I stare at my reflection lit by computer screen as tears pour down my cheeks. I've been here so many times. Looking through profiles of men trying to find one that will love me. One that will accept me as I am. Desperate for the touch of a male at any cost. Knowing that all they want is skin-to-skin contact and that they will never touch my heart. I've perverted my need for emotional connection into a desire for physical intimacy. My flesh wants to destroy what's left of my heart. The pleasure lasts for a night, but sobs come in the morning. Every single time. And yet I continue seeking more punishment for the temporary relief. It's so tragic how depraved my soul is. What it will exchange for some sort of short-lived affection. What it accepts in the place of what it truly craves: comfort, vulnerability, love. 

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