Cupidity- Prose from Journal Excerpts

-The first half was written in the beginning of September.-

 Lust and all feelings have returned with a vengence...

I think about you more than I ought to. So much more then I mean to. 

I Don't like it. Rati please leave me alone if I can not be satisfied. Please. I never meant to summon you. I have never touched you before. Your hands have brushed mine. It felt like an electric shock. slowly strumming through my veins. You send me mixed signals green means go gogogogo! Ouch. But what if it's red? Red hot. Hot burns. I don't want to think of you... Everyone else is a disappointment. Every fucking time. I try to tell myself. That it is not you. It is what you symbolize . What the fuck does that even mean? You have established yourself and I am still on my way. That is what that must mean. I admire you. I respect you. You make me smile. I can smile without you. I can not find meaning in this, because this is different than anything I have ever felt for anyone. 
I am kidding myself. I wish it was merely carnal. 
Aphrodite, be kind to me, please do not toy with a mortal young woman. 
Where is your sister? Take my right hand Athena and please grant me wisdom. 
Be just with me and all women who suffer this folly. 
Hermes, please won't you take my left hand? 
I beg you to be swift with and more cunning than I am.
You surely are. Then it would be simple. 
I still want this "you". It is hard for me to give my body to anyone else.
 I am cold at the thought. 

Though I have no definite reason to do so. 
No certainty or guarantee of any kind. 

I am saving it for you. 

This You. 

This irrevocable thought of you. 

The reappearance of you in thought. 

You who?

A featureless desire.

I think that your kiss would be what it ought to be.

 I think your hands would know exactly where to go as if pulled by an invisible string. 

You would just inherently know how firm and how gentle and when and where and how? 

But it is never that perfect. Is it? No. Hell no. Could it be? 

I looked up the antonyms of every word describing how I feel for someone I was with last and the feelings I have for you match. The best sex of my life was with a stranger. A one night stand. 

I was only fifthteen. The second best was my Antonio. My First love. We were together almost everyday, more then once a day- now that I think about it. We were crazy for one another. 

But we had time to each others bodies. It was awkward at first. 

So yes I think It must be some kind of romanticism. 

My body doesn't know you! 

Yet... There I go again. Goddess damn it all! Take this fervor from me. 

This Imagination of mine will be my ruin or my salvation.

 I could almost feel your hands as I type this. It's stirring inside me again. 

 I. Aphrodite. Mary. Rati. You. Who?

Five months later and five crushes later, I write the following in my journal...

Today is about giving credit where credit is due. 
I have displayed changes in my character, an acceptance and a certain level of behavioral maturity that I never thought I would ever reach. 

I have been able to maintain a friendship with a male, whom I do find attractive. 
Yet, I do not act upon these thoughts or impulses. 
I do not even vocalize them to him in anyway that would be considered flirtatious. 
I value the friendship so greatly, and his monogamous relationship, that I put neither at risk. 

This may seem trivial to some, perhaps even a “Well, obviously…” but this is not natural for me. 

I have never valued friendships, not totally. 
Nor have I put much consideration into other people’s feelings in the way I do now. 
This has come not just merely from having a conscious again. 
I think I finally understanding what a friend is. Being a friend is a verb.

It also came from the experience of being the girl that was betrayed in this way. 
To say that it is a terrible blow would be an understatement.
 I would never wish that kind of betrayal on another. 
Especially if this friend loves this “other”, this would cause him pain as well. 
I do not walk around causing havoc anymore, a terrible wake in my path. 
I like that, it feels so much better this way. 

Of this, I am proud.
I acknowledge this growth and quite frankly am struck dumb at its appearance.

Mary Catherine, Cowardice Queen