I’m sitting here, staring at the mirror, and I can’t help but think about how my ex would react if he saw this picture. I know he still thinks about me, especially when he’s alone. I can almost hear him whispering my name, imagining me in this very spot, my body on display, my thoughts drifting to him. I wonder if he’s touching himself right now, if he’s imagining me like this, my body ready for him. I never told him, but I think about him too, especially when I’m alone, when I’m fingering myself, when I’m imagining his hands on me, his mouth on me. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it. I’m his, even if he doesn’t know it. I’m his, and I always will be.