My walls are finally crumbling.

I didn't notice for a long time. I don't know how long they've been down.

I feel the progression, though.

A year ago I felt like I was sitting at the bottom of a tower with no windows and no roof, just watching the sky going by.

Then I was watching people, but the walls were still there. I could see people, but I couldn't identify with them. I observed, but I felt as empty and as hollow as the tower I'd built around myself.

And then, oh, a few months back, at a birthday party. I was laughing and going through the motions, and a man who I'd just met politely asked if he could pull my hair.

I suspect I keep my hair long, despite my repeated threats to cut it all off, because I like having it pulled.

Sounds silly, doesn't it? But it's akin to having one's back scratched.

So I said yes. And with a few fistfuls of hair, he lit the fire in my blood that had laid dormant for so long.

Due to politics, I never followed him up, but then I started to notice.

People were noticing me in my little tower.

Occasionally in the past month or so, someone would walk right through my walls, touch me, and say hello.

Sometimes they'd charge right through my walls, ignite my lust, and leave.

And it startled me at first.

It especially startled me when I started to notice my blood burning without outside influence.

To realize that I wanted to go on the hunt again, that I was ready to go on the hunt again.

Not necessarily for a relationship -- though I've had an offer of a relationship within the last month which I politely declined -- but for connections. I need to build those physical bridges again that I severed when I was with Paul, and then when he left me.

I happened to be walking by one of the very best sex shops in town today, so I popped in.

I was just browsing, but it was nice to see what was out there, the toys I could play with.

These walls, they're a-crumbling.

I feel more like me now than I have in the past year.

I feel ferocious. I feel hungry. I feel dangerous. I feel like hunting myself a fistful of hearts. I feel like driving men wild in a fury of lust.

I feel like being unobtainable.

I feel like entwining men in my scent, and then not letting them touch.

I feel devious.

I love it.

.

Rosie.

Before&After