“Let me strip for you” i said to him, and right before his eyes i did just that. All without removing a single article of my clothing. In awe his eyes sparkled brighter than the cartier diamonds that adorned my neck. I knew what it was he craved;Intimacy in its purest form. I unraveled the tightly woven blankets of insecurity and let him see parts of me nobody else had. I always felt more myself at night, more honest. Raw. We were both starved of passion, and after that night we lay intertwined so satisfyingly full. Heads still spinning unaware of the pandoras box we had opened. I felt alive. It eventually did crash and burn as every fleeting star inevitably does but fuck i have never felt so alive.

In todays society i find it almost impossible to find someone who isn’t jaded. Someone who isn’t completely and utterly consumed by their own fear of being naked. To me; being naked is sooo much more than removing your clothes. Many of our “kill counts” exceed single digit numbers but i bet you can count on one hand how many people you’ve felt completely stripped around. By this i mean, the number of people who know all of the depths of what goes on inside your mind. What makes you tick, the triumphs and tragedies that have helped shape and mould you into the individual you are. How many people know the darkest parts of you, and still make the conscious choice to love you anyways ? Who have chosen despite your flaws to be a part of your life? Point proven.

Rejection. A natural human fear. How tragic it is that we are all human but i feel as though as a generation in its entirety we have to stop being so afraid. Not everyone will like you, we all know this. So release yourself from fear of such. We are starving for intimacy, we need that. To feel close to someone. I need that. Validation. In spite of everything i find redemption in knowing that someone knows me. All of me. Everything that has made me the person i am both strengths and weaknesses and chooses me anyways.

We watch these everlasting love stories on the big screen, read classic romance novels and wonder why it is these kinds of love stories have become a rarity. Gatsby loved Daisy unconditionally. Just as sure as he was the sun would rise and set. He was sure he loved her. Just as the ocean waves kiss the shoreline with each crash of the tide no matter how many times they are sent away. Only to return to the vast body of water they came from they returned once more. Just as Gatsby did. Maybe thats a poor example given the ending, but to me it was passionate, messy, raw and overall it was real. It came to an end yes, but doesn’t everything? It’s inevitable. They experienced a love so strong it consumed them. Maybe its naiive to think thats what everyone strives for but i believe to be passionate about something or someone is one of the only thing that makes us feel truly alive.

“Let me strip for you” i said to him, and right before his eyes i did just that. All without removing a single article of my clothing. In awe his eyes sparkled brighter than the cartier diamonds that adorned my neck. I knew what it was he craved;Intimacy in its purest form. I unraveled the tightly woven blankets of insecurity and let him see parts of me nobody else had. I always felt more myself at night, more honest. Raw. We were both starved of passion, and after that night we lay intertwined so satisfyingly full. Heads still spinning unaware of the pandoras box we had opened. I felt alive. It eventually did crash and burn as every fleeting star inevitably does but fuck i have never felt so alive.

In todays society i find it almost impossible to find someone who isn’t jaded. Someone who isn’t completely and utterly consumed by their own fear of being naked. To me; “Let me strip for you” i said to him, and right before his eyes i did just that. All without removing a single article of my clothing. In awe his eyes sparkled brighter than the cartier diamonds that adorned my neck. I knew what it was he craved;Intimacy in its purest form. I unraveled the tightly woven blankets of insecurity and let him see parts of me nobody else had. I always felt more myself at night, more honest. Raw. We were both starved of passion, and after that night we lay intertwined so satisfyingly full. Heads still spinning unaware of the pandoras box we had opened. I felt alive. It eventually did crash and burn as every fleeting star inevitably does but fuck i have never felt so alive.

In todays society i find it almost impossible to find someone who isn’t jaded. Someone who isn’t completely and utterly consumed by their own fear of being naked. To me; being naked is sooo much more than removing your clothes. Many of our “kill counts” exceed single digit numbers but i bet you can count on one hand how many people you’ve felt completely stripped around. By this i mean, the number of people who know all of the depths of what goes on inside your mind. What makes you tick, the triumphs and tragedies that have helped shape and mould you into the individual you are. How many people know the darkest parts of you, and still make the conscious choice to love you anyways ? Who have chosen despite your flaws to be a part of your life? Point proven.

Rejection. A natural human fear. How tragic it is that we are all human but i feel as though as a generation in its entirety we have to stop being so afraid. Not everyone will like you, we all know this. So release yourself from fear of such. We are starving for intimacy, we need that. To feel close to someone. I need that. Validation. In spite of everything i find redemption in knowing that someone knows me. All of me. Everything that has made me the person i am both strengths and weaknesses and chooses me anyways.

We watch these everlasting love stories on the big screen, read classic romance novels and wonder why it is these kinds of love stories have become a rarity. Gatsby loved Daisy unconditionally. Just as sure as he was the sun would rise and set. He was sure he loved her. Just as the ocean waves kiss the shoreline with each crash of the tide no matter how many times they are sent away. Only to return to the vast body of water they came from they returned once more. Just as Gatsby did. Maybe thats a poor example given the ending, but to me it was passionate, messy, raw and overall it was real. It came to an end yes, but doesn’t everything? It’s inevitable. They experienced a love so strong it consumed them. Maybe its naiive to think thats what everyone strives for but i believe to be passionate about something or someone is one of the only thing that makes us feel truly alive.

I dont want romance, that ship has long since departed. I want real. Raw. Pure, untainted intimacy. I want to know you, to know the little intricate details of yourself that nobody else knows. I want to find the spot on your back that makes you breathe differently when I kiss it. I want to become a part of the creative chaos that is your artistic process. I want my name to sound like a melody when spoken from your lips. Make me blush, tell me things that when the words pour from the depths I can hear your voice shake. Let me explore your mind, you can get lost in mine. Let me strip for you, and strip down for me in return. Afterwards ill consider taking off my clothes. Sex is so easy. So incredibly easy. Being naked is hard.

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