damik's Diaryland Diary

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Car

I'm sitting here kicking myself for being so selfish. Demanding the car. I should be bigger then that. Maybe on a subconsious level I'm trying to get back at him for being so selfish in our relationship. Ok, maybe I really do believe that I desearve the car because I basiclly prostitiuted myself for it. As he told me over and over that I owed it to him. That we should fuck because he let me have the car. Every reason in the book he gave as he shamelessly begged and I cried and repeatedly told him no. In the end it didn't matter, the reasons, the begging, the refusal, none of it mattered. It doesn't matter what I want, and I'm just a thing for his amusement. I can't fight him. Truely if we were to go 'toe's' I could win. But psychologialy I can't fight him. I don't matter that much. So I lay there as he fucked me. Hurting deep inside. And despite how the poem goes I culdn't hold inside my tears. They streamed down my cheeks wetting the pillow. But they didn't matter much either. He kept asking me 'Does that feel good to you?' 'Do you like that?' 'I knew you would.' And when he was done I ran into the bathroom and sobbed. And when I came out, I couldn't look at him the same. I felt sick to my stomach. So I held on to the reason that it was for the car. And when he asked for the car back, I couldn't ask for my dignaty back, for my self respect. He already took them and now they are his forever. So whats a car? It seems so little to ask. Then why do I feel so guilty? Am I taking that much from him? I gave so much, for so little in return. Is it so much to ask?

Is it too much to ask?

10:54 a.m. - 07-06-2001
0 comments

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

previous - next