My honest truth

Where do I even start now?

Honesty. That's where I'll begin.

I had an encounter this weekend. It was sanctioned, I had permission, and it was safe. I've been with this man before and I trust him, rightfully. This is a long history, one that began perhaps three years ago. The decision was long thought out, discussed, and approved.

I'm trying to sort out what I really feel about this. I didn't feel crazy. I didn't feel out of control. I do feel that addictive sensation now, though, and by that I mean the craving for more, the sadness that I can't capture time, and the loss after the excitement died down--and the extreme fear of abandonment and of being used.

I don't think I could go backward now; I don't have the insane drive for the unknown anymore. I realized that I did not desire a strange man, a new encounter, the extreme tension and artificial intensity of a new conquest. I am happy with a familiar lover. This is a positive sign, and I am relieved.

I obviously still need the validation sexually of a man outside my marriage. I wish I could change that, but I don't know how.

It has now been five days. The ecstasy has completely worn off. I am depressed and feel a cold emptiness inside. This is the pattern of sex addiction, is it not? I am feeling desperate for contact and reassurance; and the other feeling, which goes hand in hand with having been covertly invested, I believe, is a cruel disappointment that I didn't capture his heart. I don't need it or even want it, but when I fail to seduce body and heart, I feel worthless and hopeless. This scenario feels very familiar to me, from my past.

The emptiness is difficult to cope with. I gave away an unusually strong aspect of myself this time. And now I am fighting a battle within, trying not to sacrifice my dignity, as I have done in the past. He asks nothing of me, and I want to not need to ask anything of him. But this is not my nature and I'm playing a persona I am not.

I always hurt after these encounters, simply because of who I am. I wish I didn't need this drug. Real life felt so awful and I jumped at the chance to dissociate. Its the same with all addictions, wouldn't you say?