Androphobia

Fear rising up. Hot, sticky, heavy. Murkiness crawling in the corners. Lock the doors. OCD settles in. Germophobia strikes. The smell is everywhere. Good thing there is disinfectant spray. Where is the rubbing alcohol? Scrub off anywhere he touched. Shed the clothes and shove them into the bottom of the hamper. More disinfectant spray. Cover self with clothes, sweaters, blankets, turn on the AC. Try not to cut. Swallow the vomit. Uncontrollable shudders wrack my spine. My throat is closed off, swollen, angry. Hate settles in. I feel it creeping painfully just under my skin. My ears itch, paranoia grips me. I feel unclean. My senses intensify. More disinfectant spray. More rubbing alcohol. I can't get clean enough. He used my bathroom - I'll pee in the kitchen garbage can instead - there isn't enough disinfectant spray. I can't hide. He didn't do anything - I just have these feelings gripping me. I hate it. I feel so disgusted. I can't escape. I have a tension headache. His essence is still in the air. There is no such thing as clean enough. I continue wringing and shaking my hands. I want to take pills, I want to cut, I want to drink, I want to disappear, I want to choke and die. I can't stop feeling defiled, dirtied, like an alien energy sunk its claws into my bones and like parasites it rapidly spreads through my body, eating at my soul. I can't trust. I feel disgusted. I just want to be safe. I can't do this. Why do I have to spit after I kiss? I still feel the weight of his arm over my shoulder. It's not his fault. He didn't hurt me. He didn't trample across my boundaries. But others have. And now I carry those memories. They eat my mind and rationality. I can't breathe. I want to escape.