I'm seriously fucked-up. I was standing in my kitchen today popping popcorn while I poured myself a rum and coke. I put that Captain Morgan Spiced Rum bottle right under my nose and sniffed, and I could have swooned. It smelt like smooth, full heaven. I hardly ever drink. It occurred to me right then, and I even said it out loud... "The only thing keeping me from being addicted to cocaine is that I've never had any."
I thought about that while I walked back into the living room with my popcorn to finish my movie. I really think it's right. I am screwed-up in the head, and only the Grace of God comes between me and being dead every day.
There's this song I like that says something about being a preacher's daughter and not doing what "daddy taught her." I do everything my Daddy taught me, everything except deal drugs and beat my wives. If I drank often enough, I'd become and alcoholic. If I did try cocaine or heroine, I'd probably be hooked. I've cheated so much and lied so much about it that I can't stop lying. Even while I'm doing it, I think to myself that I want to STOP, and I can't even stop because I'm so mired down in it all that I couldn't climb back up, no matter how much I want to.
I'm spontaneous to the extreme, and that makes it all worse. I know where to go to get what I want, but if I can't get it there, I keep going. I keep pushing and asking and looking until I find someone who will give it to me. I might be looking for the kind of satisfaction that doesn't even satisfy ME; it just makes me feel better to get all of that energy out of my system and pump it into somebody else.
It's funny because growing up, the one thing I said I would NEVER do was be like my Daddy. Then when I grew up, I found out I was nearly as crazy as he was.
You know what I did last week? I got back home with my husband. He'd been in the hospital sick, and the very next day, I found some excuse to run across town and pick up my... what is he? My "boyfriend?" My married friend I've hung out with and "cheated on" (yeah, cheating on top of cheating) for two years now. We went to this place I like with flowers and fish, and we walked down these nature trails. I showed him everything I love above there, kissed him under the gazebo, bent over between some hedges and let him push up my dress and lick my asshole until I squirmed, nearly screamed and felt like my legs were going to buckle underneath me.
Then we went to a hotel, and, even though I'd told him, "No sex," I knew better, and after he made me come twice with his mouth, I mounted him, grinned, and stuffed his cock up into my pussy. I hadn't had anything in there in nearly a month, and it was tight and wet. He slid in so easily, but it actually hurt, he stretched me so wide and pushed in so deep.
Friday I went into town again, and he met me after he got off work. Five minutes at the library. We just talked and he made faces at me, and I giggled and guffawed. He makes me feel alive, and I feel like I need the escape lately. He's my only escape anymore, but I still talk to other people. Last night, after telling him in a text that I wouldn't look for anybody else while he was sleeping, I let a guy from somewhere up north call me on the phone and talk to me for an hour. It wasn't about sex at all really, so maybe I am getting better. Maybe I'm settling down to two men instead of five, but why can't it be one man, the one I'm married to?
I want it to be. Honestly, I do. That's where me being crazy comes into the picture. I'm sane enough to keep myself straight for a month or two. Usually two months, and then I run back to... somebody to make me feel right again. Lately, for two years except for a really screwed up time last summer, I've run to this same man, but he's married, I'm married, and it's not like we're planning to change that.
So we're just stuck in this confused jumble where we're crazy in love, he's jealous of any other guy I even talk to, when things get too scant at home, we meet up somewhere, and he fills me up and makes my pussy feel alright again. I feel like I'm going to be caught in this cycle for the rest of my life.
How fucked-up is that?