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The way she touched me. It was weird, it was new. Different. I haven't felt anything like that in sweeps, I've barely felt my own skin. I haven't touched my face, my cheeks, my lips. I haven't touched my hair or horns. I haven't touched myself in a very long time.
Why would I?
It's not like I can feel anything. I literally can't feel my legs and everything is always so…
Numb.
But when her hands touched my face, that felt real. I felt something, something, anything. For the past sweep, sweep and half, that's all I wanted. I just wanted to feel. I just wanted to feel something. And I hate that it was her. She made me feel something. She made me feel something so good it made my life worse. I want to feel it again. But it would ruin everything. Everything that's already been ruined. I've been ruined.
It was just a kiss, a kiss and some mind control. It wasn't that bad, why is it affecting you so much? People would call you LUCKY. You got touched by a girl, I mean, it's about time, right?
Growing up alone is confusing. Not having a lot of friends and a horrible dating life, odd interests. Nobody gets you and the people that do get you hate you as much as they hate themselves. I never know what's normal in these situations. I'm lost. Is this normal? Are friends like this? Are “enemies” like this? Are partners like this? What's the norm, what's not. I wish I knew.
I wish I felt, felt my emotions in a healthy way, felt my skin. It's so numb. All, the, time. Vriska made me feel something. If I ask her to do it again, to kiss me, it would be weird. She'd call me a creep, a weirdo, a pervert. Tell everyone I want to fill her quadrants, she'd say I harassed her. Or maybe she wouldn't, maybe she would kiss me. But do I really want that? Do I really want her to ruin me even more? No. Not really. But the offer still stands.
It's weird, I still feel her lips on mine. It wasn't for that long. Whenever I see her I still get those thoughts to kiss her. I would never want her to feel like this. The way I feel…never. This is horrible. So conflicting.
No, I'm wrong. I don't want this, I don't want that. I don't want her to kiss me, I don't want her to touch me. I don't…want……this……
I still hear her voice. I don't know why I'm panicking. I let her do it. It's my fault. If anything, I led her on, I was asking for it. I clearly never said no. I can't blame her. It's all she knew, she wanted this, she's young, our society is fucked, she was groomed into this lifestyle, she was doing this for me, she cares about me, she's my friend. She did this for me. She helped me. She helped me feel real.
She said sorry, what for? I'm not sure. She has nothing to apologize for. I liked it, I LOVED it. I want it to happen AGAIN. It was great! My first kiss, done without my consent, without me even being fully conscious, isn't that beautiful? Romantic? Red- even? I should ask her out. Ask her to be my matesprit. Maybe she doesn't want that, we could be kissmesis? Pale? I need her in my life. I need to feel like that again. I need this, I need her-no. I need that feeling.
That rush. The feeling of feeling. It wasn't her, it was the feeling. I need someone to touch me like that, to treat me like that. To hurt me like that. Not physically, mentally. I can't stand staying in this loop. I need to hurt myself, I need to find someone who can hurt myself.
I need to feel. I need to feel myself. I need to feel the shock of lips on lips. I need to feel someone's teeth graze my bottom lip while they hold me, hold me tight. I want to taste the taste of another tongue. It felt so much I could almost feel my legs.
I had been so focused on my thoughts I hadn't even noticed where my hand was.
Hovering over the big bronze “UNBLOCK” button. Right, I had to unblock her. My friends convinced me to block her but how would they know if I unblocked her. I click it.
That numb feeling washes over me again as I type into the message box, “hEY IM SORRY FOR BLOCKING YOU,,” No. I erase that.
“hEY, hOW ARE YOU”
Delete.
“hI VRISKA”
Discard.
“uHH”
The trash.
“i UNBLOCKED YOU, nOT THAT YOU CARE”
Backspace.
“hI”
No.
“uH, vRISKA,,”
No.
“sO,
I stop typing, a message from her popped up. “You know I can see you typing, right?”
“oH” “Yeah, what's up? What do you need?” “i JUST WANTED TO SAY HI AND UH, sORRY FOR BLOCKING YOU” “Okay.”
I'm sweating so bad, I feel the cool, slimy liquid drip and ooze down my forehead. I wipe it away and I attempt to continue writing until I hear my door open.
“hELLO?”
“Taaaaaaaavvvrrrooosss!!!!!!!!”
I sweat even more, taking off my over shirt and sitting on the floor, off my wheelchair. I grab a tissue box and dab away the sweat.
These pants were always bigger on me, I can tell with how they slightly sag, considering I have lost some weight that adds to the lack of proper fitting.
Vriska enters, looking me up and down. I'm holding used tissues, visibly sweating, my pants slightly sagging, wearing one less layer of clothes and I'm on the floor. I see how this can come off as odd and inappropriate. Which would explain the yelling and immediate slap to the face I get. The slap honestly feels better. It definitely causes my body to feel something, not to the point where I can feel my legs but I think that's good! I shouldn't feel my legs. My lack of responses earns me a few more slaps until she eventually leaves.
I deserved that. At least I feel something, even if it is temporary.