I Can't Control Myself Mga Nobela at Kwento

He looks like he’s losing that fight. When it seems like he is about to pull away from me, I reach for the collar of his shirt without thinking. My hand trembles. He doesn’t stop me. That scares me more than if he had. Slowly, clumsily, I push myself onto my knees. They shake beneath me. Every inch of my skin burns. I am not in control. I am not in control. The words repeat in my mind, but they don’t translate into action. I'm not in control of myself but I don't think I care.

"Never give up, Lade. What are you most afraid of?" The question seemed simple but it had a lot to it. "Myself," I voiced after much thought. "Why?" "Because I don't believe I have control over certain things that I do and they will always have consequences," I said answering him honestly without skipping any details. "Well then see that red dot as that part of you that stops you from closure. Take back your control from it!" he hankered and I allowed the words to sink in. He was totally right. I needed to not be a slave to my inner self anymore. I was my own person and nothing could control me.

“Or almost? I do not want that image in my head.” “You owe me.” I said again. “You could ask for literally any other thing.” “I am asking for this.” “Sorry for the repetition but again, why can’t you not just get one of your own witches to—” “Because I am admitting that I do not have control.” The words came out harder than I intended. “And I know witches. If there is something that spreads faster than their magic it is gossip. I have to be in control. Always. And I cannot allow anyone to know that I am not.”

she asked. He chuckled. "This has nothing to do with you gals directly, it's all about me," he tried to explain. "I'm trying to teach myself some self control is all. I have some pretty strange urges from time to time, and there are some things that I get an impulse to do... that I... shouldn't."

We would have never stopped kissing if it hadn't been for my phone beeping. Where is my self control? Where is my shame? I am losing my head and act without thinking when it comes to Aiden. I hate myself for it. "Well, that was a moment of w… weakness," I stutter. "So, you are saying you are not weak now?" Aiden probes. I nod. "Yes, I've got a grip on myself,” I answer. Aiden leans closer to my desk, resting on it. He folds his arms over his chest, staring down at me.

I have thosands of people at my beck and call. How the hell can I feel this...all encompassing, black hole in the middle of my fucking gut helplessness? It's amusing honestly. And I thought I could will the feeling away. But I can't. I can't make it disappear. There's something terribly wrong with me, I've noticed. And...I don't know what to do. So I cut my skin. It's not a big deal. I'm not gonna die from it. But it's just another cycle I'm stuck in now. Sometimes I do it to feel in control.

I wasn't ready, I know I'm not and I'm still trying for her sake. "What? Is it something I did?" She sat up and reached for my hand but I pulled it away, unable to handle her touching me anymore. "Not it's … I'm just not ready." I sighed, pacing my floor in self anger. She scoffed a little which brought me attention to her. "I'm trying to be considerate and understanding but it's really hard, Azrael. I think this is the least you could do." There it is, manipulation. The very thing she uses when she can't have her way.

“Guidance requires honesty and effort on your part. Not just words that stir up trouble. What exactly brings you back today.” I leaned forward a little, letting him see the way my tits pressed against the thin dress. “The urges keep getting worse. Last night I fingered myself thinking about someone grabbing me hard, pinning me down and telling me exactly what to do. I came twice but it still wasn’t enough. I feel out of control, Father. Like my body wants things that are completely fucked up.” His jaw tightened but his voice stayed calm and firm. “Self-control is the path, Scarlet. These desires are tests. You must pray, set boundaries, and avoid situations that feed them. Tell me, do you to

Please, Maxwell," I said calmly. I felt like a psychopath who was being overly dramatic. I felt as if I were acting irrationally, but I couldn't seem to help myself. I knew that I was letting my emotions get the better of me, but I couldn't seem to think clearly or control my behavior. It was as if my emotions were running the show, and my rationality was taking a back seat. I was aware of this fact, but I couldn't seem to do anything about it. I felt trapped in my own emotions, unable to break free.

"Are you crazy? What were you thinking?" I looked away, guilt gnawing at my insides. "I wasn’t thinking. That’s the problem." He let out a harsh breath, pacing the room like he needed to burn off the anger. "You can’t afford to lose control like that, Zach. Not now. Not with everything going on." "I know," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "But it’s like... it just took over. One second I was fine, and the next—" I clenched my fists. "I couldn't breathe. I couldn’t even see straight."