I think that's the thing about love addiction. It's those weird chemicals that are released at the beginning. We can't get those back in a long term deeply felt relationship. Yet, I think I had that with husband right when I found out about his SA. I was angry, rejected, depressed, uncomfortable. And all I wanted to do was have sex with him. I was turned on constantly. Fake love. Then, as he got stronger in his program and in his recovery, it began to fade. Then Y&S came along. And I redirected all that libidinal energy toward him and the fantasy of him. Fake love. And now, I am hungover from it. And waiting to feel better. And my love for husband feels far away. But not because it is, but because I'm comparing fake love to real love. For husband I have real love. For Y&S I had fake love. And, it was all in my
Showing posts with label love addiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love addiction. Show all posts
Monday, August 23, 2010
Real Love Vs. Fake Love
Real love is deep, lasting, and unpainful. Fake love is a quick flash in the pain that feels like being drunk. Then you have a hangover. Then it's over. The problem with real love vs. fake love is that fake love is so intense and uncomfortable, that next to real love, it becomes confusing. And real love doesn't feel like real love anymore because it doesn't have that edge. My cat is standing next to me purring right now. I can't seem to get out of bed today and it's approaching noon. Crap. It just turned noon. Time to put on my new running shoes and go for a run.
I think that's the thing about love addiction. It's those weird chemicals that are released at the beginning. We can't get those back in a long term deeply felt relationship. Yet, I think I had that with husband right when I found out about his SA. I was angry, rejected, depressed, uncomfortable. And all I wanted to do was have sex with him. I was turned on constantly. Fake love. Then, as he got stronger in his program and in his recovery, it began to fade. Then Y&S came along. And I redirected all that libidinal energy toward him and the fantasy of him. Fake love. And now, I am hungover from it. And waiting to feel better. And my love for husband feels far away. But not because it is, but because I'm comparing fake love to real love. For husband I have real love. For Y&S I had fake love. And, it was all in myscrewed up little head beautiful, complex and sensitive mind. Comparing the two is like comparing the high you get from looking at a beautiful sunset on the beach to staying up all night doing lines of coke and drinking tequila. One is beautiful, healthy, and long lasting. The other is dangerous, depressing, and intense. But if you really are craving a high, you're going to opt for the latter. All you can do after that night is recover.
I think that's the thing about love addiction. It's those weird chemicals that are released at the beginning. We can't get those back in a long term deeply felt relationship. Yet, I think I had that with husband right when I found out about his SA. I was angry, rejected, depressed, uncomfortable. And all I wanted to do was have sex with him. I was turned on constantly. Fake love. Then, as he got stronger in his program and in his recovery, it began to fade. Then Y&S came along. And I redirected all that libidinal energy toward him and the fantasy of him. Fake love. And now, I am hungover from it. And waiting to feel better. And my love for husband feels far away. But not because it is, but because I'm comparing fake love to real love. For husband I have real love. For Y&S I had fake love. And, it was all in my
Oh Yeah
After I finished telling husband everything, and he couldn't quite process it all and wouldn't talk about his anger or sadness or anything, and could barely sit and listen to it... I asked him if he had any questions. He looked at me and said, "did you tell the army kid that he should go to AA?" so very sweet. He then asked me if we could go to the sports authority and buy new camping equipment. We did. I pointed out that compulsive shopping probably wasn't the way to process. He said he thought it was a good way. So, $400 and a new tent later, we're going camping next weekend. Barf. I hate camping. But. Oh well. It'll be good.
I have been thinking though, of course I didn't tell Y&S that he should go to AA. And my ex, T*****, who definitely should have been in a 12 step program, I never told him either. And this is why-- men who are alcoholics and drug addicts are easy to control, easy to manipulate and incredibly predictable in their unpredictability. Like I still know that all these years later, (we broke up in early 2003 and haven't seen each other since then) that T***** is still in love with me. Or thinks he is. I always felt invested in my significant other's fuck uped ness because it kept them mine. Weird. I'm happy I married Husband. He might not be perfect, but he's great. And our relationship will survive.
I this dream last night that I was on a gambling trip in Vegas with Madonna, Paul Rudd, Roseanne, and some extras. Paul Rudd was in love with Madonna, and she was totally mean to him. So he took off and left, with only a note that said, "it's too painful with her here rejecting me." And he left. And I was counting my money and missing him deeply. And then I began weeping, thinking about how sad I was that he was gone, thinking about how much I missed him and how poorly I treated him because I was trying to impress Madonna, but how Madonna was just kind of a jerk. Then I woke up (late) this morning, all teary and sad. My cat was pawing at my face. I realized that this was my fear about my husband leaving me. I called him and told him that I loved him and I wanted us to stay together and I didn't want us to cheat on each other anymore. He said he wanted the same thing and he loved me too. And so it goes. I still find myself recovering from the insanity that was August 9 - August 21.
I talked to a psychic in June. I thought she was insane and wrong and a waste of money. But she told me that something significant was going to happen in August that shook things up. I asked her what. She said she didn't know, but I'd know when it happened. Yeah, I guess that this is it. This was significant.
I have been thinking though, of course I didn't tell Y&S that he should go to AA. And my ex, T*****, who definitely should have been in a 12 step program, I never told him either. And this is why-- men who are alcoholics and drug addicts are easy to control, easy to manipulate and incredibly predictable in their unpredictability. Like I still know that all these years later, (we broke up in early 2003 and haven't seen each other since then) that T***** is still in love with me. Or thinks he is. I always felt invested in my significant other's fuck uped ness because it kept them mine. Weird. I'm happy I married Husband. He might not be perfect, but he's great. And our relationship will survive.
I this dream last night that I was on a gambling trip in Vegas with Madonna, Paul Rudd, Roseanne, and some extras. Paul Rudd was in love with Madonna, and she was totally mean to him. So he took off and left, with only a note that said, "it's too painful with her here rejecting me." And he left. And I was counting my money and missing him deeply. And then I began weeping, thinking about how sad I was that he was gone, thinking about how much I missed him and how poorly I treated him because I was trying to impress Madonna, but how Madonna was just kind of a jerk. Then I woke up (late) this morning, all teary and sad. My cat was pawing at my face. I realized that this was my fear about my husband leaving me. I called him and told him that I loved him and I wanted us to stay together and I didn't want us to cheat on each other anymore. He said he wanted the same thing and he loved me too. And so it goes. I still find myself recovering from the insanity that was August 9 - August 21.
I talked to a psychic in June. I thought she was insane and wrong and a waste of money. But she told me that something significant was going to happen in August that shook things up. I asked her what. She said she didn't know, but I'd know when it happened. Yeah, I guess that this is it. This was significant.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
The Way We Were
Me and Husband spent our Saturday night eating pizza, drinking beer, and watching "The Way We Were" in bed with my while I sobbed shamelessly. He also spent his first 4 waking minutes watching the Sex & the City "the Way We Were" Carrie/Hubble/Big redux on YouTube this morning with nary a complaint. Now that's love. Husband wiped my tears and held me. We are all broken. But at least I have him. I wish my love for him would come back. I lost it in the last few weeks. Though I know it's real and it's there. I just can't seem to find it.
So, I went ahead and sent Y&S a text this morning. I know that he's finally gone from this coast. I think he left some time during the last 24 hours. He stopped communicating with me for the most part after his 25 missed calls on Thursday night. I assume he was embarrassed. Or he's just fucking sick of me chasing him. And so I sent him a goodbye text. I feel mostly relieved that he's gone. His presence around here made me fucking insane. Here was my super codependent text:
i hope that you had a good flight back and didn't meet any scary cougars on the plane. I was pretty humbled and surprised by the fact that you didn't change your mind about meeting up with me. But I respect that you wanted to stay away from what you might have thought was a messy situation. Good luck with your life. Be careful out there. I will keep you in my prayers. I know that you won't understand this, but I feel blessed to have met you. You helped me put my life and marriage into perspective and sort through some things that I needed to look at. I owe you one, so call if you ever need to talk. I'm a good listener. I know from experience that people who think too much and feel too much tend to drink too much. So, be gentle with yourself and be good to yourself. I had 25 missed calls from you the other night with no messages- it made me giddy. You are like crack, one small taste of you just caused me to figure out how to get more. With that, I am letting you go. Farewell sweet boy.
Afterwards, I sat down with husband and told him everything. EVERYTHING! Except for when Y&S said that he'd impregnate me and we'd be lovers forever, because that's the kind of thing husband doesn't need to know. But I told him the important stuff, all the fucked up feelings I felt. All the weird fake love feelings and desperation and how I kept calling Y&S and tried to get him to see me. I was crying hysterically. Husband could barely hear it. He kept trying to get up and get coffee or walk away. I asked him why he kept walking away. He said that he was having a lot of trouble hearing it. In the end he said that he could understand what happened. And that he understands getting lost in fantasy. And being in a fog. He said he's angry and sad. But he's having trouble processing it all. He says that he knows me and how involved I get in people in pain. And that he loves me. It was good. I think we're gonna make it.
So, I went ahead and sent Y&S a text this morning. I know that he's finally gone from this coast. I think he left some time during the last 24 hours. He stopped communicating with me for the most part after his 25 missed calls on Thursday night. I assume he was embarrassed. Or he's just fucking sick of me chasing him. And so I sent him a goodbye text. I feel mostly relieved that he's gone. His presence around here made me fucking insane. Here was my super codependent text:
i hope that you had a good flight back and didn't meet any scary cougars on the plane. I was pretty humbled and surprised by the fact that you didn't change your mind about meeting up with me. But I respect that you wanted to stay away from what you might have thought was a messy situation. Good luck with your life. Be careful out there. I will keep you in my prayers. I know that you won't understand this, but I feel blessed to have met you. You helped me put my life and marriage into perspective and sort through some things that I needed to look at. I owe you one, so call if you ever need to talk. I'm a good listener. I know from experience that people who think too much and feel too much tend to drink too much. So, be gentle with yourself and be good to yourself. I had 25 missed calls from you the other night with no messages- it made me giddy. You are like crack, one small taste of you just caused me to figure out how to get more. With that, I am letting you go. Farewell sweet boy.
Afterwards, I sat down with husband and told him everything. EVERYTHING! Except for when Y&S said that he'd impregnate me and we'd be lovers forever, because that's the kind of thing husband doesn't need to know. But I told him the important stuff, all the fucked up feelings I felt. All the weird fake love feelings and desperation and how I kept calling Y&S and tried to get him to see me. I was crying hysterically. Husband could barely hear it. He kept trying to get up and get coffee or walk away. I asked him why he kept walking away. He said that he was having a lot of trouble hearing it. In the end he said that he could understand what happened. And that he understands getting lost in fantasy. And being in a fog. He said he's angry and sad. But he's having trouble processing it all. He says that he knows me and how involved I get in people in pain. And that he loves me. It was good. I think we're gonna make it.
Dear Young & Strapping,
yes, I actually slept with my phone next to my bed, under a book where Husband didn't notice it. The way I have been for the past 13 days, since I get my texts and missed calls from you in the middle of the night when I'm sleeping, when you're drunk. I used to wake up to ex bf's texts and calls too. I know that you are back and I'm happy about that. I wish I'd gotten to see you mostly so I can fucking forget about you. Because in my head, you are larger than life. I see something about soldiers and I begin to think about you. I saw this and I became aroused. I mean, really, it shows how odd the obsession is. And you didn't even go to Iraq. Oh young soldier. You really helped me not be obsessed with my husband's sex addiction. Because now I'm obsessed with you. I think that I'm obsessed with being obsessed. It's either money, or pregnancy, or whatever. I hate it. I wish I weren't so attached to outcome and to my wants. I know that I'll never see you or hear from you again. Which again, is probably the best thing. But I fucked myself up in the head with you. I'm sorry for my long confusing texts that answered your, "we ate awesome food and did karaoke, got so hammered, i don't even know how we got home last night," and I answered you with wordy prose about compulsions, neil diamond and tequila on the rocks (in reference to neil diamond's 'Love on the Rocks') with lots of lime. In my courtship ritual with Husband, we sent long and beautiful emails back and forth to each other. We wrote silly stories that were long, winding, ridiculous and it created a language of our own. You are not Husband. But somehow, I acted as if you were. Holding up my end of the courtship ritual, as well as yours. Oh Sweet boy, you're smart, I can tell that for sure. But you're not what I want or what I need. I have become obsessed with a fantasy. I miss you. I wish you didn't stop texting me after Friday night. But now I need to return to my life. Find some balance with husband. Everything is so weird.
yes, I actually slept with my phone next to my bed, under a book where Husband didn't notice it. The way I have been for the past 13 days, since I get my texts and missed calls from you in the middle of the night when I'm sleeping, when you're drunk. I used to wake up to ex bf's texts and calls too. I know that you are back and I'm happy about that. I wish I'd gotten to see you mostly so I can fucking forget about you. Because in my head, you are larger than life. I see something about soldiers and I begin to think about you. I saw this and I became aroused. I mean, really, it shows how odd the obsession is. And you didn't even go to Iraq. Oh young soldier. You really helped me not be obsessed with my husband's sex addiction. Because now I'm obsessed with you. I think that I'm obsessed with being obsessed. It's either money, or pregnancy, or whatever. I hate it. I wish I weren't so attached to outcome and to my wants. I know that I'll never see you or hear from you again. Which again, is probably the best thing. But I fucked myself up in the head with you. I'm sorry for my long confusing texts that answered your, "we ate awesome food and did karaoke, got so hammered, i don't even know how we got home last night," and I answered you with wordy prose about compulsions, neil diamond and tequila on the rocks (in reference to neil diamond's 'Love on the Rocks') with lots of lime. In my courtship ritual with Husband, we sent long and beautiful emails back and forth to each other. We wrote silly stories that were long, winding, ridiculous and it created a language of our own. You are not Husband. But somehow, I acted as if you were. Holding up my end of the courtship ritual, as well as yours. Oh Sweet boy, you're smart, I can tell that for sure. But you're not what I want or what I need. I have become obsessed with a fantasy. I miss you. I wish you didn't stop texting me after Friday night. But now I need to return to my life. Find some balance with husband. Everything is so weird.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Oh yeah, that's it.
I finally figured out what it is about this boy that's making me so crazy. And it only took me 9 days and an advanced degree in Psychology. First off, I met boy at an airport bar. And he was drinking a lot. And then we ordered drinks on the plane. He finished 2 in the time that I finished half of one. And ladies, I am not a slow drinker. In fact, I can suck down three beers in the time that husband has taken two sips of one. I'm not exaggerating here. So, young boy is sucking down cocktails and looking sexier and sexier to me. Is it just my vodka goggles? No! Of course not! It's my codependency goggles! Oh yeah. Those things. Anyway, young boy told me all about his Dad leaving he and his mom and his brother, told me all about his girlfriend leaving him and moving in with someone else, told me all about how he still thinks about her all the time and how sad he is. And I was in love with young boy. Now, what I know is that when you fall in love with someone like that, it's not that you're falling in love with them. It's that you're triggering something very, very, familiar. Husband is not an alcoholic. But ex-boyfriend is. Ex boyfriend who I was with from age 22-29 who would get so drunk, then cry about horrible things that occurred in his childhood. Oh and I loved exboyfriend. I loved him with a passion. It was the most crazy co-dependent relationship in the world. I took care of him, enabled him, loved him while he treated me like shit. And in the end left him. It's 7 years later and he's still in love with me. He's drunk himself into an isolated hole and won't talk to me, (though I still want to save him) but his friends report back to me that he's not doing well and that he still loves me and isn't over me. Tell the lady what she's won. It's not that I fell in love with young strapping lad. It's that I wanted to save him. Oh. Yeah. That. It took me a while to realize it though. And stalking and sleuthing. He made this comment over text about how he can't get together with me again, and he knows it's stupid, but he has all this guilt built up inside of him, and it always happens and he thinks that's why he feels the need to drink. Oh yeah. And then, I'm ashamed to admit it, but I ran a background check on him this morning and found that he had 2 DUIs before the age of 21. None since. But still. Brother is a full on alcoholic. And I am a full on codie. And it felt familiar and right and wonderful and painful and I wanted him so bad that I couldn't sleep at night. I needed husband to get into my sleeping pill stash for me. It's funny. I was trying to figure out why I was so inexplicably drawn to young and strapping. I kept thinking it was because he was so young and beautiful and sexy. But it's certainly not the first time that I've had the opportunity to have sex with someone sexier than my husband. But it's the first time I felt unable to refuse. I felt powerless. My draw to him was insane. I know that if we'd hooked up, it wouldn't have ended there. It would be a very long, very passionate, very, very, very messy relationship. I don't think it would have ended my marriage. But I think that it would have completely distracted me from my life, which it has completely done over the past week and a half. Seriously. I've only been thinking about him. It's all the classic codependency stuff. It's weird because I'm not like this with Husband. He and I have a more adult, more evolved relationship. It doesn't (and never did) have this level of charge and intensity. This felt crazy intense. I don't want to sleep with him anymore because I know that I'm confusing sex and sexual attraction with my deep need to take care of him. I want to be friends with him and offer myself as a friend to him because I truly do like him. He's great. But I'm not doing anything any time soon until I get some distance from it. And of course I have to tell husband about all this at some point. We have couples counseling today. But I think I need to wait until young and strapping has left this side of the country to tell husband. I'm too strung out right now.
Oh, and I should mention, in the midst of all this, I emailed ex-boyfriend and told him that I was thinking about him and I was here if he needed to talk.
Oh me. *le sigh...
Oh, and I should mention, in the midst of all this, I emailed ex-boyfriend and told him that I was thinking about him and I was here if he needed to talk.
Oh me. *le sigh...
It's Still there
I've still not stopped thinking about young and strapping lad. I keep hoping that he'll change his mind and send me a text. I know that I could probably text him and convince him, but I am not going to do that. This feeling that I have is so desperate and feels so awful. Poor husband. I've completely detached from him and he feels that he has to woo me back and doesn't know how to do that. So he's feeling desperate too. Clearly I'm not in love with young and strapping lad. But I feel like I am. Which is silly. When I called him, he had this voicemail message which was very much like the kind of message some young stud would have. "Yo whattup-- it's ***** you know whatta do! PEACE!" And as I said, I don't even remember what he looks like. But the feelings! Oh the feelings! And the desperation! Oh the desperation. I feel like a teenager. I was reminded of being 19 and once making out with this guy that I made out with in a club and then stalking him for months and trying to find him and find out as much information as I could about him. But I never found him again. I did the same thing with young and strapping last night. I didn't even know his last name. But last night, I used the power of the internet and 9.95 to find it out so I could sleuth a little more. Sleuthing was fruitless. I think that me and husband are more alike than I am willing to admit. He would find girls (without pictures!) on adult friend finder and stalk them all over the internet. Stalk them on 43 things! See if he could find them, but not try to talk to them, just see what he could find out. His fantasies were of a sexual nature, mine are of a romantic nature. It is easier when I observe than when I follow the feelings. Following them is devastating. It pulls me into this wretched place. I think he's leaving at the end of the week. I keep having the desire to text him and tell him I'm going to drive him to the airport. Just because I want to see him again. But again, I'm going to do my best to let it all pass. Oh us. Oh, me and husband. We are really such a pair.
Monday, August 16, 2010
So it turns out that I can be an asshole too.
I have never cheated on husband. I've had opportunities. Many. But I've never crossed that line because I love him and we took vows. It was just closed to me. Unfortunately, I didn't realize this because the opportunity hadn't presented itself, but that line somehow unconsciously opened after I found out about his sex addiction.
I went to another coast to visit my folks. The plane was delayed on the way back and I wound up sitting at the airport bar with this very dreamy boy, almost ten years my junior. And we drank. A lot. And then we drank more. Then we figured out a way to sit together on the plane. Where I told him all about my husband's internet adventures and how he was looking for women to sleep with on the internet and the cyber sex and how hurt I was and how I thought we had the perfect marriage, but it turned out to be something different. Then I told him about our issues with infertility and my husband's sperm count and how he Then we drank vodka. Then we were kissing. A lot. Then we were somehow planning the next 50 years together. We decided that we were going to be lovers till we were 80 (till he was 80 and I was 89). We decided that he was going to knock me up. He was here visiting some friends for a few weeks. We decided that when we woke up the next morning we'd have sex. I texted him in the morning telling him that my conscience gave my libido a stern talking to and that it wasn't a good idea. He said that he understood and that was it. So then I went to therapy and sorted through it with my shrink. That only made me decide that I wanted to do it. I don't know why. The whole thing brought so much shit up for me in so many different ways that I need to sort through. But this is what I'll say, it quickly went from sex to being totally emotional for me. I think that's because I'm a woman. So, we texted again and made a plan for a rendezvous. And it was planned. I told him that sex was off the table for me and that he should know that straight off the bat. But that I wanted to see him again. And he said that he wanted to see me again too. So we planned to meet a few days later. And so, the morning I woke up, I didn't chicken out. I really wanted to see him. I was giddy with excitement, but nervous. I was shaking and sweating. But I texted him. And he shot me down. He said that he felt like a scum bag and that he didn't think it was alright to do it. And he felt like he was using me it made him feel horrible. And he begged me not to be mad at him. Mad at him? Jeez. I was relieved. But then, all of a sudden it kicked in. I was rejected. It felt awful and continues to feel awful. I know that this is for the best. But all of a sudden, I'm feeling incredibly retraumatized and depressed. Husband thinks it's him. I told one girlfriend who thinks that it is about husband and that I'm sad about this boy but i'm not, i'm really sad about husband and it's easier and safer to be sad about a stranger. Truth of the matter is, I was so drunk when I was with said boy, that I was in and out of a blackout. I don't even remember what he looks like. Yet, I can't stop thinking about him. And I know that I'm obsessed with a fantasy. Of someone who could sweep me off my feet and take me away from this world of infertility and infidelity and deception and debauchery. But wasn't that what I was doing with this boy? This has nothing to do with him. Since I've been a little girl, I've looked to a man to save me. I've fallen in love more times than I can count. I am a love addict. I become obsessed with the fantasy of people rather than with actual people. And then my emotions spin wildly out of control. I want this boy to leave town so I can recover from this experience. He's leaving at the end of the week. Thank goodness. Yet I find myself hoping that he will change his mind and text me. I know that this is unreal, yet the feeling of heartbreak feels so real. Husband gets high off of the sex chemicals, me, wife, gets safe off of love chemicals. I pine for them. I used to pine away for men/boys all the time. From the time I was in 2nd grade with Ben Farber. Then, when husband became a sex addict, i felt rejected and was traumatized. Now, I am retraumatized again. I want my marriage to work. I hate my emotions. I am just so sad and depressed right now.
I went to another coast to visit my folks. The plane was delayed on the way back and I wound up sitting at the airport bar with this very dreamy boy, almost ten years my junior. And we drank. A lot. And then we drank more. Then we figured out a way to sit together on the plane. Where I told him all about my husband's internet adventures and how he was looking for women to sleep with on the internet and the cyber sex and how hurt I was and how I thought we had the perfect marriage, but it turned out to be something different. Then I told him about our issues with infertility and my husband's sperm count and how he Then we drank vodka. Then we were kissing. A lot. Then we were somehow planning the next 50 years together. We decided that we were going to be lovers till we were 80 (till he was 80 and I was 89). We decided that he was going to knock me up. He was here visiting some friends for a few weeks. We decided that when we woke up the next morning we'd have sex. I texted him in the morning telling him that my conscience gave my libido a stern talking to and that it wasn't a good idea. He said that he understood and that was it. So then I went to therapy and sorted through it with my shrink. That only made me decide that I wanted to do it. I don't know why. The whole thing brought so much shit up for me in so many different ways that I need to sort through. But this is what I'll say, it quickly went from sex to being totally emotional for me. I think that's because I'm a woman. So, we texted again and made a plan for a rendezvous. And it was planned. I told him that sex was off the table for me and that he should know that straight off the bat. But that I wanted to see him again. And he said that he wanted to see me again too. So we planned to meet a few days later. And so, the morning I woke up, I didn't chicken out. I really wanted to see him. I was giddy with excitement, but nervous. I was shaking and sweating. But I texted him. And he shot me down. He said that he felt like a scum bag and that he didn't think it was alright to do it. And he felt like he was using me it made him feel horrible. And he begged me not to be mad at him. Mad at him? Jeez. I was relieved. But then, all of a sudden it kicked in. I was rejected. It felt awful and continues to feel awful. I know that this is for the best. But all of a sudden, I'm feeling incredibly retraumatized and depressed. Husband thinks it's him. I told one girlfriend who thinks that it is about husband and that I'm sad about this boy but i'm not, i'm really sad about husband and it's easier and safer to be sad about a stranger. Truth of the matter is, I was so drunk when I was with said boy, that I was in and out of a blackout. I don't even remember what he looks like. Yet, I can't stop thinking about him. And I know that I'm obsessed with a fantasy. Of someone who could sweep me off my feet and take me away from this world of infertility and infidelity and deception and debauchery. But wasn't that what I was doing with this boy? This has nothing to do with him. Since I've been a little girl, I've looked to a man to save me. I've fallen in love more times than I can count. I am a love addict. I become obsessed with the fantasy of people rather than with actual people. And then my emotions spin wildly out of control. I want this boy to leave town so I can recover from this experience. He's leaving at the end of the week. Thank goodness. Yet I find myself hoping that he will change his mind and text me. I know that this is unreal, yet the feeling of heartbreak feels so real. Husband gets high off of the sex chemicals, me, wife, gets safe off of love chemicals. I pine for them. I used to pine away for men/boys all the time. From the time I was in 2nd grade with Ben Farber. Then, when husband became a sex addict, i felt rejected and was traumatized. Now, I am retraumatized again. I want my marriage to work. I hate my emotions. I am just so sad and depressed right now.
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