Lesbian Bed Death

We used to want each other desperately. I craved your skin on mine every hour of the day, to the point that I was dysfunctional in any context that wasn't being right by your side, alone with you. On my daily drive, flashbacks from the night before would disturb me while I tried to navigate around town. Touching you was exhilarating in a way that nothing else in my life had ever been. I got high on you every night and didn't care that I spent the next morning hungover. I went days without going home--your place became my home. I needed to do laundry, go to class, get my homework done, but I was a slave to the steps that led up to your door. I was chained to your bed, whipped by your lips. We didn't sleep, we forgot to eat. We were all we needed. You were the first person to ever make me feel that way, the first person I didn't have to force myself to love. The first person I didn't have to falsify or muster up affection for. You were my first and one true love. Then the distance came and we went weeks without each other, a withdrawal not even getting sober ever out me through. I longed for those rare weekend nights where I would drive for hours just to see you for an afternoon. I shook with anticipation with my hands on the steering wheel the whole way down the interstate. I made up lies to cover my tracks down that well-worn piece of I-40. Each time I crossed the Tennessee River and came home to you, I was made whole again by your embrace.

Then the day we had counted down to for two years came and we finally got to be together. No secrets, no lies, no shame, no distance, nothing kept us from each other any more. We had no more walls between us, no more barriers, no more flaming hoops to jump through. So we tied the knot and I wonder if that knot was a noose around our necks, choking out the feelings we once had for each other? Of course, I still love you and I know you love me too, but the love that exists between two sisters or dear friends more closely resembles the love between us now than the love we had for each other those breathless nights in your dorm room bed. We didn't care then, that the twin sized mattress was too small, that your roommates were home, that we had to wake up early in the morning. Nothing, not even the threat of expulsion from our good Christian campus could keep us from finding each other. The attraction between us, like a magnetic force, could not be bested. Now, it seems that any excuse is good enough for you to reject me. If this was just a symptom of age or time, and if this part of our lives gradually declined at an equal rate for both of us, maybe then this wouldn't be so hard. But I still want you like I wanted you all those years ago. I still want you like I used to want you for weeks. I still want you enough to drive three hours just for another hour with you. I still want you. I still need you. What will it take for you to remember those wild nights we once shared? What will it take to bring you back to where it began? What will it take to make you want me again?