The endless torment of an adulteress

It had been weeks since I had cried in the shower. Weeks since I had cried about you, or was it months? It feels like only yesterday you were in my bed but it has actually been almost three months. Three months since I told you to stop contacting me. We both knew you wouldn’t.

I didn’t expect your email tonight, sitting at book club, listening to the members politely argue for their preferred Christmas party venue. Who the fuck cares? Your alias had appeared in my inbox and all thoughts were on its contents.

“This is bad of me I know …” said the subject line. It is bad. And you do know, yet you do it anyway.

I was driving past your place this afternoon (well the express). I got very horny and hardened. I could not get the thought of you on my face and my tongue all over you. I could not get past running it from your clit to your arse and eating there until you covered me in your cum.

God I wanted to fuck you so badly…

It was about 5:40. I wondered if you were home and wondered what you were doing.

I’m hard again as I type this.

Oh yes, this is bad of you. Very bad. And so incredibly unfair. Admittedly I had started it weeks ago with a late night and drunken “I miss you” but you shouldn’t encourage me. You should have ignored me. Deleted me. Blocked me. Like I should have done to you, like I still should.

What do you want from me? Your situation hasn’t changed. You can’t or won’t choose to be with me. There is nothing here, no future. And I am trying to move on, I am, moving on. There is someone I’m seeing, someone I’ve been spending a lot of time with. He’s not you though. No one is like you.

But while ever there is a whisper of you, I’m stuck. I’m almost scared to move on with someone else because that means giving up on you.

You deserve to be given up on. I know what’s good for me and it’s not you. But knowing something and being able to do it are two different things that are so often at odds with one another.

Please stop tormenting me. I don’t have the heart to stop hurting myself with thoughts of you. Isn’t one of us enough?

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