Never Have I Ever: Submitted to My Enemy

by Willow Dixon

The object of my desire became my entire world, and I learned everything I could about it, or, in the case of people, I tended to smother them with attention and freak them out.

The people who only like you because of what they think you are will only continue to drag you down.”

I was a chameleon, always had been. I craved acceptance, and I didn’t need therapy to tell me why. Molding myself to match what others wanted me to be was second nature and a way to shield myself from rejection. If someone didn’t like the version of me I’d shown them, then it wasn’t me they were rejecting; it was a persona.

It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy sex—I did—I just had a hard time focusing. Sounds distracted me. Sensations like the way my clothes rubbed against my skin or even a slight breeze hitting my body brought me out of the moment.

Dozens of thoughts raced through my head, most having nothing to do with the act I was currently engaged in. Homework assignments, grocery lists, even song lyrics and movie quotes were on a constant loop in my mind and dragged my focus away from my partner.

Love and hate were two sides of the same coin, both fueled by passion. Most people knew that love could easily shift to hate, but the reverse was also true.

Yet I’d stood there, jealous of my six-year-old sister because she was hugging a guy who felt like mine.

My secret, the one I hadn’t even told Fun about, was that I was a jealous, possessive bastard. When someone was mine, they were mine.

“How does it feel to know it was me getting you off? The guy you hate?”

I wanted someone who could help me self-regulate. Who’d be there when I needed them. Hell, I wanted the reverse too. I wanted to be someone’s person. To be the one they needed. To be their entire world, like they’d be mine. Someone who wouldn’t be scared off by my issues, who could love me, even though I was… me.

But Alex was different. I was in love with him and had been for a while. He was everything. The only person who’d ever broken through my defenses and made me want more. And with him, I didn’t just want more. I wanted everything.

“Love this,” he murmured. “Love you.”

“Do you want to be mine?” I took a step closer. “Yes,” he whispered. “Do you want me to be yours?” His nostrils flared, and heat filled his eyes. “Yes.”

“I also have a toast I want to make. But I don’t know who to make it out to.” “I don’t get it.” “Well, I could toast Alex, my boyfriend. Or I could toast Alex, my fiancé.”