The *Real* Addiction

I don’t have an addictive personality. I’ve never been addicted to anything before. Although for the past few years, I thought I was actually addicted to one person. One thing. For the first time! Fortunately (or unfortunately), I never thought about what that meant, that need to be around him. That physical pull towards him. The ecstasy when I was touching him. That awful, awful pulsing of my blood and bottomless pit in my stomach and unbelievably dry scratchy excuse for a throat that can’t form words or sentences when he’s not around. I’d always say, ‘I’ve never felt this way before about anyone,’ and ‘This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me,’ when in reality, this absolutely was NOT the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I HAD felt this way about someone before. In fact, this is how I feel about ALL of the men I date, unfortunately. I find someone who really seems to understand me and care about me and we find a deeper connection through sex and other naked times, and then before I know it I find myself craving that physical attention that he never craves because of the simple fact that men are not *like* women and don’t have that need to be around the person they’re sleeping with all the time. In fact, at least for me, the men I date seem to have the need to have their own separate lives as much as they need oxygen, and so my desire to spend as much time as possible with them is overshadowed and frankly thrown in the stupid trash by their desire to be away from me. And then I want them even more purely for the fact that I’m seemingly being pushed away, even though I’m not ACTUALLY being pushed away, I just have unrealistic expectations for what ‘dating’ really means. This was my interpretation of the chain of events.

Now, I’m realizing that the craving and needing and being addiction to someone is almost as bad as having those feelings toward a substance. The only reason I say ‘almost’ is because it doesn’t physically eat away at your body like drugs, alcohol, and other addictions do. Speaking of, has anyone watched that show My Strange Addiction?? Holy shit. My life is SPARKLES compared to those people. I watched the one where the woman was addicted to eating household cleanser. Like Comet. SHE WOULD EAT IT UP TO 10 TIMES A DAY. I feel bad about myself when I drink a beverage that has calories in it (unless it has alcohol), let alone putting an actual chemical into my body. But I guess that’s the thing about addiction. You don’t control it, it controls you.

I don’t know if it’s the warmth, the feeling of someone else’s breathing and their skin against mine, or just the sheer pleasure of an orgasm, but at some point the feelings I have for someone after I have sex with them aren’t real. They’re just that stupid chemical that gets released in my brain that makes me THINK I care about them, and then I settle for all their bullshit, thinking that ‘I can live with this, it’s fine, I’m just the crazy one,’ and accept the fact that they don’t want me like I want them, and then cry over the whole thing. What? Don’t tell me you’ve never felt this way. It’s like the teenage raging hormone thing but amplified by 1,347 because now, as an adult, you supposedly have the wherewithal to make actual logical decisions because you supposedly have more life experience to work with, and you actually have to face the consequences of your actions. Oh, and you don’t live at home with your parents so you can’t have sex all over the kitchen/bathroom/bedroom like you can when you have your own place and your own life. SO IN THEORY, it makes sense that I would be able to make better decisions, you know, since I have gotten such a great education, have a great job, and because I’ve seen over and over and over again what lust does to my heart. But on the other hand, it’s really not fair, because I actually AM still a child, just with bigger boobs and an ever-growing sex drive. The question isn’t whether or not I should stop taking everything so casually, and whether or not I should just admit to myself that I *do* want a boyfriend. The question is how. How do you change your expectations of yourself and everyone else, when you’ve been desperately trying to keep everyone and everything at arm’s length so that those feelings of actually caring about someone don’t take over? How do you really trust that finally letting someone in will help you, when every time you do that your soul gets crushed? And before you decide to let someone in, how do you disclose that you’re mortified about the whole situation without them thinking that you’re completely insane? Or is it better to just allow everyone to know that you’re insane because then at some point someone will be okay with your insanity and actually be pleasantly surprised when they learn that you’re not ACTUALLY that insane? Or is that ridiculous because if someone is okay with you being insane then isn’t there a pretty good chance that they’re probably insane too??

FUCK.

I just want to be Samantha already. She gets to have a good firefighter fuck and then go back to her independent life.

Listening to: Adele – Rolling in the Deep