The Last Three Days

This new man I’ve met is unlike anyone I’ve ever met before. Unlike any other man. He’s definitely a man. Very masculine. No one could ever see him dressing up as a woman. He’d make a very unattractive drag queen. But if it turns out he secretly likes to do that, at this point I’d buy his cosmetics. That’s how hooked I already am. The only thing that could possibly deter me at this point—just after our first date—is if he killed someone, and even then I’d ask, In what context? Self-defense? To save someone else? Actually child molestation. That would be the only deal breaker at this stage, or at any stage.

No one could accuse him of being a big boy, not in any negative sense. He notices things about you and he remembers what you’ve said and he asks about you. He wants to know who you are as a person. It’s not all about him and who he is; he’s not spending the whole time telling you all about him and how great he is. He’s not trying to pretend to be someone he isn’t. When he talks about himself, he tries to be honest about who he really is so that you can get to know the real him. And pretty much all I can think about is what he’ll look like on top of me, kissing me, with my hands on his face, arms, chest. That first moment when he enters me, and eye contact, a sigh, and connection. I just want to eat him, take a bite out of him, his shoulder, his neck, when he’s inside of me. Fucking. Lots of fucking and sucking. That is pretty much all I can think about at this point.

One of my friends often says that everyone is crazy, we just have to find a partner who is our brand of crazy. And this man is my brand of crazy. We’ve only had one date and we’ve talked for hours on the phone and sent dozens and dozens of texts. In our minds we’ve already slept together, gone on vacations, and moved in together. It’s borderline insanity. No, it IS insanity. That’s what love is. This time I don’t feel crazy in a manic sense but I suspect he may, and I recognize that there’s a real danger here, to many things, but mainly to my sobriety and my career focus.

I’ve wanted so badly to get the love, the job, and the house, and finally I let go of trying so hard to get a man. When I did, poof! Here he is. The problem is he may be an alcoholic. And I am already hooked. It is already too late. I can’t let him go just because he may be or become an alcoholic. He doesn’t drink right now, but that doesn’t mean he won’t drink later. It’s the way in which he talks about alcohol that scares me. Only time will tell. I’m not concerned about relapsing, though I am mindful of it; I’m more concerned about the person he’ll become when he drinks. If he’s a real alcoholic the first thing he’ll do when we have problems is drink, and then who will he be? If he’s an alcoholic like me, he’ll become a different person.

There’s not a scientist out there who can tell me more about alcoholism that I don’t already know from personal experience. No amount of research and investigation and self-knowledge can deter an alcoholic from avoiding this insidious disease. By the time an alcoholic realizes they’re alcoholic, it’s too late. And if someone thinks they may have a problem with alcoholism, they probably do. Normal drinkers don’t wonder if they’re alcoholic. They just don’t. And there’s no reversing alcoholism. All one can do at that point is abstain and, in my experience, practice a spiritual program because a higher power is the only thing that I can rely on to help me live life on life’s terms.

It’s funny how my higher power gives me this thing I’ve been wanting so badly, under these terms. What am I supposed to do with this? What does this mean?

To continue from yesterday’s writing, I hope that the fact that the universe brought me this amazing, wonderful, beautiful man because I was meant to find love, I deserve love, from a person who is open about his feelings and thoughts, and I can and will learn to love and grow from this place. I hope it doesn’t turn out to be a situation in which this man turns out to be some other brand of crazy that’s not like mine, some brand of crazy I won’t be able to deal with, and that at some point in the future I’ll be broken again because I wanted someone so badly that I made him my higher power, when I need to be focusing on myself. I hope it doesn’t mean that God, aka my higher power, sent me someone to tempt me away from trying to find a job and a new place because maybe I’m meant to stay here for longer in spite of what I want, which is love and money. Because this tiny voice of doubt tells me I can’t get what I really want, love the way I want it doesn’t really exist, that the universe’s path for me isn’t the one I think I want. There’s definitely something for me to learn and grow from here, but I don’t know if it’s what I think it is, or what I hope it is. What I hope for is true love and a partner I can grow with, and not to find myself in exactly the same boat again a year or five or 10 years from now when I’ve jumped ship to travel the world alone to do more soul-searching since that seems to be my MO.


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