i always liked the smell of your laundry right before it‘s time to throw it all into the wash. the shirts at the bottom of the basket… because the scent is strongest.

i know how you taste. just a little. did you know that? have you noticed? sometimes i like to look for special pairs of your underwear. the ones with surprises stuck to the inside. did you know i smell them? and taste them? and touch myself to the fact that you exist?

it’s not enough, though.

i wish i didn’t have to be so alone. that sounds kind of weird coming from me, doesn’t it? someone as broken as i am. (actually, do you even know how bad it is?) i’m broken, and you’re the only thing that can fix me. because you’re the only piece that fits. you’re the only one that matters.

i know i’m broken. is that surprising, too? maybe you just thought i wasn’t aware, or something. like i thought i was just a little shy, and i didn’t even know i had anxiety. did you think that of me? i’ve known i was weird for a long time. usually i wouldn’t care. i don’t care about anyone else. but when it comes to you, i just can’t help myself. i can’t help wanting more, and more, and more.

… i can’t tell what you’re thinking. maybe that’s why i keep asking questions. maybe that’s why i don’t show my love for you to your face. maybe that’s why i’m always hiding, rubbing myself against your things and marking everything yours as mine, too. it has to stay a secret, because i can’t tell what your feelings are. you never show them to me. you don’t really talk to me. i’m lonely. it’s painful living like this. did you know that?

do you love me? i love you. all of your things smell like me, you know? i wish the other way around was true, too.

i wish it didn’t end at me and only me. can’t you see how hard it is being someone like me? i can’t love anyone but you. doesn’t that mean you’re the only one i’m able to marry, too? doesn’t that mean you’re the only one that’s allowed to get me pregnant? doesn’t that mean we’re soulmates?

sometimes i listen to you when you jerk off, or when you go to the bathroom. i’m right on the other side of the door. sometimes i watch you sleep at night, and i’m touching myself by your bedside, watching your chest rise and fall. you’re so close that i can breathe you in, and i want to climb on top of you so bad… sticking you inside me and finally fulfilling what we were always meant to do…

but i don’t.

i’m a good girl, right? i’m controlling myself around you. even though my chest feels like it’s about to explode every time i think about you. even though I’m licking your toothbrush, or riding your pillow, or always leaving secret surprises in your laundry basket whenever i have to go to the bathroom. see? i’m waiting so patiently for you.

maybe i need to become more of a woman. maybe you’re just not interested yet because i’m still too childish for you.

but i’m legal, remember? you don’t have to wait for all of that. i’m about to die of hunger here. you just have to show me a sign, and i’ll come chasing after you. just prove to me that you want me back, and we can finally be open and honest with our love. it’s easy; i’ll even show you how.

but, remember… i’m not very good at waiting.