My fingers ached to search for the right keys, but all they could manage were small twitches in response to faint brain signals. My mind was attempting to formulate a response, but every time I tried to start a sentence, I drew up a blank page. I was simply too engrossed in reading his words. He was talking about why he wouldn’t go all the way with just any girl. Because, you see, he’s the kind of guy who wants to save it for a girl he loves. When you care about a girl, it makes sex feel that much better, because it’s not just sex anymore. It’s making love, and it means so much more. And that moment you share afterwards, looking into each other’s eyes, exchanging thoughts without saying a word…you can’t have that moment with just anyone.

I can’t count how many moments I’ve had like that with the guy I loved. It hurt to remember him while I was talking to another boy. And it hurt to relive that memory, knowing how many failed attempts I’ve made at recreating it.

Could I ever find that moment again? Surely not with men I have no feelings for, and I’m positive that he realizes the same thing. I am not special to him, he is not special to me. He must realize that he cannot create that moment with me, nor I with him. You can’t have that moment with just anyone… but you can reenact its physical prelude with anyone. Almost anyone. And preferably, someone who does not require much effort to lure into bed.

So…that’s the kind of girl I am to him. Easy. Someone who will get down on her knees when you snap your fingers. Someone who will follow you to your room and turn the lights out for you. Someone who will let almost anyone into her bed. Someone who is undeserving of such a moment.

Eventually our conversation ended. Immediately, I prepared for the night. I was not physically or mentally spent, but I was emotionally numb. I felt as if the air around me was pressing me from every direction, like I had become some sort of low-pressure vessel. And like a body which contains no person, I crawled into the safety of my own bed, a  bed that was the location of so many special moments.

I thought of who I was before. Someone with a true passion, and a collectivist mindset. Someone who did not think of only herself. Someone who was deeply in love. Someone who deserved those moments. And then, the emptiness was gone. The emptiness, which was conceived as I dispelled the easy girl that dwelled within me, gave way to the presence of a new self. My old self…I’ve found you at last!

And so, I drifted into sleep, listening to the lullaby of my mind, screaming this chant over and over:
NO MORE DEMON GIRL
NO MORE DEMON GIRL
NO MORE DEMON GIRL…