I'm in the guard shack. Barefoot.
The heater blowing at me from the left, the fan blowing at me from the right.
I am jittery from cold medicine and energy drinks.
I am listening to Coleman Hawkins' rather beautiful album, "Night Hawk"
I am reading (or was reading) Bukowski's "The Last Night of the Earth Poems." The last collection of his work before he died.
There is a woman in town that wants to fuck me. She just texted me to let me know that she was only 11 minutes away from my work.
There is, naturally, a lot of missing context to this story, but let me lay out the skeleton of the thing:
She and I have never met in person. But have known each other for a few years now. Mostly through writing.
At times when we have both been single, we have enjoyed a rather intense sexual chemistry, which is maybe a strange thing to say for a relationship subsisting wholly of phone sex and snap chat, but yes, my God, we seem to know how to drive the other wild instinctually.
But despite the immediacy of video chat and voice recordings, she has always been in Florida.
And I have always been not in Florida.
But now we are both not in Florida. We are now, for the first time in our lives, inhabiting the same zip code.
And I am now not single.
The relationship I am in is strange and almost literally sexless and contains very little romance or affection. We both get easily overwhelmed by all of that. We're just neurodivergent trauma babies that literally just eat chicken nuggets and watch movies together. But it is intimate and important and I cherish it. Or at least I think I do.
I know that I am in this relationship in part because I am stuck in it. We have not been able to afford to live apart. But (quite possibly) I will be moving out this week. It'll give us space to figure ourselves out. I am back on forth on just what it is that our relationship is constantly. I often feel that I am not getting what I need. Or is that what I want? How do I know the difference?
Nonetheless, I am in it. And we agreed it would be monogamous (though that's not something appealing to me, it is something I agreed to).
And this woman, right now, is 11 minutes away.
And she has told me what she wants to do to me. We have both wanted this for a long time.
And I am alone, a security guard of a giant factory where everyone has left for the day. So many offices and locker rooms.
I know where there are no cameras.
I know that sex in a semi-public place is her biggest fantasy. One she has yet to live out.
And she is 11 minutes away.
She sent me a picture.
She is wearing a sweater. She is not wearing a bra. Her lips are red. Her hair is dark and curly.
I know what Bukowski would do.
Probably what Coleman Hawkins would do.
I have been told that most men would do the same. I don't know if that's true.
And look, do I want to? Oh my God, yes. But I have abstained. I have been good.
She was just here for the weekend. Mostly spending time with old friends for Christmas. They just happen to live in Tulsa.
But we talked and I told her that I was going to abstain.
And it was fine. We made it through the weekend. We texted a few times, but nothing sexual. Just things like, I'm at this place or that place have you been there? Where should we eat? That kind of thing.
Her flight was supposed to take her back to Florida yesterday. But it was through Southwest. Which had a real bummer of a couple of days there. And so now she is here until Saturday.
"Stranded. 11 minutes away from you," said the text
Followed by a picture that was chaste enough for deniability but suggestive enough to declare intention.
An unmistakable look in the eye.
So here we are presented in real time with temptation.
And here we are writing in this here diary to avoid writing other things as a text message to her.
It has been well over a month since I've had sex. Is that worth consideration? Sure, but how much consideration?
In the end, I only think of suffering.
The end result of this is suffering for all involved.
I feel so much guilt for being tempted.
And my God, do I ever feel tempted.
But I love my girlfriend too much.
I love this woman too much.
I don't love myself really, but I want to, and it would be harder if I went through with this.
I am going to go take a walk in the cold wind.
Splash a little water on my face.
I don't like this war between body and mind. Not one bit. I want to give in to desire and really splurge and soak up all that hedonistic bliss. But also I don't want to. There lies the rub.
I feel like the mind is going to win this one. Aided, as always, by emotion and the evergreen desire for the avoidance of pain.
And love, whatever that is.
I mean, I know love is everything.
But sex, romance, attachment, commitment, they confuse it to all Hell
7:00 a.m. - 2022-12-29
Recent entries:
To be Good. But Actually Good. - 2023-03-21
The side effects of thawing. - 2023-03-16
Everything in between - 2023-02-22
Not Much, You? - 2023-01-29
The Precarity of Poverty - 2023-01-22
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