Morning Ritual

I wake with that empty longing pulling at my soul. I reach out for comfort only to realize that there is no one. I slide my hands down slowly, seeking to soothe myself. My hands glide down to the warmth. Slowly my fingers become damp and what is soft becomes hard. I rock myself towards the gentle release of oblivion. My mind fills with images, it is suddenly his hands on my body, I can feel his mouth upon mine. I hear his voice whispering in my ear. A gentle moan slips past my lips. I reach out for this phantom lover and softly whisper his name, as if some primal part of me still belongs to him. My body shakes with release, and suddenly I am bitterly ashamed. Why do I still long so deeply for someone that has cut me with his withdrawal from my life?