Please feel free to anonymously submit your vote regarding tonight’s post.
Please feel free to anonymously submit your vote regarding tonight’s post.
Wait – the story started here with…
and then it continued on to …
Part Three: Anal and More Anal
and then here to …
I watched her get into the shuttle. I felt like an asshole – so disappointed in myself. I felt guilt. Not for the stuff we did sexually; if anything we used each other for it. What I did was worse; I talked her into flying to another state to cheat on her boyfriend – while actually I was just drunk and had no interest in seeing her. She wasn’t stupid – she knew what was going on; She was kind enough to let me off the hook – could have made me pretend all weekend.
I drank another margarita while I thought about how I needed to moderate my drinking. At least she was gone already, so quickly. I was guilty but free. The sex was pretty sexy – so it wasn’t all for nothing. She did call out another guy’s name – thankfully – was the only excuse I could keep in mind to feel less guilty.
I’m a good guy – but my hormones and substance indulgences early in college compelled me to make some less than empathetic decisions. Talking Sheryl into visiting while I was drunk, when I hardly liked to be around her sober, felt like a new kind of bad drunken decision – one I couldn’t detach from – blame it on the alcohol.
I knew why I thought to call Sheryl – why I liked her when I was drunk – probably same reasons why anybody would. I knew she was a nice person, but her weakness turned me off. I found her inauthentic for trying so hard; for trying to be a blond bombshell despite having a face that would forever deny her such a distinction.
At the time – I thought I was not attracted to Sheryl because i saw through her – had her figured out; I had no idea that in Sheryl’s weakness and efforts to be something more than she was – I was seeing in replica – the folly in my own behavior – vulnerability of my own story.
Although it would be a while before I’d discover it – I was no better – was pretending things too. I came from not far above average money – had a bit of my own – but was trying to fit in with many around me who were wealthy enough to want to hide it. Also, I was not far above average smart – but was trying to pass for brilliant like some others around me genuinely were.
Sheryl and I both had yet to grow into ourselves and drop the pretense. Greater depth, self-awareness and humility continued to evade me for at least another year and my first several acid trips – and until the money ran out.
Being too broke to afford a toy watch, or matchbox car , is fast way to learn that wealth isn’t a watch or a car. And, confidence – or talent – even “brilliance” – toxic concepts. Talent and confidence are lazy foreman, stuffing their faces, impatiently waiting for the job to get done. Hopefully Sheryl learned that her real beauty was far more than a pretty face. One way or the other, as people grow up, most learn that greatness and strengths can’t be faked: we can fool ourselves; it’s unlikely we’ll fool others about who we’re fooling.
Sheryl was already benefiting from her insecurities: she was humble and giving; she kept her body in perfect shape and dressed classy and sexy. For all my naivete, i did appreciate her kindness – and when push came to shove, she never failed to turn me on and get me horny.
Thinking back – I hate to think what she must have thought about me – and how bad I probably hurt her feelings. I wish I could go back to that moment and kick my own ass.
Okay – damn, I’m sorry . I was supposed to be telling a hot story here. Don’t worry – we’ve only gotten up to 2pm on Saturday; there’s a lot more to tell, trust me – I didn’t chose that particular weekend randomly.
Stay tuned for the next part – where I’ll resume the telling of the weekend in life as a college sophomore.
What you might have thought to be the main act of this show – the climax – tip of the arch even, was just foothills before an Everest of what happened next; coming in Sheryl’s ass was not even the previews before the movie – more like the lame slide show of treats and refreshments that those who arrive too early must suffer though.
The next part of this story will kill the lights and fire up the projector.
And now you may read on to…
A lot has been written about how men cheat for the sex and affairs for women tend to be more emotional. As often, people talk about how cheating is a replacement for something that a person is not getting from their marriage or spouse. How often is it more, and less than that? Do we ever cheat as a settlement for something unrelated to our marriage or significant other, something greater we wanted?
How great can the greatest sex be? The greatest I can imagine, is only a matter of moments, an hour, a day, a memory. What is that compared to the most significant aspects of a life? Life long friendships, parents, children, success, fame, meaning, a purpose, adoration, safety, hope, admiration, or reconciliation, and other things, may be bigger, last longer – and in whatever way, be more significant to our lifetimes, than a fuck or affair.
This is not to say that sexual desire and emotional care are not significant needs. If a good fuck or some romance is truly all that’s needed, and some kind of affair can answer a painful deficiency of such things- cure long term anxiety, then great – we’ve likely found our solution. If we’re going to go that far and take such risks – throw down and lay down the chips, let’s be raw freaking honest about why were doing it, and make sure that infidelity is merely a supplement to what we’re missing in our relationship, and not a substitute for something else more profound; something, that with our cheating, we’re choosing to give up on. A settlement. A consolation. A forfeiture
Is it brave to venture outside the relationship if it is in lieu of something we truly want – that’s actually the cause of the void? Granted, there are things that have no recourse. If we lose a child, no amount of bravery or honesty with self is going to fill that void, hopefully there’s enough sex and medication to get us through such devastation.
But, shouldn’t the question be asked? If we’re ready to put our most significant relationship on the line – do something so bold, we might as well do just that – and make sure that having an affair isn’t a diversion to something more fundamental we need – something we don’t think we can obtain or manage -something that takes even more audacity to confront.
If it’s romance and fucking we’re truly needing, then I say we make damn sure what we go after is good; However, no matter how good it is, if we’re doing it as a cop out, do we not fail ourselves and risk harming others for not?
Cheating 8: Is it Really Sex or affection we Want or is Cheating a Settlement?
1. If it feels good to do – somebody does it.
2. If they’ve been doing it and break a promise not to do it again – they’ll never stop.
3. If they accuse you of doing it, and you’ve never done it, they’re the ones doing it.
4. If you have to lie about it, you probably shouldn’t be doing it.
5. If both of you do it – you’ll do it more often.
6. The more eager you are for them to be doing it, the less they’ll want to.
7. If you resist doing it -they’ll want you to do it even more.
8. If you resist too much, they’ll find another to do it, or do it themselves.
9. If you each do it and never talk about it, then you both know the other is doing it.
10. If they say they didn’t do it, and you didn’t ask if they did, they’re doing it.
11. If a lot are doing it, and nobody’s talking about it -it’s probably really F??k?ng good.
12. If they tell you it’s really good, but they’re not doing it – probably really F??k?ng bad.
13. If doing it is bad for you, it probably feels good to do.
14. If your mother wants you to do it, how good can it feel?
15. If your mother forbids you from doing it – she hasn’t done it.
16. If your mother suggests you don’t do it – she’s tried it.
17. If your mother pretends not to know you’re doing it – she still does it.
18. If you make them stop doing it, they’ll never let you do it.
19. If doing it worked once, it will work again
Life, moving so quickly,
Art seems to have won
This battle for being.
I slipped back in
While trying to engage
Pursuits more rewarding.
The creating owns me
Outside of the ecstasy
it pays off nothing.
The loneliness is crazy
its magnitude absurd
Had to be, maybe.
Fading and alone
I’m getting old
With no family.
Put my face in hands,
Wondering, is there
Still time for anything?