A trotting C Lydian, and dressed in mauve tones - accented in a blue twilight forest of sticks and stones - caught in the path of the predicted ISON - for the God of Aaron and Moses.
As much as I think it is inappropriate for me to talk about such thing in a public place, it seems that I'm caught in my addictions worse than ever.
Over the last weekend, I settled (somewhat) some things with a lady friend of mine with who I was courting month prior to nameless; and myself became emotionally and physically involved. I basically left her hanging in the wind with what was to become of she and I. During that time nameless; and I became sexually involved, and I couldn't muster up enough courage to tell her what was going on. Basically I lied to her, and I found myself caught up in a love triangle that would mangle the majority of sanity.
Promiscuous is the word that would describe this. There have been seven people since nameless; died. My sexual addiction has left me powerless in my loss of my friend and lover. Sexually frustrated is a word that could fit well, but I believe it's something more sinister than just that. To say that I'm sexually frustrated seems like a cop out in my book. It would be easier if I could just rub one out, and that would be the end of it; however the hunger is deeper than self pleasure.
It's demonic in nature. I can't stop thinking about who I could coheres in to "coming over". I've even reached out to people with whom the extent of our conversation have never breached a "hello" or a like on Facebook.
Perhaps there was a freeing subconsciously, as if to settle with my lady friend would be the release I needed to become a complete whore in the matter of days.
Whatever it is something has got to give in all of this. There has to be a bottom, and I would choose not to fall crashing into it. With all that said; however, I believe that there is a hope and a reprieve. Something has to give, and that's what I'm waiting on. November seems like it has always been historically difficult for me mentally and emotionally. November was whenever me and nameless; became sexual last year. November is when I'm starting to see how much I've been affected by the blow that went through the neck of my forbidden lover.
I wish that he was here still. Not because I miss him, but because he filled the void for me. Last year I had a conversation with him about how I thought I was "falling apart". What I really meant was that I wanted him so bad that I was willing to do whatever it took: spells, love songs, or food. He stood in between me and all the other potential sexual partners I could have had over the course of 2012 and early 2013 before his death.
Somehow I feel like he protected me from that--he protected me from myself, and the destruction that I bring upon my body. That in itself is a heavy load for any one man to carry.
