BPOV

11:59

Why did a minute always take so fucking long when you're waiting for it? It had been 11.59 for far longer than a minute, I could have sworn.

Yes, clock, come on. You can do it. You can fucking do it. 11:59, 11:59… 0:00.

Boom. Bang. Bingo.

So that was it. Where were the explosions? Where was the celebratory march? Where was this profound feeling I was supposed to get after this so called "three-month benchmark"? Because ultimately, as soon as that clock hit midnight, it had officially been three months. It was fucking stupid of me to stay up this late just so I could watch the clock make it official, but I had been proved stupid in almost every single area of my life, so why not finally live up to this preconceived depiction of myself?

Jesus Christ… three months. Three fucking months of being a loser.

This was all Alice's fault. She had told me that three months would have been it; you know, the time where I should have been over everything, or at least moved onto something – or someone – else. It all seemed like a pile of bullshit to me.

I took mine and Jasper's break-up pretty hard, you could say. It wasn't really surprising; you know when you have your first proper relationship at the age of sixteen and the first guy you might feel a little something for turns out to be the only thing you care and think about? Yeah, that was Jasper for me. He was my everything, and now I wasn't sixteen anymore. I had just turned nineteen and it had been officially three months since Jasper had officially been my nothing. I was still fucking hurting – proving Alice completely and utterly wrong.

Alice had also always told me that I could have done a lot better than Jasper and that moving on from him shouldn't have been a problem. But she had to say that – she was my best friend. The guys at school weren't so bad when it came to attention, I suppose, but they weren't right. I knew just how pathetic I was being, but I couldn't fucking help it. They weren't him.

I had been in pretty much zombie mode since it had all happened. It was convenient, too, because we had just graduated which meant I wouldn't have to face school - or him - anymore. Alice had been so sweet to me, I guess, but I couldn't just let it go like she expected me to.

Now I had been a zombie for three months and not much had changed. I was no way hurting to the extent I was three months ago, but it wasn't like I was getting over it. I was more getting used to it – that ripping pain in my chest cutting me over and over again.

I didn't know what to do. All I knew was that I thought we were going to be together forever.

Until I caught him.

Jasper and I had been fucking since quite a young age – well, before it was legal, anyway. We liked to spice things up a lot – well, I did, and that warm start-of-summer's night was definitely no different. We had been getting on so well and we'd just finished school, so I decided to surprise him with an outfit I had purchased at the local mall. A teacher/school girl fantasy was one of my favourites so I was pretty excited when I found the outfit and bought it straightaway for Jas. I even had fishnet hold ups and a badge that said "'Good at Head' Girl" across the middle.

I had slipped on my long tan trench coat before driving over to Jasper's later on in the evening. Since he just lived with his older sister Rose who was ten years older than he was, there wasn't ever a problem with finding a place to fuck as she really didn't care. Although she never liked me too much, she was like the cool sister I never had and she made herself scarce when she knew that Jasper and I were up to something. Which was pretty much most of the time.

Rose answered the door that night rather than Jasper, which was slightly strange when I look back at it, but not too unnerving. I remembered the awkward smile she gave me and her apparent reluctance to let me into the house. However, being the fucking idiot that I am, I just ignored it and walked into the house anyway and straight up to Jasper's room, with complete nonchalance – even buttoning my coat as I walked, ready to live out the ultimate fantasy.

As soon as I heard him yelling that name "Tanya", I knew something was definitely wrong. I stopped just before his door and listened to the familiar "fuck" creak of his desk, back and forth… creak, creak, creak.

At first, I thought I was probably just imagining it. Maybe he was jerking off to some movie he rented with a chick named Tanya as the protagonist. And how fucking wrong I turned out to be.

I uneasily peeped through the gap in his door – Jasper never liked to close the door, he thought it was rude – and after I saw a strawberry blonde bent over the same desk that he had been doing me on for the past couple of years, in exactly the same school girl outfit, I fled the house in tears, a muttered apology from Rose, and I never looked back.

Except the desk scene replayed over in my head for the next three fucking months.

And that was it – here I was, three months later, wallowing in self-pity and wondering what to do with myself and contemplating being a depressive and reclusive zombie for another three months, perhaps years at best.

Sitting on my laptop in my bedroom all evening to look for something else to do to distract me from Jasper had become my favourite pastime very quickly. This evening was no different, except I might have retired to my bed by now. However, now that I barely seemed to have anything to look forward to the next day, there didn't seem much point in going to bed at an appropriate time anymore.

Still, my eyes were growing weary and after Alice had texted me saying "3 months, baby! Hope you're talking to a hot guy… A x", I just wanted to try and take my mind off it as soon as possible, and that, sometimes, sleep did.

I signed out of my IM and switched off my cell phone. Alice was my best friend and I did love her to pieces, but I didn't need her tonight reminding me how I was becoming perpetually single and reinforcing the fact that Jasper had cheated on me and now, I was alone.

Unaided, unaccompanied, single-handed… on my own. Yup, that was now the dictionary definition of myself. Isabella Swan: alone.

Despite the annoyance that Alice sometimes caused, I had to admit that she had a tiny, miniscule point. My father, Charlie, had talked to me about how he was worried about how I had become and after a sort of outer-body experience earlier on in the week, I did have a realisation that I needed to change some part of how I acted, at least to get Charlie and Alice off my back. I needed something to distract myself; to keep my mind off things and to prove to myself that I wasn't a complete weakling, even if I knew that deep down I had always been too dependent – it was a part of my personality. But perhaps at some point maybe I would need to change that.

Maybe? Fuck that, I needed to change everything about myself.

I noticed that despite logging off most things on my computer, I still had the internet browser up on my laptop's screen. On a sudden "three-month" whim, I decided to make use of the Google search bar that was at the top of my page and typed in "how to spice up your life". I wasn't sure what I had expected, except for maybe the lyrics to the Spice Girls' song or something about how to spice up your sex life. Out of interest and severe ennui, I quickly browsed some of the sex life pages in attempt to break out of the sheer tedium and despair that I now called my life.

Surprisingly, that was the one thing Jasper and I had been on the same page on; we always enjoyed each other sexually. At least, that's what I had thought. Anyway, we both knew what we liked.

But I never really told him about some of the dreams and fantasies I had. Not because I was embarrassed about what I found appealing or that it was completely wrong, it was just the dreams came to me off their own accord – as if someone was transmitting the images to my brain.

So I never knew whether to think of them as my fantasies, despite them mostly involving Jasper. I suppose they were a little weird, perhaps even eerie – but I still found that vivid and exciting. Maybe the intensity of the dreams had been influenced by my heightened emotions, but ever since the break up they had become more frequent and more powerful. Actually, sometimes they even kind of freaked me out. But that was the thing – I couldn't help it – they came to me while I was sleeping.

Vulnerability seemed to be the main theme of the dreams; sometimes including violence and aggression. While I was with Jasper, they started off as him taking me without my consent – roughly and belligerently. And then the even stranger thing was I would wake up feeling really turned on which was ridiculous because I would always consent to Jasper taking my body. How fucking degenerate?

The sexual content of what I was browsing on the net just brought up my thoughts about the dreams, and then of course, like every single fucking thought in my brain, they returned to Jasper. I shook my head to try and shake off the thoughts and returned my concentration to the "Spice up your sex life" blog that I had just opened.

It was all pretty standard: role play, toys, and positions – stuff I knew enough about already. I needed something more than this – something to wake me up, to daunt me, even. I needed something demoralizing, adrenaline – something to make me feel like I was still alive, after all.

Three months, Bella, and you're still sitting on your ass feeling sorry for yourself thinking about that cocksucker! Alice's voice sounded in my head and I mentally tried to swat it away, like a fly.

Suddenly, I saw something that made my heart stop and my psyche surge with curiosity. Well, well, well, I said to myself. What do we have here?

Tip Number 37

(Do not try this without being fully informed and all consenting adults)

Try out a BDSM relationship involving power play with dominance and submission. Maybe for a night, or even a long term relationship, many adults have this desire to feel more alive that has previously been suppressed which could be holding back your sex life. Sometimes, it needs awakening by the lifestyle of Masters and slaves. BDSM can vary between mild and extreme forms of pleasure and pain.

How can you tell if this is for you?

Ever wondered what it felt like to have total control? Do you dream about being completely dominated or mixing pain with pleasure? This is for people who seek more from their sex life and want to bring it to a whole new level. Whether you like being controlled and dominated or do the dominating, as most sex tips go, there is nothing wrong with trying.

Talk to other submissives and Masters already in the game and meet someone with similar interests on this website here.

Maybe it was the fatigue that seemed to be making me drunk, but I was far too intrigued with this tip number thirty-seven. I didn't really seem to know what the hell I was doing, but I clicked the link immediately to the website. Without delay, I was greeted with exactly what I was looking for.

Adrenaline.

The first page was just as daunting as I wanted it to be. It was entitled "Kink Community" and the flashing words underneath asked me if I wished to be dominated and humiliated. A grin appeared across my face and my heart pounded furiously as some photos appeared, with pictures f girls that looked just like me: long hair, small physique and dependent expressions. Excitement and anticipation welled up inside of my stomach as I clicked on a couple of profiles featured on the front page.

My stomach twisted slightly on instinct when I looked at most of the members' ages on the site. Most of them were in their late thirties of forties, I, on the other hand, happened to have turned eighteen last fall. Was it even legal that I was on this website? I felt like a clueless child. However, I looked on the bottom of the page and read the brief terms and conditions and noticed that yes, I was of consenting age and therefore was entitled to do whatever I wanted with my sexual desires.

Sexual desires… Was I wrong to be so excited about something that was clearly so wrong? I suppose it was part of my personality – I enjoyed pushing boundaries to provoke reactions, even in myself. I suppose I felt more welcome on the site than I should have done.

I looked at the photos of these girls in what seemed to be submission. For some unknown reason, I felt like I could be one of those girls: to be tied up for Jasper, for him to come back to me as he could do whatever he pleased with my body. I needed to feel wanted again. It seemed that domination was the ultimate fulfilment of this need. So it seemed that yes, I did want to be dominated, even though it kind of sickened me to admit it.

First you were a sullen loser sitting on your own and wondering where the hell you had gone wrong in life, and now you're about to become a kinky slut. Well done, Bella Swan, my subconscious chanted.

I ignored it. I was beyond the point of any sort of judgement now. Then, apprehensively, I clicked 'Register'.

Thud, thud, thud. My heart was ready to jump right out of my chest.

I filled out my details, being as truthful as possible without revealing too much about myself. It was the internet, after all. I put a photo on – a simple one of my face that Alice had taken of me this summer where I was smiling, but not too much. It could have been anyone, to be honest, so I wasn't too bothered. Adrenaline, Bella, I reminded myself. Feel again.

I entered a few personal things about myself, such as my height being five foot four and my previous sexual experiences. Obviously, I had to select the 'No previous power role relations'. I had guessed from reading other things on the site that I was supposed to be a 'Training sub'. Naturally, there was a lot more to this world than I had originally thought.

I yawned as I filled in the last couple of things like that I socially drank and smoked, wasn't into drugs, enjoyed reading had just come out of a long term relationship. The username that I chose for myself was the same as my email address, even – Isabella91. I had expected it to ask me if I liked flogging or being tied up, but there was nothing as drastic as that yet.

In a way, the site was welcoming me, even though I didn't want it to. It wasn't scaring me how I needed it to – instead it was excited me and felt more like entering my details on some sort of fucked-up Facebook instead. But crazily, I loved it.

After I had finished, I had grown beyond sleepy which was habitual for me. I knew that I had constant bags under my eyes, but I didn't care. I knew that my dreams – despite how mind-bogglingly pleasurable – would bring Jasper, and I still couldn't handle it yet.

I switched off my laptop after finishing m profile, not thinking too much about what I had just done. Was it tactless? Rational? Appropriate? No way. I wasn't sure about anything anymore, but all I knew was that the hole in my heart was still gaping open and very much apparent, so again, I didn't really care much about what I was doing anymore. It was something to occupy myself with. Feeling something again was the goal.

And I did need to feel something – anything other than this stupid hole that had been punched through my chest. I just didn't want to be so pathetic anymore – just sitting at home and doing absolutely nothing. In fact, it was a pretty mediocre attempt to get my adrenaline pumping – to sign up for that website. It was just the internet and I was still in the safety of my own home, sat almost passed out in front of my computer screen.

I closed my laptop and then settled into my bed, turning my iPod on the loudest setting, trying to drown out any thoughts that recurred around him. As a tear slipped shamefully out of my eye I settled into another one of my dreams, I mentally noted to myself that it would be the last tear that I cried for Jasper Hale and that tomorrow would be a brand new day, a brand new life, and a brand new me.