Wickedly Warped & Wildly Wanton

There he stands, in all his six foot three inch glory, lust swimming before me like a hazy illusion. Electricity flowing through my veins, making my skin tingle. The warmth from his proximity gives me a dull ache inside, creating a longing so poignant, it leaves me vulnerable and wanting more. His heady scent makes me feel intoxicated with uncontrollable wanton longing. I consciously remind myself to breathe, while an inner voice was nudging me to go, run the other way, no good would come from this.

Starting with a yearning so vague he consumes my thoughts, seeping into my unconsciousness. He is there in my dreams urging me forward into depths of passion never experienced. New feelings bubbling to the surface, I should be frightened. Instead I want to explore every delectable sin making sleep irresistible, so I can bask in those moments of wicked pleasure.

Frantically dreaming of bittersweet love making, I want to go to bed early and take naps on the weekends. Feverish with desire, my temperature rising, my face flushed, sensing a heat within and waking with a deep throbbing. Dreaming is no longer enough. Constantly plagued with thoughts of forbidden fruit, my addiction has acquired a mind of its own. Needing to feed my habit I will go to any lengths to have my cravings met. I have to see him, breathe him in. I need actual contact to make my “high” last longer.

Parker walks towards me with the god like quality I have bestowed upon him. Leaning in to hug me, I hesitate letting go. I want to nuzzle my nose into his neck. His scent intoxicates my memory becoming the fruits of my sexual masochism. Flashes of dropping kisses down his collar bone dance through my head. I am certain the physical manifestation of my lust is apparent on my face and I can only hope he remains unsuspecting. I slowly withdraw leaving my impression upon him. The instant he shifts his weight his shirt twists and falls back into place, no longer holding the memory of our embrace.

Going through the motions of polite conversation, I want to wildly scream, “You completely wreck me! You leave me being a victim of unbalanced lust and obsession!”

Wanting someone is not a bad thing, unless you are already with someone else. My perception of reality is slowly being warped by desire and longing. The inevitable truth, he is not mine and I cannot be his. I feel like I am living and breathing for an unattainable holy grail. Contemplating the sacrifice of all the things tangible in my life for my next “high” I admit, I need help.

I have an addiction and the first step to “getting well” is to ask for help. Where does one go when your addiction is shear lust and desire? Where can I go to admit I want nothing more than to feel his hands all over me? With AA or any other twelve step program the main requirement is to truly want to QUIT, but do I want to? With today’s technology it is easy to talk to him, to see him, to want him. I am not sure I am ready to give up my addiction; after all, no one is holding me accountable. It is my secret and I revel in it. It has been forever since something was just mine; mine to know, mine to enjoy.

Parker and I run in the same social circles making it effortless to have a serendipitous run-in. It is not like I can cut him out of my life without alerting everyone, including him that something was awry. Self medicating, about to fall off the preverbal cart, and I am without a sponsor. Making excuses for seeing him, excuses why I cannot stop. Seeing myself through his eyes; that is an addiction in itself. He makes me feel extraordinary, and that I am not prepared to give up.

Around Parker I escape into a world of fantasy, where I can be anyone. Around him I am not a mother or a wife. I could be jetting off to somewhere exotic leaving responsibility behind. Thoughts of soccer practice, what to cook for dinner and the three weeks of piled up laundry float swiftly out of my mind.

Parker reminds me I am an attractive, strong and beautiful woman. I want; I need to hold on to the passion and independence I feel when I am around him. Being in his presence is like someone grabbing those paddles you see in an emergency room and yelling, "Clear" shocking me back to life. The strange thing is I had not realized I have been dying.

It is not a death you will read about in the newspaper or hear on the eleven o’clock news. It is death by indifference and self sacrifice. I have let my life become stagnant, become vanilla. Suspended in a state of unconsciousness, going so long unseen, I have unknowingly forgotten who I am.

Being usurped by love; bound to it, does not vaccinate you to lust and desire. Lust is powerful, because it has the capacity to instantly relieve and reduce pain, allowing you to temporarily forget your problems. I was so focused on being the perfect mom, the flawless Good Housekeeping ™ wife, a reliable and indispensable employee, and a friend that has never ending time and tissues, that somewhere along the way I lost my face, my identity.

Upon parting, I crash like any other junkie, as surely as I know he goes about his day oblivious to how he makes me feel. The reality is being around him is a temporary high. I am not unhappy or unfulfilled. I love being a supporting wife to an incredible man and a mother of two fantastic little boys, but how do I do that without losing myself? I need balance. To somehow translate those feeling I have around Parker back into my “real” life. Perhaps the lust I feel for him is more about longing for change.

Every time I see Parker it is like my sobriety starts back at day one. I don’t doubt that my lustful addiction regarding him is sincere, but his real gift was showing me I can be gorgeous and independent with a strong sense of self. I do not have to sacrifice all the things that define who I am in order to juggle all the multifaceted roles of; wife, mom, friend, daughter, sister and employee. I can be extraordinary in those roles as long as somewhere in the mix “I” always exist.

Unearthing all my old passions I can shelf my “lust” addiction and replace it with healthier activities. I use to write, rock climb and kick box. While resuming those activities I added new ones as well. I joined a belly dancing class, bought tickets for a cruise, took a helicopter ride/flying lesson, and lost weight. I have found myself less agitated at work, with my boys and my husband by remembering to never lose my place again.

Although he may never know the role he played, I will forever be grateful to Parker for energizing life back into me and reminding me I count!

2 comments:

cjn said...

I want you to know that I really admire you for laying your feelings out there for us all to relate to. This essay is strong and right from the realities of life. It is full of very energetic and dramatic words. It is obvious to me that you put a lot of time and effort into making it say exactly what you wanted. I am impressed with each paragraph and the transitions of various thoughts into one idea.

I know a certain magazine that has no idea what a good writer you are and someday when you are famous for your writing, those publishers will get on someone’s ass for not publishing you when you were still fresh and unknown.

It is a wonderful piece!

Fruit Taster said...

Wow... There is not much I can say that cjn already did. This was an amazing read. I mean, the writing is one thing, but to think you're feeling all this, it's powerful.

Thank you for sharing.