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Slipping Away

You’re slipping away from me.

Yes, you walked away months ago, but I thought could hold onto memories and moments, scents and remembered touches. All of those are starting to slip away. The hurt feels fresh each time I realize I’ve lost another piece of you.

I don’t remember the smell of your cologne anymore. I may remember the type until the day I die, but I can’t smell it when I close my eyes anymore.

I don’t remember the way your hands felt on my body. You were imprinted on me, on my flesh, in my soul at one time. I’m losing that part of us.

I remember the sparkle of your blue eyes. I remember how the sound of your voice made my body quiver. I remember so much, but you’re still slipping away.

I don’t remember every detail of your voice anymore. I remember your words, your favorite expressions, the accents you could do with ease. I remember the night of your Irish lilt and the way your voice made me cum. But I don’t remember the timbre anymore. I don’t remember the tone. You’re slipping away.

As each little detail leaves, I lose you all over again. The pain feels fresh each time. I feel myself trying to recreate the walls around me that are slowly weakening. I’m tired of hurting, but I hate losing you in this new way.

I know that time marches on. I know that this is inevitable. I feel like a traitor because I can’t seem to hold on. I worry that I’m weak because I’m willing to find small bits of happiness even though they don’t match what I had with you.

You were imprinted on my heart from the moment I met you and each time another piece pulls away, a wound opens back up. I bleed and staunch the wound so no one notices it. I feel like a traitor to the people who have grown to care for me. Why do I hang on to you so tightly when there are others who want to love me – or at least like me – a little?

You’re slipping away from all over again, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

About the author

Kayla Lords

I am an erotic author, sex blogger, podcaster, freelance writer, an opinionated marketer, and speaker. You can find me online sharing my innermost sexual thoughts and experiences, teaching other bloggers how to make money writing about sex, and helping kinksters have healthy BDSM relationships. I'm also a masochistic babygirl submissive with an amazing and sadistic Daddy Dom and business partner, John Brownstone. Welcome to my kinky corner of the internet!


  • Sweet girl, you are healing. That is what happens when you heal. The pain comes up to the surface once again, and then moves into the past. Knowing you’re healing doesn’t make it any easier, I know.

    • My little side doesn’t WANT to fucking heal! I want what I had because for the only time in my life I almost had something that was RIGHT…I know it wasn’t right or I would still have it. If the gods, fates, WHATEVER had thought it was right, I’d still have it. But I don’t, and I get so mad about it sometimes.

      I don’t get to be angry at him. He didn’t lie. He didn’t cheat. He didn’t use or abuse. He had shitty luck and I had shitty timing and it’s not fucking fair! /tears

      All I get to do is be sad. There is no closure. There is no real ending. There’s just an empty fucking space where he used to be, and I can’t just get over it and move on. Even though there’s a part of me that desperately wants to just so I can feel normal again.

      • You don’t have to be angry at him. I feel your tears. It really sucks to want someone you don’t have. Really, really sucks.

        Can you make closure? Can you let the memories go?

        In group last night, I shared how I was putting my past in containers and storing them away, trying to let go. I was asked why I couldn’t just burn them up, leave them behind forever. I’m not sure I know how to do that, but I’m going to try. I’m going to attempt to leave the past in the past, maybe find my way to normal.

        Whatever the hell that is…

        • I have no interest in letting them go completely. My memories of him are beautiful. If I allow myself to forget, I might forget that he set the standard for how what I expect and how I feel I should be treated. The bar has been set high because of him. Allowing those memories to burn away will change that, I think.

          • After I commented last night, I lay in bed and thought about what utter crap it was. I don’t know anything about forgetting. If I did, I would have gotten more than two hours sleep last night. I’d be able to go to bed without worrying what unhealed memories are going to attack me afresh.

            I”m sorry I suggested that. It was, in essence, well intentioned but utter bull.

        • My normal, for a long time, was “not so sad” and then for a short moment in time, it was happy, content, secure, relaxed, loved…and then normal became “heartbreak” and now it’s back to “not so sad.” /sigh

      • It will, the man I thought I loved 5 years ago..lets just say it took a year plus…Well we spoke a few weeks ago and I dont even feel a thing…This was vanilla but I did wait for him while in Iraq, it wasnt virtual real life but now he is coming to where i live, once my only desire now I could care less…I see him for what he is; not the man i love anymore..Just keep breathing…Hugz

        • Maybe so. But maybe not. My first love was when I was 16. I have no interest in him in a sexual or romantic way, but I’m pretty sure if I had the opportunity to see him again, I would be all a flutter.

          Lion will not be classified as someone I thought I loved. I still love him…he’s just relegated to the dark recesses of my mind and heart.

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