you don't know what fair is. unfortunately, neither do I.

Watching heterosexual porn, thinking about Pants as I watch a girl on top reach orgasm. I remember when I used to do that, riding him in his old apartment. That's when things were less complicated; when he would text me and ask what I was doing. Usually late late at night. And I would inevitably go riding to him.
Sometimes I'd get dressed up for him. He liked it. He ripped my fishnet shirt to pieces. He fumbled with my corset. Sometimes I'd straddle his face and make him ask for my pussy. Sometimes I'd tie him down. Sometimes I'd beat him.
Things change.
He went through a rough patch, and I made myself available. I saw him break down and it made me love him. My friend told me that I'm "kind but difficult" and that is true. Pants became something more to me than a fuck, and he let me under his skin a little. He let me inside. He asked me to stay. When I said I wouldn't be able to see him as much in the winter and he'd need to let me drive, he said, "ok."
But now it's winter and he's gone. He didn't let me take the wheel. I don't know what happened and he won't tell me.
Once I sobbed because he mocked my statement, "everyone goes away." But now he's done it too. I said, "I'm just waiting for you to leave," but I was hoping he wouldn't. What was that? Self-fulfilling prophecy?
I haven't cried in a few days. I guess I had this coming.
I wrote to him three days ago. If I don't hear from him by Wednesday, I'm writing him off.
Which part of "reply" did he not understand?