are you hot? good looking?
are you THAT good in bed?
do you still love him?
do you love him?
do you love him?
These are the questions that echo in my head this night. 11pm - a mason called me to talk about his dear brother & friend. He was asking me over & over again these same questions.
Damn you! This must be a trick.
How can I honestly answer him, when truthfulness is what got me in this mess to begin with. I spill out my heart in empty hope - only to be crucified & taken to court for my words. I formulate my jealousy & rage into poems, songs & emails. Nothing to gain. Only to release ... the bitter pain of rejection & heartbreak.
It has been one full year since I have stepped foot on his property. Years since we've kissed. Months since we've spoken. Never any physical violence, valid threats, or any weapons.... only the emotional ongoing turmoil between both of us. Now he's getting a restraining order against me, the 105 lb camp diva, cuz he can't stand seeing my hot lil ass around our small town.
Why did he have to move here? My life was nearly perfect until he showed up. Why him, why now?
Is he really hurting as much as me?
This has been the most difficult time of my life, all because I fell in love with the wrong man (my only stalker) & didn't have the time for him. I was too damn busy with my stupid little dot com dream.
Seeing him repeatedly in our small town makes me melt. Crying daily about my lost love is ridiculous, so I managed to pull myself together, re-landscape my backyard, triple my web traffic & of course, find another local man to screw.
No, I am no longer loving. I am simply fucking - again. Unconsciously existing. Trying to fight back the tears, as I am being embraced by another, I wonder what real manhood is all about. Over & over again I regret & I grieve. Trying my absolute hardest to forget, to let go, to get over him - I work my winter away in front of this box. Choosing another man these days, just to fill the void.
Needless to say, I am very bizarre chick. One who follows her passion by never following men. Obsessive - about life, about travel, about the outdoors, about our earth, about fun times with friends, about sex, about everything.
Yes, I am sorry that I couldn't have treated him better when he was here. Now, this subtle reminder is in my face daily -- for me to review with remorse, often, but not silently.
