» Does love exist? I don’t know. - read the free sex story.

It’s really hard for a girl to have an unrequited love for a man who doesn’t care about you, who uses you like a toy, all you gotta do is to suffer…

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I was standing in the hall talking to my colleagues, sipping coffee, trying to look as natural as possible. My hands were shaking, I was so tense inside. There was a guy talking more than others. He was smiling amicably saying something. He was standing stooping leaning on the wall, it was making him look shorter. Anyway when I was standing by his side I had to raise my head to look in his eyes. I’d been looking in his eyes too often recently. He shifted from side to side then, enchanting us with his voice, with elocution and argumentation.

****

I was being tortured. He was torturing me. I could lose control for just a second and it hurt so much! Half a second and I was standing on the verge of delirium. His words, his eyes made me lose my head. Resentment, despair, jealousy… some other feelings with no names were filling my soul whenever I was looking at him. I had to focus my attention on something else immediately. I had to think about work… Man, it didn’t help! I had to do something else. Something like… I stuck my nail in the palm, it hurt… but it helped, I got back to reality, I could hear people’s words, seemed like nobody noticed me, that was great. The torture was suspended for a while, but I felt it was about to start all over again soon.

****

None of my colleagues could even think that drinking coffee was a mysterious act, and that all words, eye contact and stuff were of paramount importance and carried secret meaning for me and that handsome man.

I’d been working for that company for two months when they hired a new recruit.

-If you ever have problems with your computer I’m always ready to help, - he said, smiling.

We were greatest coffee-fans in the office so we spend quite a lot of time drinking coffee and chatting, that was a wonderful way to know more about each other. Once when I came to work on Monday morning and said “hi there” he replied in a sweet gentle voice:

-Hi! I’ve been missing you.

I was numb and speechless for a second and then I said quietly:

-Me too.

Later we both wondered how come we managed not to be afraid of each other and not be indifferently polite and cold towards each other. Once he came to work without a ring on his ring finger, I’d never seen his ring again. He became an ideal of a man for me. I had to change my worldview to think and see things like he did. I changed my goals to be closer to him. I was giving him all of my heart and soul, all the tenderness I had hoping to get some love and care in return. I made a lot of stupid mistakes trying to please him, trying to foresee his desires and wishes. My friends loved my enthusiasm and didn’t stop me from making even more foolish mistakes. Even if somebody of them told me to stop and think about the whole thing I guess I didn’t even hear that person.

It lasted for a year. But we didn’t get closer. Seemed we were stuck in the time spiral.

-My attitude to you will never change, - he told me a year ago.

He said the same thing yesterday.

I know the name for the condition when nothing happens. You must be dead if nothing happens and nothing changes, you just don’t care anymore. A corpse doesn’t care if anybody’s thinking about it, or missing it, or wants to see it, or is suffering without it. A corpse doesn’t care if somebody who loves it will forget about it then. A corpse won’t beg you to stay, a corpse always supports your decision, cuz you’re still alive.

*****
I feel terrible when I’m left alone. Nobody can see me and I lose my self control. I haven’t been sleeping for several days. I’m crying silently for nobody to hear my despair. I’m drowning in frustration, thinking that he didn’t look at me, he didn’t touch my hand, he didn’t answer my question, he didn’t smile or laugh. I wanna set myself free of this torture. I can’t believe it’s love. Love must be beautiful and tender, when two souls are longing to be together, when you feel warmth in your heart, when you wanna say: “I’m here, I see you, I love you. I’m happy I have you and I’m happy cuz you love me. There’s daylight, there’s the Sun, there’re many other things in this world, our love is one of them. You can feel it. It means it exists. Love can’t be a fake.”
Once I came home and made myself think everything over clearly. I put down all his shortcomings, trying to concentrate on them. It made me calm down. I was trying to get some sleep. I needed a break, I needed some rest. But I didn’t manage to escape the torture.

I don’t wanna write about it but anyway… I took a bottle of vodka, it’d been standing in my bar for about a year. I started drinking it slowly trying not to miss the moment when I was ready to go to sleep. I missed it. I spent half of the night vomiting (sorry for such a detail). And then I finally fell asleep. Gush, it was so great that I felt so bad. I could lie in my bed and feel sick but feel no inner pain torturing my body and soul.

Then I had a pen-pal:

He: Hi there!

Me: Hi! Who are you?

He: I’m a psychiatrist.

Me: You’re the one I need!

And it started. There were long days dedicated to getting answers. He was asking me questions, telling me something about his life. I was answering him but I still felt pain. Sometimes I could hardly keep myself from crying. I had to run to ladies’ room and wipe my tears and then say I had a terrible headache, sorry. My psychiatrist told me to try to talk to him. I did. I spent a week thinking about it and then I was talking to him on the phone, I was trying to say I wanted us to share something, to have something of our own, I wanted us to go to different places, to do something together. I knew what he would say. And he said. He was very polite saying that we could “share something” but in a while, we needed some more time to know each other, and there was nothing he could do to accelerate the process.

I just wonder what other people do to motivate themselves when they gotta do something they don’t want to? I called my method “to paint myself into a corner”. It was very hard, but I guess there was no other possible way to do it right. The most important thing was to make a decision. And then I started fighting with my own self.

I missed a very significant moment when I finally realized the crucial thing. The crucial thing was that he didn’t need me. I had my pride. How could I love a man who used me as a toy to play? It was impossible. I was repeating one thing for days: proud people don’t cry, they don’t beg for love. That was the only thing I focused on. The phrase was probably stupid but it helped. Soon I managed to live a normal life and feel again.

I’m still working with that guy. I see him every day, we talk, crack jokes. We still love to drink coffee together. But now I see other people too, I see the world around me, I have other interests and other hobbies. I feel perfect, I sleep at night. It’s just sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night cuz I see his face in my dream. I always feel like something is wrong with him. But that’s not my business and I fall asleep again. Maybe IT IS love? I don’t think so.

As it turned out, my psychiatrist wasn’t a professional doctor he was an amateur. It’s just that he had the same situation in his life so he could understand my pain and advise something.

Well, that seems to be the end of my story – I’m looking for a new job at the moment cuz I don’t wanna see him every day cuz I wanna save myself from getting back to chaos. I have a wonderful interesting life and almost never think about him anymore.

Afterword

We were in the elevator. I still can’t say what happened. I was telling him something funny waving my hands. All of a sudden my hands didn’t listen to my order. They didn’t fall down but instead cupped his neck. I found my shivering body in his arms. He was shivering too, he was like crazy, he was kissing me passionately. It was so unexpected for both of us. It lasted for several seconds. Delirious seconds. We arrived. We got out of the elevator. We were calm again. Nothing happened. It was so strange…
Maybe that’s love? I don’t know if love exists at all. I don’t know yet, honestly speaking.

One Response to “Does love exist? I don’t know.”

1. Anonymous Says:
   February 22nd, 2008 at 4:19 pm

   try collecting stamps that story was hopeless

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