Sunday Scribblings (Pleasure)

This week's word is “Pleasure":

I watched from across the room as your shoe hung from its living partner. In that moment, I wanted little more than to guide my hand from that appendage up across every inch of your epidermis. It was a dream, I knew as much, but needed something to get me through the boredom of my life. But days in, the imaginary you, the one that traced my body with her tongue and panted my name in the darkness, failed to complete my emptiness. I needed you, and the freedom that would bring.
. . . .
You were everything I ever thought one could be. Fun was has, time was spent, stories were swapped, and tentative plans were hatched. Life, as least as far as I could see it, was good. That is not to say that we did not struggle, flight, and swear each other off, but . . . . I had your love, and in that, I had everything.
. . . .
The skies, as they always do, turned. I failed to live up to expectation. I excel at that. You accepted my failure, and turned away. It is not, regardless of my response, what I wanted. If only you could see inside me, you would see a man who struggles without the only woman who ever brought him true pleasure.