One of the main tenets of conquering addiction is admitting that you are powerless over it. Submission offers the promise of relief from the suffering.
Except when it comes to Mr. McHotstuff.
I’m down with submitting but more along the lines of scratching this miserable itch than in hopes of getting him out of my system. Everywhere else I look, there’s a willing man smiling back at me…. all except the one I want so badly.
So I’ve given up. I’m not even trying to hate him anymore. It’s futile to try to ignore how beautiful he is. Something shifts when you don’t fight it anymore and I’m at least sleeping again. I’m searching for the silver lining but honestly I just want to sit down and cry.
I wish I could unknow this. I wish I could wash this need off. I catch myself wishing on flower petals and stars, sending my biggest wish up for help.
Because most of all, I wish he were mine.
I’ve distanced myself from my friends and haven’t talked to my family in a while. I’m trying to put myself back together again but it seems that I left a few pieces in his pockets.
I make a point to look on the bright side and this has taught me a lot about myself. I’m learning to be kinder to the parts of me I don’t like, and this incredible man has taught me to speak up a little and say the hard things out loud, right to his pretty face. Instead of crying about it and resenting him, I look him deadass in the eyes and say exactly what I want.
J- I love you, but stop being so pretty. You’re hurting me.
He blushes…. and I’m stuck in wet panties again. Good Lord.
I’m admitting that I’m powerless over this wretched situation and breathing through the frustration of it all, but my God… somebody help a girl out.
I’m ready to bribe his friends to help me, some of whom are reading this. You know who you are. Name your price. 🙂
I’ve sufficiently ghosted every last Tinderboy and hung up my heels. I’m not wasting anyone’s time until I’m coming from an available point of view, and I don’t know a time I was less available. I’m not about to spread my suffering around, so I’m getting the garden weeded and some booties knit, instead.
Dirt and yarn, y’all. There’s magic in both that can cure what ails you.