Such a Silly Girl

I would love to be able to tell you that I, for the first time in a long time, have made a smart decision based on intellect rather than emotion.  It however cannot be said, for that would not be the truth, and this place is all about honesty for me.

Laying in his arms catching our breath, I cling to him.  Physically I crave being with him, emotionally, he is choking the life out of me.

My hand on his chest, it rises and falls as he cools down, taking in the stuffy air around us.  He is looking elsewhere into the dim room so I am afforded an opportunity to look at him for a moment without him getting weird about it.  He turns his head slowly and looks at me.  He closes his eyes and either pretends to sleep or is actually fighting sleep.  He is on something other than just booze, but I am unsure what.  It doesn't matter really.

It has been so clear to me but I really need to do something about it.

This man doesn't deserve me.

I don't deserve my husband.

It is all a twisted up mess. 

Either way, this man right here in my arms, despite his beautiful words, the words that keep drawing me to him time after time, this man, despite how his time and energy have awoken a long since comatose girl that I had forgotten existed, he doesn't deserve me.

To have me cherishing these few moments, seconds really, that I have before he tenses up and proceeds to make me feel worthless is more than he deserves.  He opens his eyes.  I hate what I see.

Five, Four, Three, Two, One.  Time is up.  Reality Check.

Moving on for real this time.  No deleting him to reduce temptation, no reaching out when I am sad, no more waiting for the version of him who cares about me to be there.  over.  I don't have time for this shit.   

The whole situation disgusts me.  It is the same pathetic story, over and over again.