06-17-02 - 7:30 p.m.
it's two years now, my love affair with this man, and after all this time it's still a struggle, a daily battle of conscience and need, of guilt and jealousy, of desire and regret.
enjoy the pain, he says. study the anguish. analyze it. feeling bad is better than not feeling at all.
i dutifully study my anguish, and learn that despite the ring on my finger, the validation and comfort and fulfillment of our time together, it's fucking hard to live by the articles of adultery. one moment i handle the indiscretions with cool detachment; the perfect mistress. an hour later i am needy and lonely and ready for distraction from this wonderful, terrible, bittersweet love. other men ask me out; i refuse. i'd rather sit in the bathtub and drink and study my anguish than waste time with somone who isn't him. on this unfinished, uncertain path with my soulmate, i have become a jerry springer cliche.
there. i've enjoyed the pain.