::Let Me Clear My Throat::

I'm no stranger to strife. I've made a life out of it. For the last 6 weeks, however, I have been all but welded inside the Struggle Bus with zero hope for escape. Every attempt I made to find a suitable place failed.  I was still paying the bills, so saving money to move was impossible. I spend hundreds of dollars on background and credit checks for myself and the other adults in the house only to be denied  because of me.  When we finally got (reluctantly) approved for a perfect place, I watched it fall through right before we were to sign the lease. Every door was being slammed in my face.  My daughter and her boyfriend openly called me a loser to my face, and fuck if I didn't feel like one. I started to fall completely apart, and pulled away from all of them so I could drown myself in my own pity.  Nothing worked out in my favor. I was convinced for weeks that I would be homeless and alone by the end of this month. I resigned myself to the idea that Kid...

If Jones and I were a baseball team, you could say we finally knocked it out of the park. After many months of ridiculous sexual tension, timing was finally on our side, and it was worth every ounce of it's weight in dirty deeds.  I hoped doing so would finally 'scratch the itch' so to speak, but it had the complete opposite affect; I'm practically crawling out of my skin for more of him. I feel like I can't get close enough.  It now feels like I have my own sort of claim on him, and it's getting a bit hard to remain discreet; Now that I've had him in every way, I want to be able to have the freedom to touch him whenever I want to- graze my fingertips across his chest when he passes by.  Pat his delectable, muscular ass when I walk behind him. Kiss him hello or goodbye and not have to be awkward about it first. 75% of the time, Jones and I remain business as usual.  If you were an unassuming outsider, we would not arise any suspicion whatsoever. O...

There are times I can tell myself that I can stop this thing with Jones anytime I want. Times that I laugh at myself for being so bananas over someone I can never have and I wonder what the hell I'm doing.  I have a sassy, flamboyant little voice of reason sitting on my shoulder who brings me back down to earth after my little trips to the clouds.  That voice of reason gives me my reality check, and snaps me back to reality when I start getting all gushy. I rely on it and I need it. So WHYYYYYYY does it disappear as soon as I see his dumb face and and the dumb smile he gets when I approach him. Just when I thought I was out, he pulls me back in. I've taken some notes.  This man actively does things to make me like him. Just dumb things- little jokes and cute comments that make me smile and/or blush (he loves that), watching out the window for me to pull up and meeting me at the door with all of those things and his stupid ass handsome face and grin. Or he'll do bigge...

Ok, switching gears for a second. My post the other day reflected that nagging little bit of guilt over what I'm a part of. I know that what I'm doing with Jones is morally reprehensible, and being a person who has been 'the wife' for all intents and purposes, I know how damaging this could be if it got out. A good friend who I have confided in put a spin on things for me the other day, and I'm having a hard time finding an argument against it. In the span of 3 weeks, a mutual friend of ours went from a beautiful, lively mother of four to stage 4 terminal cancer patient. She's exactly my age, minus a day. If that doesn't show you how short life is, nothing will. Friend A broke it down- I'm generally a good person.  I'm not out to steal him or break up his family. I have no desire to hurt anyone. We are simply two consenting adults having fun, and eventually this will burn out, and nobody has to find out about our escapades. Life is fucking SHOR...

"No, I don't think I will kiss you, although you need kissing, badly. That's what's wrong with you. You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how." Mr. Jones must have Rhett Butler on speed dial. I've spent some time in the last 18 hours rolling around in a haze. It's safe to say that Jones and I can check another illicit incident off our list (whoops). All it took was a simple graze of fingers on my hip and I crumbled like a sand castle. He pushed me against the doorframe, and just looked at me with his stupid, sexy smirk, and my knees felt wobbly, then finally, blessedly, kissed me. We've kissed before, but it was just a couple of hurried smooches, like a snack before dinner. This time...oh. This was a 'bodies pressed together, up against the doorframe, lips sealed, just enough tongue, both of his hands buried in my hair, little moans, can't get close enough, please don't ever fucking stop, this must be what eupho...

Despite my recent violations, I want to make it clear that I respect the institute of marriage. Not only do I respect it, but I believe in it and covet it for myself, and generally take issue with those that have it and shit on it.  Like, how dare you take advantage of the fact that someone promised themselves to you by waving your genitals at someone else.  It's shitty and unfair, and if you're a knowing  accomplice in any of this genital waving (cough:me:cough), then you're just as shitty.  Which brings me to my existential crisis of the moment: By carrying on with Jones, am I irreparably damaging my carefully curated karma? It might sound stupid, but go with me here.  If you read me or know me personally, you know that I am a hardcore relationship person, and, aside from a few misfires over the years, have been single for the better part of a decade. What if this little thing sets back all my progress thus far and I end up a 55 year old single cat lady? Ok...

How is it possible for someone to slay you with just a look? Mr Jones and I have been keeping a low profile the last few weeks, and have not revisited our dirty dealings since the first time.  At first this pissed me off a little; there was zero acknowledgement of what happened the first week or so after we did things.  I'm a grown up and don't need validation, but he and I crossed a line that we can't come back from; I was hoping for a conspiratorial look or two, at the very least. Something that said, ' Hey we've seen each other naked, thanks for swallowing my load'. Alas, I got bupkis, and it became business as usual, but with with an emphasis on purposely ignoring what happened.  Guilt with a capital "GUH". I started to resign myself to the idea that what happened was a one shot deal, and he has now fucked me out of his system.  It kinda hurt, I can't lie, but that's my fault for being in my feelings for someone that can't return t...