Tonight Ethan was out with his friends again. The house is so quiet I can hear my own heartbeat. I tried to watch something to take my mind off things, but ended up scrolling through old photos of me smiling... before. I miss feeling like someone wanted me.

I know it’s pathetic, but sometimes I put on the lace teddy I bought months ago and just look in the mirror. I try to remember what it felt like to be touched gently, to have someone’s hands explore my body like they actually wanted to be there. To have a man’s cock inside me because he craved me, not because he was taking what he felt entitled to.

I ache in places I can’t even name. My pussy actually throbs sometimes from sheer neglect—not just for sex, but for contact that doesn’t hurt. To be filled slowly, to be kissed everywhere, to have someone whisper how beautiful I am while they make me come.

I’m so tired of being empty.