For the first time, my brain isn’t dying to escape, too high in the clouds for me to focus on anything other than the way he’s making me feel. He loves me. And I can feel it with every swipe of his tongue. Every imprint of his fingers as they bruise my fragile skin. I’m not an optimist. There’s no healing for me. Most days it hurts to breathe, and most nights the sleep never comes. But maybe tonight I’ll be granted some relief. A respite from the traumas that have shaped my entire life. Maybe tonight, Alex can be my drug.
