rid of the spliff on my nightstand and I’ll be back to it. Ssshhhh and enjoy: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oTzzvlPFArU

Now I’m back… back to you mister O. I always am. Don’t you think this game is costing us a lot of time? Or does it please you, makes you feel all that hot and bothered knowing that some of us have fantasies when it comes to you and your professional touch? 

I met mister O. a long time ago… I’d say about 6 years now. We were young and stupid, now we’re just young and acting stupid. 

I’d love to say more about him but… I can’t. Doctor’s orders. 

That’s one of the things I can say- he’s “almost”a doctor, but he surely does know anatomy. 

And he has a cure for anything, even a broken soul. 

He guided mine through a lot and I thank him for that. He managed to show me there is something more to my life than a “stay home and cook and wait for me” doll. He made me feel like a woman after almost 3 years of terror so that’s why he’s here, or at least that one of the 3 reasons. 

I remember first time seeing him, he drove me to work. It happened so fast but it felt so natural. We spoke and we laughed and I was late at the office haha. And I remember him kissing me the first time. I felt like I was 15 again; I had butterflies- weird feeling with someone else rather than the one that was waiting for me back home. 

He’s a good guy Mister O. He’s kind of my confident so I guess he’s second speciality should be psychology. He can take care of your heart and you mind… and your vagina if I reached that point and I am talking about his qualities. 

So I guess I added two and three at the same time. 

I have a lot of things to tell you about Mister O., but it’s kind of late and I am kind of tired and probably he’s banging one of the nurses right now so I can’t  call him if I get all flustered. 

i’ll get back to you, doctor. Right now I feel I’m slipping away, falling asleep… but I can imagine you staring back at me from between my legs. 

Check my pulse, find the spot, yes, that’s it! 

London Bridge

Hey! I know it’s been a long time since we last spoke… I hope I’m not bothering, I never used to… or you never told me if I did. 

Im already speaking gibberish… excuse me again, but you have to understand how hard it is for me to do it.

I don’t know how to start, what to say… you used to be my best friend. 

I’ve missed you for a long time now. I’ve missed feeling loved by someone, being cherished and appreciated, but most of all I missed the only person who was able to fully understand me, who let me be me without being ashamed.

You know, this year I took my time healing after what happened.  And yet again seeing you, seeing us, going through photos and memories still hurts. Will it ever heal? Will it stop hurting? 

Anyway I’ve been travelling a lot, I went to London again, but without you this time. Landed on the same airport like the first time I saw you… I even took my time there, closing my eyes and remembering seeing you for the first time. Reality hit hard, cause I had to open them and stand alone there, realising you ain’t coming to pick me up anymore.

I know I might seem a bit of a masochist, I recreated the steps we took together that week and added a couple more; it felt empty without you there, even though the city was full of life. How can someone explain that to me? 

D. Was a really good friend, you should appreciate him, he surely deserves it, he took care of me as you told him to. 

Leaving London was hard. Felt like it always did leaving you, but I guess you can’t relate since I was always the one travelling. But let me put it in simple words: imagine having 100 needles pressing down your chest, slowly, rotating, making sure it gets deep down your every nerve till the spinal cord. Reality hit again. I was in a bus, all alone, crying, realising it was over, long time over.

I wish we’d be able to be friends again. 

I think I am ready now. 

Are you? 

Or are you afraid of going back to what it used to be? 

Don’t be, it won’t happen again. You used all the love I had. 

I hope you’re happy with someone else. I wish I’d be able to be happy as well… but no one will be you.