Tell Me a Lie

by Brianna Flores

"I know it's not real. I––you don't have to mean it. Just think of it as a lie. Please? Just tell me a lie, and I'm yours."

He just can’t help it that he’s awkward. And I happen to find that part of him endearing. It’s so fucking cute, and isn’t that just disgusting? I’m thirty-five years old and completely enamored with this barely legal kid.

Cute isn’t an adjective that I use a lot, but I look at him, and I swear I just want to barrel into him, sweep him into my arms, and fucking squeeze. Cute aggression is real, and it’s maddening.

He gives me a tiny smile, so fucking sadly sweet that I instantly know there’s no hope for me. I am obsessed with him, and there’s no way that’s changing anytime soon.

have to tell my hole to behave. It won’t stop clenching. Empty is a feeling that I’m familiar with, but my butt is new to it. I feel bad for it. For my butt.

Sickening. It feels like it’s true. It feels like I deserve that label, like I am that word, so often, and it’s times like this when it’s just so hard to ignore. If nothing is wrong with me, why don’t they love me?

You don’t become the kind of person who goes to gay bars to find a stranger just to ask him to tell you he loves you without getting acquainted with the feeling of being unloved. That’s not normal. I’m not normal. I just want someone to want me. To want to keep me. To be sad when I disappear, not relieved.

"Your little hole is so fucking needy, just desperate for a cock, huh?"

"Cock makes you crazy, pretty baby." "Yours." My tone is defensive because I know he’s right and a little insecure about it, but it’s important that he knows that it’s just his cock that makes me crazy. It’s him.

"Please lie to me. One more time, please."

I don’t mind telling him that I love him, lying to him. Mostly because I’m not all that sure that it is a lie.

There is so much wrong with me, it’s pathetic. I’m pathetic. I am – to my absolute core – just flat-out wrong. My entire being, my existence, my everything is like one big wrong answer.

She has no choice because I’m keeping him. That’s already a done deal. I hardly even have a choice in the matter. He’s just mine.