CH 1

I suppose I should feel guilt, but I am way beyond that now. All I feel is a welcoming sense of homecoming. The darkness is back. I am so fucked up. I turn away from the realization that I am never truly happy unless I am miserable. Perhaps because I am always secretly wanting to be hurt. There is nothing like pain to make you feel alive. As an optimist, I was too easily disappointed. Much better to be the pessimist and expect the worst. That way I can be surprised by something better happening.

I am attracted to the idea of love. When it found me, I embraced it. I caught a glimpse of light and eventually the darkness surrounding me receded in its presence. However, I always felt it lurking...lying in wait. Dormant. The fact that it knew something, that it stuck around, should have been a clue. It knew the light could not hold it at bay forever. Without light, there would be no shadow. And there in the shadows the darkness waits for me. Ever so patiently. Until moments like this, when patience wears thin, and it beckons me. The silent scream inside my head.

I cannot resist temptation, therefore, I avoid it. If never faced with it, I cannot succumb to it. Yet here I find myself. On this night. Why do we do bad things at night? Because we believe no one can see? Or so the light of morning can banish the darkness for us, and we can pretend "it" didn't happen again? That once the sun descends, "it" won't happen again.

I find that if you prolong the inevitable, the pleasure is that much sweeter. I am not worried about fantasy living up to reality. I am never disappointed. I am confident in my choosing. Fantasy is not tactile. I long for human touch. The warmth created as a hand touches my skin. The only time the cold cannot reach me.

It is an escape. I know this. I don't care. I welcome this weakness. I am a good person. Mostly. I just need this one thing. This one rush. It is my addiction. I can compartmentalize. I put this away in a mental box to appear normal. Then open the box when no one is looking to stroke what's inside. Every so often, I reach in to take it out. That's when it gets away from me. I get greedy when I think I can control it. I won't learn. I never do.