I spent a lot of time in my own company, which felt nice but it also allowed me to embark on the feel-good, confidence boosting activities I used to do in my single days. It was fun dressing up, putting on extravagant makeup and transforming into a different person before the camera lens which watched me move to the much loved familiar tracks playing in the background. I allowed the rhythms to flow through me and soon I forgot all about my troubles. I'm a terrible actor and I can be so socially awkward at times but in the privacy of my closed bedroom door and it's just me with the company of my camera, I feel so different. I feel alive. The devious side of me helps me escape the concerns of the usual every day. I wish I could ignore it, like I have for years at a time before but it rises to the surface and I can't deny it...he enables me. Our exchanges blossomed into new chapters and we both admitted feeling like we did when we first started talking back in 2014 over messages that became more intimate and, well, more than just friends. He admitted that he had never deleted anything that I had ever sent him. When I feel like I've learnt all there is to learn about him he surprises me with something new I didn't know before.
It shouldn't let him light that fire inside me, it's absolutely pathetic thinking about it now, how easy he achieves it and reading back the words I type right now, I feel so irritated by my actions. But, it's there, the smile feels real and I feel real. It's like a black and white photograph slowly fading from black and white to colour. But it is wrong, because none of it is real - it is all a fantasy. He is my fantasy. We click 110% in every sexual aspect, completely. Any boxes to be ticked, are ticked in definite, black permanent marker pen. In paper, in words, in the flesh. But really, that's the only true connection we share. And it's a connection neither of us should know about. Neither of us should be feeding it, that's for sure. But that aspect we share burns strong and keeps us coming back for more. I highly doubt i'll ever find another connection that matches it and he has told me the same thing. I would never have thought I would ever have fallen for it, surely sex is feeble. I remember my innocent days overhearing women talking about similar issues with their relationships and rolling my eyes, wondering who could be so foolish to fall for sex, - love is what it's about - it's about love. But the past 10 years have changed this viewpoint, much to my disappointment, thinking about it. Somehow, I am able to separate what I love from what I desire. The two paths do not cross, it's like oil on water. I don't know how and I don't know when this occurred.
I want to fall into the imaginary frame where my imagination projects the hazy, drunken glow when our faces beam and smile, our eyes meet each other and stay maintained and our touch is firm yet tender. The hungry greed of satisfaction where we only want to please each other. I could live in that frame forever. Heavenly. But of course, not only is it forbidden but it is also temporary. And the reality is that with the drunken glow comes the memory loss and the awful feeling the following morning.
I really hope I can remember more clearly...remember his words, the way he looks at me, whether a secret might escape him. Maybe it won't. I shut my eyes and see him grin at his door with his guard dropped by whisky. I don't want to picture him standing there, but I can't forget how free he makes me feel. Maybe this time I'll open up to him, I'll share things with him, I'll actually let him in. Maybe he'll listen, maybe he'll let me in in return. It's impossible to tell. Maybe it's for the best that I don't. Too many maybe's. Too many things I want to remember.
There's lots happening this week at work before Friday comes around. But these thoughts help keep my mind busy as I hope the time goes quickly.
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