Young Writers Society

******

Hannah will never forget those first few days and how it felt when the two of them found each other. How easy it was for her to talk to him, how he made her laugh and smile. Oh, how could she ever forget all the joy he wrapped her in? She will never forget that first real date and how he took her exactly where she wanted to be. Where she needed to be. Oh, how nervous they both were and how his eyes sparkled while he looked at her. He was so excited to hold his hand on her thigh. He stared at her so intensely that he almost crashed them on a small hillside road. She can still remember how impatient he was for that first kiss to happen and how amazing it felt. Doe she remember how she laughed while he kissed her when they got back in the car? It was because Taylor Swift’s song was on, “Shake it off”, and it made her laugh because she felt like they were teenagers again, on a first date, all innocent and shit, not well into their 30’s. She remembers his voice as he spoke, in-between the kisses, into her mouth,about how it feels dangerously good to kiss her, how she could be dangerous for him. She could still feel that chemistry spark that blew up her universe. She remembers how he kissed her and touched her body in that moment, so passionately yet so innocently. How he told her to close her eyes and imagine what would it feel like to have what he was doing with his tongue on her lips, repeated on her throbbing womanhood. Oh my God, she had an orgasm even without him putting his hands underneath her cloths or touching her womanhood. She remembers how he was burning from desire to feel her mouth on his manhood.

She now knows that is what he loved the most. The beginning. Those first flirts. The hunt.

She can still remembers those hugs from their next date, when they spent hours and hours gently exploring each other. She really, really misses how he was that day, at his finest. She has never felt such sexual excitement and such a powerful orgasm without even coming close to penetration. She remembers how her long nails explored his body. She remembers how he shivered the first time she licked his manhood and how she loved his taste, his texture, his shape and dimensions. She thought of it as perfect. She can still hear echoes of his moans from the first time she wrapped her mouth around it. How shocked he was with how good it felt to have Hannah’s mouth warped around his most prized possession. She can remember how shockingly good it felt to push Dean’s manhood deep into her mouth. She remembers their conversation. How he opened up and talked about his heartbreak with tears in his eyes. How she told him all about her own heartbreak, how he soothed her and how they thought it was funny and sweet that they understood each other so well. Dean touched Hannah in all the right ways, both physically and mentally. He woke up the beast and pulled all the right strings.

And then, without any warning signs, he just pulled away and broke her for the first time. It was hard, but it was fine. His roots were still close enough to the surface to be pulled out without consequences. She was thinking how he was just another player, just another stereotype of wannabe man. He got his, so deeply desired, blowjob. He got what he came for and then he ice her out. Hannah tried to talk to him, wondering what happened so suddenly (although suddenly is a relative term in this instance because everything about them was sudden, fast and intense) and maybe she thought he was much more like her, craving honesty and bluntness, and maybe she pushed too hard. She locked him out because she wanted to protect herself. No, she needed to protect herself. She should have left those doors damn well shut! She never should have let him back in.

Hannah tried to move on. She really did. She found a nice guy who liked spending time with her, talking, cuddling, hugging and who took an interest in her, who wanted to know her problems and what is going on in her life in general. Milo tried to get close to her. He was willing to make her a part of his life. He talked to his friends about her and refereed to her as “my Hannah”. He did everything right, and yet, she kept thinking about Dean, who, after all that time, wouldn’t give her any of those things. That’s when Dean reached out again and she fell back into the black hole he created around her. She did something she never thought possible. She decided to cheat on Milo. And she couldn’t even resent Dean this time because he tried to be honest and she chose to risk it and become a cheater. It was her choice to disregard some of the most important principles she had her entire life: not to be a cheater, never allow someone to disrespect her in such a profound way, never to take back someone who broke her heart once and not to lie. Nobody forced her to make those choices, she did it willingly, for him. And then they finally saw each other again. That sex! Oh, my fucking God!!! Sex never felt that good. So liberating, so exciting, so fulfilling and so satisfying. She tried to ask him some stupid question she couldn’t even remember few minutes later, but he jumped to a conclusion and interrupted her, thinking he surely knows what she was going to ask. He told her then and there about wanting to have a family and how he wanted to put a ring on “her” finger. Hanna is still unsure if she didn’t want to hear it or if he said it vaguely enough to hide the fact that by “her” in that sentence, he meant his ex and it is “her” he will always want above all. He talked about being afraid of both Hannah’s feelings and his own, but never once identifying what kind of feelings he was having. He went on this rampage of thoughts and feelings, leaving Hannah lost deep in her thoughts. She broke up with Milo soon after that. The guilt and self-loathing were just to much for her.

She risked it all and put all the chaos raging through her head on paper. She wrote about not being able to have children, about wanting to be a mother her entire life, about the mess of pain and suffering miscarriages have left behind. She wrote about who she loved in her life and why. She wrote about her health issues that made her reconsider everything about her present and future. She poured her heart and soul on paper. Maybe it was all too much, too soon for Dean. His response was to ignore and avoid her and afterwards he would try to justify his behavior and make excuses about being in a bad mood, asking Hannah why she is “torturing” him. Oh, how could she ever forget how he told her that it had nothing to do with her, his state of mind, and how she should not bother herself with it. Oh, how bothered was she. Oh, how hurt was she.

That was the second time she decided to call it off and pleaded with Dean to leave her alone if he doesn’t know what he wants or how he feels. This time it was a lot more painful. His roots grew deeper into her heart and became stronger, so scars and cracks he left behind caused more pain. She can still feel it, coming back in flashbacks. She remembers he promised to respect her wishes. But once again, he showed only disrespect. He came back. Not because he knew what he felt, but because he wanted to play games with her heart. He told her how he wanted to fuck her so badly it hurt, how he couldn’t stop thinking about her and the best blowjob of his life. Hannah caved again. She new better, but she wanted him. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her mouth. The day she returned from her trip, he came over right away. He blew her mind all over again. And then he left. That became Deans modus operandi, more or less. Come over Saturday or Sunday morning, fuck for hour and a half and then leave. It was so hard for Hannah not to feel insignificant and unworthy. Then his friend died and again, he came to her because he knew she will be there when he needs her. She tried to comfort him, listened to him, supported him and showed him warmth and understanding. Even while he was telling her how he believes his ex is the only one that ever really understood him and knew him. And there Hannah was. Getting to know his emotional being, understanding him, supporting him and helping him, all the while being completely invisible to him. She was unclear on if he was unaware of this or if he just didn’t give a shit. Again, she allowed him shatter her heart.

They played that game of his for a while. Him coming over, fucking her in dirtiest ways possible for hour and a half, then leave. That’s when he added a new step to the routine, the one where he would ignore her for a couple of days after sex. She remembers that one Saturday when he broke the routine and came over in the evening. Hannah was so full of hope he would stay over. They fucked like crazy. First round just as dirty and a little perverted as both of them, but the second round was different. No toys, no perversions, no fantasies of games. Just the two of them and great sex. And then one more moment Hannah will never forget happened. The terror, the disgust and freak-out in Dean’s eyes the second she asked for one simple hug will haunt her forever. She was cold and he wouldn’t move so she could pull out the cover from underneath him. But he couldn’t force himself to hug her. He was half petting her like some pet and half pushing her away. Hannah never felt so worthless. So cheap. So humiliated. Oh, how could she ever forget. One of the deepest scars anyone has ever left on her soul and her soul has been scared by so many before him. He fell asleep and she was too terrified and too hurt to fall asleep next to him. She thought about waking him up and asking him to leave, but deep down she really wanted to wake up next to him to have some hot, steamy, morning sex. Then midnight came and fairy tale ended in disaster. He woke up and looked at her in a panic, freaking out about waking up next to her. He rushed home all the while mumbling about how this isn't about her but about him and his habits. Hannah believed non of it.

And she still can’t believe what he said when they talked about it. How he surely didn’t feel any of what she saw in his eyes when she asked for that hug. But Hannah knows what she saw. She looked into his eyes enough times to know. Once again, Hannah decided to go against herself and allow this game to continue. And the cycle continued. He comes over, they fuck, he leaves and ghosts her for days. Then one day he told her about this girl, a personal trainer, his friend’s wife set him up with and how nothing happened between them (for now, as he pointed out), how they were just texting and how he is unsure because she already has a child. Again, there Hannah was, all invisible and shit to Dean. And there he was, breaking her heart all over again. Talking to her about this almost perfect girl that comes nicely wrapped up in his life, a girl he sees as a potential part of his future and how he was taking his time getting to know her. All the while never bothering to the same with Hannah. She tried talking to him and told him how he hurt her. She told him all about how he makes her feel like just a meaningless side fuck to whom he sends a message or two, with just two or three words in a week. A place holder to kill the boredom until something better comes along. An hour and a half a week. Like she was an escort, on a tight schedule. That's all she was. Because he never shared any of himself with her. She still didn’t have his number, he never told her his last name, work place or even what neighborhood he lived in. They had dirty, dirty, sex, played out some perverted fantasies together, wrote each other things so dirty they would never repeat it to anybody else. And yet that had nothing to do with the shame and self-disgust Hannah felt in that moment. She blamed herself and him equally.

He kept repeating how she meant nothing to him, completely missing the point how her feelings had nothing to do with that other woman. She told him she needed to protect herself because he will break her heart in millions of little pieces, even though that was a lie because he broke her heart so many times already. She remembers reading his text that said “that’s what worries me, the fact that my heart is already in pieces”. Using his nickname for her, the one she hated and has never aloud anybody to call her by, he asked her “What is it that you want, baby?”. She wanted to scream TS’s lyrics at him: "Don't call me "baby"! Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me! You showed me colours you know I can't see with anyone else! Don't call me "baby"! Look at this idiotic fool that you made me! You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else and you know damn well, for you, I would ruin myself a million little times!" So she told him what she wants. Days went by without him even bothering to read it. So Hannah deleted herself from his life. Again. Her heart still aches when she remembers how much pain it brought her.

Once again, Dean came back. He made a new profile on a dating app to contact her. She was rude. In retrospect, she should’ve stayed rude and not given him a chance to get close to her. But once again she allowed herself to get sucked into his black hole. He talked about a broken phone, not being able to contact her, about how desperately he tried to find her on the app. And yet, not desperate enough to use her phone number, which he admitted he still had. He asked if she really believed he wouldn’t have contacted her on the phone if he hadn’t found her on the app. Yes, she really believed that because apparently it was easier to make a third profile and search between thousands of profiles then to send a simple text. Well, that whole story about profile just for her lasted ‘till next Friday. He updated it for the hunt. Hannah is sure that sick feeling in her guts was right. He went on a date over the weekend and it probably went well, he probably fucked that one as well. But she is also sure sex wasn’t even close to what they had because he came over again for a fuck on a Tuesday. They talked a lot. She forced him to be completely honest, to answer some questions. Like what are the feelings he mentioned having couple of times but never identifying them, or how does he see the two of them going forward. She was so scared to ask if he would ever take her for a coffee to meet his friends.

Hearing Deans answers was so fucking hard, but a little liberating as well. He was saying how it’s natural, of course, that he developed some feelings for her, but he can’t call it love because he doesn’t see them together in 20 years. He had excuses about how hugging and tenderness don’t come easily for him and it takes time for him to feel comfortable expressing them. Hannah almost laughed at that because it was funny how 4 months in still wasn’t enough for him to feel comfortable giving her one single hug or one single gesture of tenderness. She remembers how it hurt to hear him say he would never introduce her to his friends. She was telling him about how she is just trying to figure out her feelings because she was sure she had strong feelings for him, but she can’t be sure if it is pure lust or something deeper that she feel because she didn’t actually knew him.

After he left, Hannah was lost in thoughts for a long time. She let herself feel the pain of his words and then the relief because she finally knew where they stand. Conclusion was that she could keep having sex with him until she met someone with potential for a serious relationship. She was thinking how it would be better and easier to fuck him (at least they made a great team on that front and fucking him was mind-blowing) than meet random guys on the app and have half-good or bad sex that would leave her feeling even emptier. She wanted to believe she could just stop wanting more. She really wanted to believe it, more than anything. Dean was really happy when she told him her decision the next day. He came to see her the day after that. He stayed for a long time after sex, longer than planed, and he was late for lunch. They talked about everything. He opened up and told her so much about himself. She was happy. She thought about stalking him a bit over social media, but decided against it. She liked him opening up so much that everything else seemed “empty”. They talked almost every day over the next few weeks. He talked about how much he want to fuck and how much he miss her physically. But he hadn’t made an effort to come see her. And that hurt her. Again. She was left wondering how many more times is she going to allow him to hurt her? How many times is she going to allow him to break her heart? When will she finally force herself to stop allowing him to treat her like shit? Like she could never be enough. Like she means nothing. Like she was just a toy he will throw away any day now and never think about again.

Then suddenly, Hannah’s uncle died and she had a really hard time. She was in so much pain. She reached out and asked him to come over, to be there for her as she was for him every time he needed her. His words still resonate in her head: “Yeah, sorry, I don’t feel like it. I’m a bit down” and the vicious circle of him causing her even more pain continued. She tried to delete him again from her life, mind and heart. She tried and, again, failed miserably. She sat down and wrote him a poem:

“Craving”

My body craves you with every cell within

My hormones go wild from the thought of you

My body is no longer mine when you are near

My heart loses control and my brain shuts down

Your body craves my lips and my flesh

But your soul runs away from mine all the time

Your mind never wonders where I am

And your heart will never beat for me

So I know I have to run and never look back

Because my body might crave you

But my heart can never have you

And that breaks me every single time

My body craves you but so does my heart

Which you cracked thousands of times

I know and accept it now

You will always be just a craving unsatisfied.

******

A week or two went by and surprise, surprise, a text came. Unknown number and something along the line of: “Hey, I don’t think I need to tell you who this is, I am so sorry, I treated you horribly, I never meant to be such a scum, I know I’m piece of shit” and so on. So, she did it again, started talking to him. He asked to come over for coffee just to talk about things and of course she said yes with heart full of hope that things might work out better this time around. She will never be able to understand how she could’ve been so foolish. He talked about how he didn’t trust her because of all of her male friends and he doesn’t not believe in those kinds of friendships. In retrospect, he was right from male perspective. It turned out those friends they talked about did have hidden hopes of friendship growing into something more. But that shouldn’t have mattered. Hannah’s opinion and feelings were the ones that should have mattered. The fact that she didn’t want anything but friendship from those men should have mattered more. And although he never said it, Hannah is sure he didn’t trust her because of the app as well. She wondered if he remembers how she told him she deleted everyone on the app, unmatched every guy, deleted every like and hidden her account every time they would connect. She stopped flirting with everyone. Dean was the one and only reason she had an app. And Dean? Oh, he had accounts on two different apps to flirt and text God knows how many different girls, he flirts with and texts girls from real life, he dates and fucks others, and yet, he doesn’t trust her. Oh, the irony of his hypocrisy. He came over again next Saturday. Again, not much talking. It seamed as if his thoughts were miles away. Again, incredible sex. Not even 90 minutes this time. But to be fair, he did warn her he was short on time. She remembers felling good and relaxed, going to make herself a cup of coffee. She was somewhere between walking the earth and floating on a cloud. But that bubble burst soon enough as she was standing there, naked underneath the cardigan, with traces of him and his bodily fluids still all over her.

Dean was walking to his car, the one he adores more than human feelings, he opened the door and sat down. She kept expecting him to close the doors and leave, seeing how he was in a hurry. But he took something from the back seat, got out and went to the trunk. Ten minutes. That’s how long Hannah stood there observing him in disbelief. He changed his shirt. He probably had a date afterwards. A real date. In public. With someone acceptable. He had a cigarette. Sprayed deodorant all over himself. He was texting someone. Even now, she remembers every second of those ten minutes, every move he made, every smile after reading the text on his phone. It took her probably another half an hour to force herself to move. She stood there as if turned to stone, only tears falling down in waterfalls showing her body still exists in flash. Hannah really believes her heart shattered in those moments harder than ever before. She felt abandoned, unworthy, unimportant. She kept thinking she was made only of flaws, as if there is not one single positive thing about her that someone could love. She really thought she could never feel pain worse than that.

She tried to talk to him again. Told him how she feels. Asked him to have an honest conversation and answer her questions if he felt even a shred of respect for her. As always, he went out of his way to ignore her. But how could she ask him to show her respect while disrespecting herself by allowing him to come back again and again. She was done with him. She deleted his number, his messages, his profiles, the whole ritual. She had no material pictures of him to burn. She had nothing material from him. All she ever got from him was that little piece of hoodie rope. He tied it around his dick, as a surprise for Hannah, supposedly to give her even greater pleasure, but in all honesty that too was just for his own pleasure. So she cried her eyes out as she burned the only thing tying her to him. All he does is hurt her again and again. She still couldn’t believe someone could treat her that horribly, break her repeatedly and cause her so much pain intentionally. She could believe even less she could still care for someone how did all that. How could she love him? Him, who keeps breaking her heart, who keeps hurting her soul? She needed him to know that finally she heard him. She heard all of his words, spoken and hidden a like, each one cutting like a knife the very fabric that makes her her. So now she was packing it all in a box with a bow on top, to feel all the pain he has caused as she prepares to say goodbye.

Read about how Hannah's and Dean's story end in part II