Strange Allure

I have a weakness... it's the fact that Time often plays tricks on me, pulling me in, leading me on, lulling me into a quiet repose, until I am fooled by my own tenderness. I believe truly deeply that something calm has finally enveloped me, and I should be able to breathe in unadultered air. I exist in a natural bubble of honest innocence, and it's then, in that moment of absolute vulnerability, when suddenly everything goes awry and Swoosh! I'm picked up again by the storm that blew in, from the distant, churning waters of the sea. I remember things I am supposed to forget. I feel things I am supposed to supress. I act in ways from which I am supposed abstain.

The difficulty lies in the awareness of it all. I sense when the winds approach; I feel the hairs raise along my arms; I can smell the iron, mold and salt in the air as it hangs in dead stillness all around me. The charge that flows along my skin and causes a surge in my pulse is unlike any other. It signals a threshold between action and non-action that threatens to change the very course of my life -- all dependent upon what I choose to do. What I choose to say, what jokes I choose to make, how I send a look across the room, or knowingly drop my view to the floor. It's here that I balance... and can fall to either direction.

During periods of calm, I "behave", don't break the rules, accept responsibility, manage the turbulence of life, and through it all, still remain true to myself and to my loved ones. I feel civilized, proper, and quiet. I don't tell lies, but I also choose not to speak when faced with a challenging situation. When given the choice to reveal a hidden aspect of me, or remain silent, I choose the latter, for the safety of it all. I am socially conservative.

It's when I'm in the midst of an explosive episode that I yearn to be in diametric opposition to where I stand in safety. Yes, I want to be loyal to my husband, and I still feel all the desire for responsibility and civility, but the choice is that much more difficult. I don't know the reasons behind my swings in personality; they just exist. I have a feeling that my entire life will constantly be challenged by these very aspects of who I am. If I can stay clear and present with the change as it is occurring, then perhaps at least I can live a full life of awareness, and at most, with compassion.

Currently, I can sense a storm approaching. The tides are acting out, unruly, and unpredictable. The sea is coming for me, and from the way I've been thinking all day, I'm not so sure I can continue gazing at the floor anymore.

Adultery for me...

is like having a drink, taking some drugs or engaging in a risky adrenaline-pumping sport. It's recreational. It's fun. The flirting is fun. The newness of it all is exhilarating. The sexual attraction is a great reminder that the girl I used to be is still the same as the woman I am now. Like most exciting recreational activities, there's an immediate *boost* that uplifts your spirits and just makes you feel good. Yes, that may very well be the adrenaline talking, but it exists in sports, in exercise, in anything that deals with the physical form. And, as with any of the aforementioned activities, extra-marital sex can toe the line of obsession and addiction. If pushed to the limit, all of that boosted energy can become a whirlwind of chaos, sap your spirit of any reserves you might have had and toss you into a pit of exhaustion. Widely known as The Crash, (aka the hangover) so too does adultery have its minor (and major) pitfalls.

The most dangerous pitfall of all is the emotional bond. In a comment on my previous post, Thomas Paine mentioned the danger of getting caught. I mulled on this for a while, and have decided that getting caught by my husband is not the immediate danger where I find my thrill. Simply because I seriously don't want or need him to ever find out, and I don't really think he wants to know either. I know that he has his suspicions, and it comes out in his speech. At the same time, we've talked about our limits briefly, and I know that he simply doesn't want to know. I think so long as my behavior changes only on normal, regular terms, that is -- our daily relationship maintains its stability -- and our emotional state of affairs is in good standing, he really has no need to question my commitment to our marriage. I also feel the same way, which is why the danger that provokes a prolonged adrenaline rush is that which comes with the possibility of falling in love with someone other than my H.

Which brings me to BeautyEyes. He has been the only man I have ever come close to having these sorts of feelings for. I think because of our history together, there was an immediate bond aside from the sexual attraction. That intimacy that we experienced exists in a realm of its own -- the friendship intimacy that's laced with sexual attraction that seems to cross lines, however arbitrary they may be, and in doing so creates this fuzzy space that's amorphic, mutable and at times, downright scary.

After having processed this odd connection I have with BeautyEyes, and having slept with another co-worker, I couldn't help but feel somewhat... dirty. And it's not a dirty feeling like "oh my, I've slept with too many men, so I'm a slut" kind of dirty, but it's more of a muddled feeling as though I didn't know who I was anymore. The kind of dirty that sticks to your skin and doesn't wash off in the shower. That feeling when you first wake up with morning stickiness clinging in the air, oppressive humidity that consumes all the space, pushing out any room for circulation of a fresh breath. That kind of dirty.

So my solution lately has been to avoid the situation entirely. That means avoiding all people aside from my H. It's been working temporarily, but I know that it's not a permanent solution. I'm just not callous enough to fuck and run. I know I have to talk to the last guy I slept with and process what happened between us. Why did I say it would surely happen again? Why didn't I just leave? This man, my friend, an ex-coworker, was a person I spent a lot of time with. We were close. We had a real relationship at work. That night that we hung out, I said to him in jest "it's not like I'm going to sleep with you or anything" (perhaps my fatal mistake). And after we had sex later on that evening, he opened up to me even more than before. That scared me. He reminded me of me. I didn't want him to get too close. Now I realize he was my rebound from BeautyEyes. I just wanted to fuck. I wanted to be reassured that I could participate in this recreational activity, and just have fun, with seriously NSA (no strings attached). And when he hit me with that whammy of emotion, caused in the wake of really great sex with someone you've known and been in close proximity for almost a year who you've barely even touched -- well, it was too much for me. And so my Anonyma self crawled back into her hole in order that my everyday person could scrub down her dirty little emotional welfare to at least a resuscitated state.

And here is where I am today. Freshly showered. I have a few new perspectives, and maybe they'll sneak out here soon enough. All in all, I feel good.

Food for thought: when you have a sex dream with someone totally unexpected, it often has nothing to do with sexual attraction, though sometimes it might. Usually however, it reveals a newly formed intimacy with that particular person. Twice now I've had this sort of sex dream with my immediate supervisor (two different men). In both instances I knew exactly what my subconscious was getting at. The first time, my dream was relatively innocent. We only kissed, but there was an energy there that struck me enough to remember it during my waking hours. And sure enough, my boss and I had developed a friendly rapport just about the same time. This time, today I had a dream about my new boss -- The Brit. The problem is, I do find him rather sexy, and I was attracted to him from day one. Now I have a sex dream about him and it's clear that we're getting closer at work. To boot, it was a damned good sex dream where he basically forced his face onto the crotch of my jeans, surprising me with the most incredible through-the-pants face fuck I've ever experienced in a dream. The thing that's quite okay with this unrequited sexual attraction is that I know for a fact that he's nowhere near dangerous for me. He's devoted to his wife and kids, lives out of state and has zero opportunity to get me into any kinds of trouble. Plus, I respect him, on multiple fronts which means I would never endanger that situation for him. I think I've got a check on this one.

Scrubs

-- the tv show that I've begun watching. The main character, JD, (played by Zach Braff) keeps reminding me of BeautyEyes. I'm totally addicted to the show these days, and I'm now quite enamored with this guy, if only because he so reminds me of BeautyEyes. It's not necessarily that they look alike, (though in a way, they really do -- just imagine brown skin and grey eyes, though just as striking) but there's some hint of personality similarity, maybe it's the nerdiness? which I absolutely adore, by the way. This might very well be the first time that I've actually had a celebrity crush... the first time I've ever had any genuine curiosity about getting to know an actor, on a personal level. I'm finding it rather strange, really. I've felt that way about authors, but I think the nature of acting and celebritizing forces automatic walls between us and them, versus a pulling force of mental attraction that comes along with writers.

Anyway, I should probably stop watching the show because it's just pulling me down deeper into my depraved cyclone of obsession. I'm really trying to stop thinking about BeautyEyes because I know our situation is absolutely impossible, and I most likely will never get another weekend with him ever. After I sent him a drunken email, I realized how close to the edge I am with this guy, and the teetering is doing no good whatsoever.

On another front completely: I started a new job today and I'm surrounded for the first time by men who are happily involved with their wives/fiancees. No divorced sense of alienation, no sex-hungry single boys, just men who are (at least outwardly) satisfied with their women. THAT is strange in my profession. How ironic then, that one of these men I find absolutely stunning. Once again, the eyes! This guy brings back memories for me of my girlhood fantasies of who I would want to marry. Dark brown hair, chiseled features, BRIGHT blue eyes, and he's a brit to boot! Witty, and sarcastic as hell with a bite on the end of every statement. Dare I say, hot? I don't work with him directly, so I can't really stare at him for long periods of time given we don't hold very long conversations. But when I can steal the time when he's not looking, I'm amazed at how fucking handsome he is. Nothing like a workplace crush to make the hours go by pleasantly...