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You've been gone for 66 days now. You were the only person I could be 100% vulnerable with. My best friend. The only person that could make me orgasm and not feel disgusting afterwards. I thought I was okay and I could handle you being gone, but I am slowly breaking down. I get so scared whenever I start to turn into a zombie. I get so scared.. So scared I'm going to crumble and I am going to stay that way because you aren't here to put me back together. I need you. For 66 days I've been left here with no one to hug and hold on to. No one to kiss and share affection. No one to connect with the way we connect. I've been so lonely for 66 days. Last night I broke. I left from work and something was different. I could feel the wall around my heart cracking and allowing the temptation seep through. I turned into someone else. A zombie. Not a zombie that wanted to hurt someone, but a zombie who wanted to be loved. Who wanted connection. I stopped at 7-11 and nervously bought a pack of Newport shorts and a gray lighter. I was so nervous, I was shaking. I wasn't thinking straight. I was a zombie. I was yearning to feel something. ANYTHING. I was willing to do whatever I could to run away from being a zombie. I texted him. I told him I was smoking. He knew I was vulnerable. He sent me his location. I went to him with nothing on my mind but you. I was a zombie and you've been gone for 66 days. I still didn't feel anything. I was on my second cigarette. I pulled up. It didn't even register where I was, who I was looking at. I smoked a 3rd one, with him. We went inside. I talked to you and lied. I said I was going to sleep, but I wasn't. I was a zombie. I felt nothing when I lied. I was convinced I would never feel anything again. When we got off the phone, we watched a movie. We talked and caught up on the old days. And then I started feeling something. My vagina was pumping with blood. My sensory organ was pounding. I was a zombie yearning for affection. Touch. Real life touch. We touched. We cuddled. I was processing but I couldn't process enough because you were in my head. You've been gone for 66 days and you were pounding, softly but so aggressively in my head. I did it anyway. The zombie needed a release. The zombie needed to feel again. The zombie needed to connect somehow, some way. The zombie kissed him and the zombie road him. But the zombie still didn't feel anything. The zombie left after convincing herself she was okay with what happened. She went to her loved one's house and slept. I woke up the next morning. I was still a zombie but I was a cognitive zombie. Fully aware and sorry. You called me and I thought for sure you knew, but you didn't. I knew you could never find out. I told you about the cigarettes and you were heart broken. I got home and took a long shower. I scrubbed myself, I scrubbed the bottom of my tub. I was still a zombie. She called me and finally.......... The zombie was gone. I realized what I did.
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