Wow....I feel so lost.

and so free.

All at the same time.

I haven't diary-ed or blogged or released in written form in some time.

I've got all this S.H.I.T. bottled up. Here's one thing. Fifty-leben dozen more.

Time to regain my even keel.

___________________

I'm with R. Right now R is not floating my boat. R's babymomma moved in with him. Why? She's the equivalent of a deadbeat: professional slacker who doesn't provide for the kid. R handles that.

So why not have the KID move in?...Not them both. She's grown. She needs to learn to fend for self. Others do. The old adage, "You don't eat if you don't work," applies here: she needs to learn it.
I'm not jealous. Not afraid they'll rekindle. Shit, if they do, they do. I don't think it's likely though. Not deluding myself, but I feel pretty secure in that. However, the willingness to be a receptacle for other's discarded mess (she was dumped by her fiance) that he exhibits bothers me. Sigh.

And so...As I'm prone to do when I'm feeling dejected and despondent, I turn elsewhere looking for a temporary boat-float. Found one. Kinda. It's not even that serious though. It does, however, give me something to think about other than R. That's just it though: I'm thinking about it too damned much.

Met online (what's new? seems like I only meet flakes and deadasses in person). I was busy being elated about R a few weeks ago, so we didn't really connect until recently. Connect? Did we. Could be onesided, but I felt a *click* that I'm missing right now. I've been missing it for a while, apparently. Funny what introspection reveals.
It felt good to feel "felt", understood, affirmed. Laughing at common ironic views on things, similar sentiments. Damn. Cool.

I needed some simple conversation and listening and I got that. I needed some common appreciation of subjects and I got that. Then I wanted attentive, intuitive sensuality combined with sexuality, verbalized desire, fervor, heat. Boy did I get that.

I feel like a fuckin' crack addict.

He probably didn't mean to, but this man blew me the fuck away. Don't get me wrong, I'm not downing his skills, 'cause he gots S.K.I.L.L.S.!! but it was more what I was needing that made it so spectacular. He filled that need and now I'm fiending like, "Please sir: I want some more!"

I think I simply want escape in that feeling...and I want to revisit it over and over and over. Some people take long baths to wash away the b.s. of life; I'm using the high I got that night.
It's only that particular high that I crave at this moment.

Sad to say...don't think I've ever done this before: while I was with R the other day I was fantasizing about [we'll call him] Z. I've never before had an issue with R's fucking/lovemaking/sexing. I felt so unabashedly entitled to have this other man's face and lips and tongue and hands and dick and body and voice in my thoughts. I couldn't push the thoughts away hard as I tried.

I went to sleep with this man on my mind and awoke fearing I'd given voice to my thoughts and fantasy. He was not a fantasy though: he is a reality that I've experienced. I want and need more of it.

Fickle as I am though, this craving, this desire, the yearning may vanish as quickly as it began. It could all be an exaggeration of something nice, but less than what I've mocked it up to in my head. NAW! I was there and it was what it was.

I don't feel guilty about cheating. I do feel, know, that something is missing. How to fix that is the bigger problem.

Of course, my mind changes direction as the fish in my astrological indicator, so tomorrow may bring another sun.

Big sigh.