The Pusher
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Posted:Jun 13, 2020 4:26 pm
Last Updated:Apr 18, 2024 3:52 pm
1695 Views
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You talk like a person on the edge. Like you're leaning further and further out, gingerly probing for that spot where leaning becomes falling. You're clearly waiting for someone push you. say the right things. talk you into something you already know you're going to do.
You're teasing gravity, and gravity, much like me, will grow tired of your games. We will reach and grab you by the throat and pull you down. You speak of your husband as if you aren't ready cheating him. As if it's is just a fantasy. As if by drawing a flimsy line between these letters and actually fucking , that you're somehow sparing him. But it doesn't.
In the end you're going jump, you've already made the decision. You know I'm right. You're going give in this darkness in you, you need too, you've been waiting your whole life too. You've just been holding off, leaning further and further out, staring down, wondering if it will hurt, prolonging the moment because it's a one-way trip. There is no coming back.
Once you give in you will never be clean again. Every interaction with every person you love will be a lie. You will hide the truth from them, for their sake, that you are filth, and you are beyond saving, because you want to be filth. You are already lying to them aren't you? You are already hiding your real self from them aren't you? You will be tainted, spoiled and you will fucking love it. You will revel in it, you will be consumed by it.
And you know what? That moment is coming. Sooner than you might realize. Some night you are going to find yourself in a slow empty ticking silence where there is nothing to drown out the thoughts running through your head over and over and over... And you'll realize that I am out there, That I am real, that you don't even have to go looking. That it is within your power to make it REAL. Suddenly the words won't be enough anymore. You will take a deep breath and blink and suddenly you will be at my door, your hand poised to knock, your will heart racing, your mind will be on fire, fear and excitement and adrenaline will be rushing through your veins and you won't even remember how you got there... and then it will be too late.
I will open the door, and I will invite you in, and there will be no condoms, and there will be no safe word.
After, you will sit in your car, crying, a strangers cum soaking into the upholstery beneath your swollen, sore, bruised cunt and the full realization of what you have done will you. You'll be crushed under a mountain of guilt, and shame, and despair. But your swollen pussy will get wet again and you realize that you will be back for more.
Do you know why? Because you need someone see you for what you really are. Someone see that thing inside that you are so afraid let anyone who loves you see. They would reject you, shake their heads at you, turn their backs, the disgust clear in their eyes. But it will still be there won't it? It will always be there, inside, and if you don't let it out you will go insane, you will never really be complete. So, you need someone. Someone you don't have hide from, someone you can share this horrible secret with.
You need someone who will look you dead in the eye and see the . Not the wife, not the mother, not a or a friend, or a boss, employee or a sister. A filthy, disgusting, worthless fucking . You crave that freedom, freedom from fear of consequences. You need be exposed, stripped bare. You need be punished.
This is why you have been waiting jump. You need a witness. And now you know I am at the bottom, looking , with a crooked smile and a beckoning finger, waiting for your swan dive.
You will learn compartmentalize what happens beyond the threshold of my doorway, just like you hide these letters now. You will bury it so that you can cope with it, until the pressure forces you crack and you need it again. You will learn lie, a moment's notice. Your mind will find it has a hundred, no, a thousand explanations for why you have that bruise, that welt, those friction burns that seem always reappear just as they're healing. You will parlay any signs of suspicion, or mistrust into insecurity on another's part. Your boyfriend will find, much to his confusion, that he is both the recipient of unexpected adoration and sweetness, and clueless as to just what he did wrong.
Of course, I wouldn't be surprised to find out that some of this was already going on. That when you look in the mirror at a restaurant, or a friend's house, or as you're brushing your teeth, knowing that he is in the other room, waiting for his wife to share their bed...you have these moments of panic inducing clarity, that the person you see is a lie and if you're not careful, the mask will slip.
Interesting how falling feels so much like flying until you bottom isn't it? You will climb back , over and over, and you will make promises yourself, but you will always see the edge out of the corner of your eye and you will know that if you just take a few steps, you will be flying again... for a moment.
Do you know why people who deal heroin are called pushers? Because they look for people the edge, flirting with gravity, and they give them a shove. That's what I am. A Pusher. And you, my dear, are a junkie.
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