used

There’s two kinds of being used in my world.

1.

When someone doesn’t see you as an individual. You are a body part. You are a female place holder. Anyone could fill this void. Not even a warm body is a requirement.

2.

When you are being used by someone who cares and appreciates you. They are using you in a dirty, degrading, fuck-toy way but they value that you let them do so. The using is going both ways. And really, you aren’t being used at all. It’s just an illusion. It’s kink. It’s sexual preference.

Don’t come at me if I could be replaced by any face or body or blow up toy. If you care then I will give you anything and everything. Nothing I wouldn’t be willing to do to make you happy. NOTHING. All you have to do is be inspired (by me) to want things. And I’ll be inspired (by you) to hand it to you.

This post is inspired by a guy I barely know. I get a few superficial messages from him a few times a week… I went on two dates with him before he left town for work. He asks for pics. There’s no effort in it. All taken for granted. He expects it. I hate that. Show me you care. Just a little. Ask me how my day was. How my week is. How my heart is.

I’m a slut in the fact that I love sex and the dirty kind and a lot of it. But not in a way that I’ll just break it off at your command with no forethought or care for me. Even my rebound neighbor has to try harder than that.

Truth is I’m feeling a bit disposable today. And that’s not a nice feeling. It’s not one that makes me feel like I have worth.

Self doubt, self love, and self worth have taken a nose dive. And I know… I’m just heartbroken. I’ll be okay.

Yeah, I crave company. I crave not being alone. But I don’t need anything that’ll make me feel more disposable and more broken. At least there’s still a shred of self worth enough to know I could make this worse.

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