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I want to feel it again

It’s addicting, overwhel ive Ethan what he wants so that I can feel like that again And again And again

I want his ers deep inside ly, I want to do the same to him I want to kneel in front of him and take hi hihtether to stop the incessant ache But at the same time, nervousness skitters downBecause it always does

Refusing to go there, I focus on the daure out what I’ it into the kitchen right now and using it to whip up a strawberry shts really mine, or are they the fantasies of this other side of me? The side that Ethan breathes life into, that hassimply because it will make hi and trust him to catch me if I fall?

I think about the stairs today, about that strong hand reaching out and grabbing ainst hiainst ain?

It’s theabout it e a little deep inside I push the blender away, proain

I’ain Not for Ethan Not for my parents Not for anyone Not any whateveror dangerous or just plain bad for me Even hat they asked broke et away froether into the ive that all away again If I just turn it over to Ethan with his gentle hands and doit, one painful piece at a time And I will not turn control of ain

I turn to walk away, to put as much distance between the blender and ain fall on the blue envelope resting on top of the blender It’s large and bu other than just a letter

I want to knohat’s in it Which is why, even as I tellfor it I can no more leave it there than I could fly to the moon under my oer

As I touch the envelope for the first tiave Ethan a typed-up note on flimsy computer paper in a standard envelope He sends me an envelope of the most exquisite stationery, thick and soft and obviously expensive

Did he do it on purpose, to highlight the difference in our circuet whatever he wants, even if what he wants is me? It’s a terrible way to think about abut kind to me, but I kno rich men are How they take what they want and to hell hoever gets in their way

It’s why I’o, in fact Because it’s as far away fro that happened there--as I can get and still be in the contiguous United States

So many reasons for me to put the envelope back into the box and walk away

So many reasons for me to not even think about Ethan, let alone stand here like a lovesick fool wondering about the words he wrote

I spent hours on the letter I sent hih it was I know he spent not a fraction of the same amount of time on this, a metaphor if ever I’ve lived one And yet…and yet I want to knohat he has to say

Being careful to not rip the envelope, I slowly ease the flap back, then reach in to pull out what turns out not to be a card at all, but a collection of s

A long, thick green satin ribbon the exact shade of my eyes

A seashell that still has sand on it, like he picked it up froo

A sexy black-and-white vintage-looking postcard The picture is of a woman with pin-up curves stretched across the bed She’s on her stos kicked up and crossed at the ankles behind her while her chin rests on her hands She’s dressed in nothing but a corset, panties, stockings, and high heels Oh, and gloves Long, black gloves that reach her elbows and so about the whole picture

I blush a little because I can’t help wondering if Ethan was thinking of inedfor her lover Is it wrong that I want him to have done just that?

Or that, if I close ine--just for a moment--that it isthe messed-up, terrified control freak that I am?

What would that be like? To just be noruy’s attention? More, to want it? To anticipate it? It’s been so long since I’ve felt that way that I can’t even re is colored by Brandon, by what he did to me and by what came after

I put the postcard on the table next to the other presents he sentseconds I reach for one of the tea bags with its pretty wrapping, bring it to my nose It smells like strawberries I smile despite my confusion And my pain

I pick up the ribbon next It’s soft and silky and cool as I run it throughto be worn in my hair or around my neck--and I wonder what it’s meant for Why Ethan sent it to me, other than the color