{"id":15,"date":"2015-03-10T17:03:47","date_gmt":"2015-03-10T17:03:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/?p=15"},"modified":"2015-03-10T17:03:47","modified_gmt":"2015-03-10T17:03:47","slug":"i-answer-in-fear","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/?p=15","title":{"rendered":"I Answer in Fear"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"men\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I didn’t want to sit there<\/p>\n

in that parking lot<\/p>\n

mouth on your crotch<\/p>\n

or holding you in my\u00a0hand, even.<\/p>\n

You asked me if I wanted to<\/p>\n

“see it”.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

No.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

No is always the answer.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I never want to peep.<\/p>\n

It never, ever<\/p>\n

fills me with awe, or excitement, or joy.<\/p>\n

Or, peace.<\/p>\n

Ever.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Until<\/p>\n

Unless<\/p>\n

you make me believe<\/p>\n

you want me<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Until<\/p>\n

Unless<\/p>\n

I<\/em> matter.<\/p>\n

Until<\/p>\n

Unless<\/p>\n

looking at pieces of you<\/p>\n

reveals an entirety<\/p>\n

of something more, other<\/em>.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But I couldn’t simply tell you that.<\/p>\n

I had to tell you<\/p>\n

something<\/p>\n

nice<\/p>\n

good<\/p>\n

not true<\/p>\n

so you wouldn’t go away,<\/p>\n

so you’d<\/p>\n

maybe<\/p>\n

want me eventually.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

To tell you I wanted to matter<\/em> to you<\/p>\n

It’s steep<\/p>\n

Too dear to expose in a parking lot<\/p>\n

on a thirty minute lunch<\/p>\n

when you want my answer to just be<\/p>\n

Yes.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

How do I tell you that those desires are gifts you unlock<\/p>\n

with soft kisses<\/p>\n

eye contact<\/p>\n

fingers on my face<\/p>\n

protective embraces?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Give me<\/p>\n

Security<\/p>\n

Hope<\/p>\n

Respect<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

How do I tell you that<\/p>\n

making me<\/p>\n

feel<\/p>\n

believe<\/p>\n

that you want me<\/p>\n

is what makes me want to<\/p>\n

see<\/p>\n

taste<\/p>\n

touch<\/p>\n

to hold you with my tongue in reverence and awe<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

You asked me if I<\/p>\n

wanted<\/em><\/p>\n

you to come in my mouth.<\/p>\n

The answer is<\/p>\n

Maybe.<\/p>\n

Maybe I could.<\/p>\n

But right then,<\/p>\n

right now,<\/p>\n

no.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The questions you didn’t ask.<\/p>\n

Do I want to be with you.<\/p>\n

Do I want to feel you.<\/p>\n

Do I want you to touch me.<\/p>\n

Do I want what you’re wanting to give.<\/p>\n

What do I want to give you.<\/p>\n

You didn’t ask those.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

You did once ask me<\/p>\n

if<\/p>\n

I wanted to be yours.<\/p>\n

The answer I gave<\/p>\n

I don’t know.<\/em><\/p>\n

The answer I knew<\/p>\n

Yes<\/em>.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

You see, each time we’d been together, I felt wanted. And then, we started something akin to making love, something that maybe would have led to that delicious carnality of satiety of being on a longer term basis, something that would have made me tell you Yes. I left you that day with hope, burgeoning security, respect.<\/p>\n

And<\/p>\n

You<\/p>\n

Disappeared.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

And weeks later, you asked for a peep show. And when I told you No<\/em>, that I was an in-person only kind of girl, not a send-pictures kind of girl<\/p>\n

You disappeared again.<\/p>\n

And it left me hurt and frustrated, insecure, reduced.<\/p>\n

Do you want to see it?<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I don’t want coarse, cheap, common, clandestine.<\/p>\n

I don’t want to be bawdy.<\/p>\n

I don’t want to be a prop to a fantasy.<\/p>\n

I want you to make<\/p>\n

time<\/p>\n

effort<\/p>\n

I want your eyes to light up when you see me<\/p>\n

to physically display affection<\/p>\n

in public<\/p>\n

I want to be pretty, worthy, dear, honored, recognized, acknowledged<\/p>\n

to you<\/p>\n

by you<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I didn’t want to sit there in that parking lot mouth on your crotch or holding you in my\u00a0hand, even. You asked me if I wanted to “see it”.   No.   No is always the answer.   I never want to peep. It never, ever fills me with awe, or excitement, or joy. Or, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-personal"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=15"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23,"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15\/revisions\/23"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=15"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=15"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.dirtfarmchronicles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=15"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}