Love after dark is meaningless

Published on June 30th, 1926

Dear Princess,

Would you hurt yourself if you thought it would please the person you loved?

I'm craving love. I'm addicted to it and I've had a relapse: I met up with a man I told myself I shouldn't ever see again.

We happened upon each other purely by chance after I'd just concluded a disappointing date with a beautiful girl, and I felt that I didn't want to end the night on such a boring note.

It'd been a few months since he and I seen each other last, and he was unforgivably sweet. We'd parted on difficult terms. Now though, he kissed my cheek three times and told me he missed me. He asked if I would hate him if he requested a hug. I wanted to be held. So very badly. So I let him.

He invited me to his apartments for a drink, and I accepted. I knew I shouldn't have, but all the feelings of heartbreak and grief had been processed and discarded by this point. I had full awareness of what it would lead to, but I wasn't thinking of that, I just knew that the coincidence of our meeting wouldn't happen again and I wasn't ready to say goodbye to this person forever.

He poured me a glass and called me attractive. He spoke of my hips and my waist and his nervousness on seeing me, that I was sexy and he wanted me. He held me tightly and ran his hands down my back. He told me to tell him if he put his hands anywhere I didn't want them. He asked if he could kiss me.

It was good. It was always good. Afterwards he asked if I smoked, I told him no; that I got addicted to the things I liked too easily so I knew not to start. He said that he'd only asked because he shared a cigarette with the last girl he'd been with, and liked the experience. I had brief delusions of picking up smoking. To scour the memory of that faceless woman from his mind and replace it with me. What madness.

I wanted to feel something. I wanted to feel anything. I hate feeling like an empty vessel. There should be meaning intrinsic to me, as I believe there is in all humans, but I can't seem to actualise it.

I love people. I am terrified of people. I don't trust anyone, and I need someone to give me meaning by proximity. Connections. Bonds intangible and powerful like electron clouds. He invited me to drink again next week, with a female acquaintance of his. I felt no particular proclivity to do so, other than to stave away boredom. I would self immolate if it meant burning away this feeling of meaningless.

I will never let you feel as empty as I do. Please wake up.

Love, Makona