that’s so ridiculous! i can’t even wrap my brain around the idea. and why me the worst? because i don’t beat around the bush? because i say what i mean? because i want what i want?
truth be told, i’m a pathetic OW. i couldn’t even seal the deal. couldn’t TAKE what i so desparately wanted. couldn’t “even the score.”
and why? NOT becuase i didn’t want Mister, Mister enough… but because I thought more of someone else than i did of myself/my needs.
if sacrificing MY NEEDS, for the good of someone else, makes me the WORST OW ever… than GUILTY AS CHARGED.
(but, hey, you’d at least think i’d have gotten some really hot, hot sex out of the deal… )
I’ve been on a Mister, Mister diet. You know, fasting. Attempting NOT to think about you. ever. I’m doing pretty well. Even managed to stay away from the Jazz & Rib Fest this past weekend. Didn’t want to chance running into you and the Mrs…
And you know what? I’m actually doing better. feelin’ lighter. as if I’ve lost 180# that i didn’t really need afterall…
I’m getting a new washing machine delivered tomorrow. Old machine crapped out. Was leaving some weird oil-like spots haphazardly all over what was supposed to be my clean clothes. Nasty stuff. And, wouldn’t you know, it always managed to show up on my favorite whites… always.
Wish me luck in washing out all of my “trouble spots.” And I do mean ALL of my trouble spots!
I’m losing it. no, really. I’m unhappy with the things that I should be happy with– and sad about the things that I should be grateful for. Pretty f*cked in the head, right?
I heard Sheryl Crow’s song on the car radio– the one about the secret to life being “not getting what you want, but wanting what you have.” I swear, I almost had to pull over to the side of the road and puke.
Maybe I’m just sick of life. I don’t really feel depressed, per se. But today, on my way home from work, I was a little spooked. I was driving a little fast (like 85mph FAST) while approaching a concrete divider that veers sharply to the left. Instinctively, I braked. At the same time, for a split second, I found myself wondering what it would be like to just hit the wall– FULL SPEED. To just be done with “things.” Honestly, that thought scared the living shit out of me– as in, where the hell did that thought come from?… and why?
It’s not a secret that I’ve never fully recovered from my husband’s infidelity. And, I’d be lying if I didn’t fully admit to wanting to “mess around” with an old boyfriend I crossed paths with last spring. You see, somewhere, in my screwed up head, I’d convinced myself that I had a “license to cheat.” And damn, if I didn’t try hard to use that “free pass” on Mister, Mister.
Then, last August, when things started to heat-up between us, I put the brakes on. Firmly. Told Mister, Mister some bullshit excuse about how much my husband loved me, and would do anything in the world for me. And I’m still not certain, to this day, WHY I stopped myself.
Well, ok, that’s not entirely true. What stopped me, most certainly, was the promise I had made to myself to NEVER hurt another female the way I’d been hurt. In other words, I didn’t want Mister, Mister’s wife to ever feel about her husband the way I feel about mine. I never wanted to be that woman who made her question her whole existence/world. That woman that made her sob herself to sleep at night. That woman that made her question her seemingly wonderful husband’s character till the day she died. That woman who made her think about crashing her car into a concrete highway block– on some random, f*cking hot day in early June– because her head was so messed up…
Yeah, that woman.
And yet, knowing all that– and having the clarity to write it all down– I still want her husband.
Ok, so I lied. I didn’t actually delete all your e-mails. I kept one. The very last one…
Today, while re-reading it, I got to thinkin’: if I was able to inspire you to be good, maybe– just maybe– I could inspire you to be bad. ‘Cause who knows… maybe a little badness is just what you need.
Besides, you know what they say about goodness:
“Goodness is its own reward… for more tangible outcomes, you need to try badness.”
And you know, it’s not just me that has options. We could, after all, both opt to be bad. C’mon, it’ll be so good… and tangible.
i dreamed of you. very early this morning. in my dream, it was summertime. back when we were seventeen. I phoned you. at home. your mom answered the phone. said you were at football practice. i asked her to tell you that Elle had called. she said she would… (and then i woke up).
i always wake up before you call… (just like real life).
1 Comment | 
Mister, Mister, about me, hate, life, love, relationships | Tagged: cheating, guilty, guilty as charged, hot sex, infidelity, Mister, Mister, other woman, OW, slut sandbox, TOW, worst other woman | 
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Posted by Contessa Confessa
