Tequila, Cigarettes and Sex

I brought a boy home with me from the bar last night.

He was a beautiful firefighter with massive arms - he could literally bench press me. He was sweet, kind, generous, and honorable. He was very young - nearly 10 years younger than me, but he had a perceptive wisdom beyond his years. He saw right through me, all my weaknesses and vulnerabilities, yet he made me feel protected and safe. We laid together for hours just holding onto each other, staring and admiring one another. It was amazing. It was exactly what we both needed.

The heart breaker?

He leaves for basic training on Monday. He's going to be an artillery scout in the army. They're sending him to Iraq in April.

I hate to think of a person with so much inner goodness being sent to war. It almost makes me cry. What if he gets killed? What if being in that environment changes him? What if he loses his kind sweetness and becomes hardened with anger?

He's asked himself the same questions, and he's afraid too. But this is what he wants. He is strong and he is ready for the challenge.

I hope he can stay strong enough to make it through and still come out with his best qualities intact. He really is a beautiful person, not just physically, but everything inside. In a small way, he actually restored my faith in the male gender. He'll make a great husband and father someday.

But not with me. Even if he wasn't leaving on Monday, I never had any allusions that this would be more than a one night stand. I knew what I was doing, and so did he. We picked each other for a reason. But I think we both got more than we planned. We met as two strangers looking for one night of reckless abandon, and instead we found a real personal connection.

He told me it was the first time he had ever laid next to someone for so many hours of conversation without getting bored. I melted into his arms and he held me tightly against his chest. I felt so warm, so cared for.

It was perfect.

Gods bless him and keep him safe. There are too few like him.

Did I mention that he's a firefighter with massive arms? Wow, holy man-muscles! I get a little flushed just thinking about it.

I wreak of alcohol and cigarettes, but I still smell his cologne and sweat all over me. Is it wrong that I don't want to take a shower? ^_~

That Old Black Magic

It's getting harder to concentrate and be productive at my job. It's getting harder to sleep at night. It's getting harder to pull myself out of bed each morning. It's getting harder to remove myself from the internet, the only place I feel safe reaching out.

Something's not right. Something is missing, I can feel it. This is all wrong. Everything. I know it is. I can't get over it. I can't stop thinking about it. I can't function because of it.

I want out. I want it all to stop. I want to run from it and hide. I want shelter and safety. I want my own space, away from everyone else. I want to sit quietly with my thoughts and not be on anyone else's schedule or agenda. I want to be free from all this.

But I want to be part of it too, for the sake of stretching it out. I want to dive in and splash around. I want to blend into the crowd, but I want everyone to see. I want to make an impression. I want to tear it all apart. Watch me while I self destruct and take you and your expectations with me.

I don't regret my life up to this point, but today, here and now, I must acknowledge that this is not where I want to be. This is not what I want. Any of it. If it feels wrong, that's because it is wrong.

The only real question left to ask is, where do I go from here, and how on earth do I get there?

Thank you, my friend, for your unintentional black inspiration. It is because of you that I have these little conversations with myself, now almost every day. You flipped the switch like it was a toy for your amusement, then you ran away to hide in your dark corner, far out of my reach. I am here alone with nothing but my thoughts, emotions, second guesses, and self doubt, always waiting for you to tell me something true.

And so the cycle continues.