I was thinking. Always me with the thinking.
September 13, 2018 Journal Entry
I was thinking. Always me with the thinking. Thinking about picking Jeff. And how I keep picking Jeff. Then I was thinking what if I changed? What if I was open to relationships with men that are emotionally available?
And I was struck with panic.
I think the reason for the panic is because I don’t know how to be different than I am now. And that’s terrifying. Because it means that it’s ME that’s making this choice. It’s not that there are no good men left. They’re not all married or gay. I’m deliberately choosing emotionally unavailable men. At an obvious detriment to my emotional wellbeing.
But I like how I am now. I don’t really want to change. Why? Being with a married man is always exciting and new and wrong and that’s fun. The sex is never routine. It’s fresh and experimental. It can be really nasty. Sex happens on stolen time. That’s thrilling.
Is there a payback “fuck you” aspect for his wife? As in you married him, but I own his body for an hour a week? Or maybe I never found the right guy but you did, and that’s not fair, so I’m going to fuck with your relationship? Or is it I don’t think I deserve to have something that’s mine? And if I did have my own man, he’d just cheat. So why not stick with this? This way at least he’s not cheating on me, he’s cheating on her.
There’s a bit of truth in all of this. So then. What is the root? Where did the choice for this path originate? I think this is the belief: My Dad made me his surrogate wife. I didn’t like being his wife. It was a nightmare. Therefore, being a wife is a nightmare. So I need to make damn sure I never put myself in a relationship where there’s a possibility I might become a wife.