That feeling when you just know you're a sex addict, when you just think "what the fuck am I doing?" you know? Well, I hope you don't know. Yeah, I just fucked... my stalker.
Although the good news is: he's probably not a creep. I got very clear asperger/autism vibes from him when I saw him in person. He's really just that socially awkward and really doesn't actually understand personal space and limits. His explanation to having acted stalker-ish? That he was just horny. He's like that... I dunno, imagine an awkward teen nerd who lives in his mother's basement, then moves out and starts driving tractors for a living, and then finds a hookup site... yeah. Totally harmless, but just very very awkward. It was weird to have such a guy for a bed-mate. Just gotta say that. It was an experience.
He was very sweet, in person. Adorkable, kinda. Really not a hottie, and talked way too much, but yeah he totally fucked me good, and I even came. I came really hard, like I spasmed uncontrollably for probably half a minute while he fucked me and it felt extremely good. He was very patient with me and caring. He stayed for 3 hours, and didn't complain about me taking cigarette breaks. I got my orgasm about half an hour before he left at 1 am. He came twice, inside me, an hour or so apart. I'll likely get some pregnancy tests in a while just to be sure, but right now I don't worry about it. It's unlikely I'd get knocked up.
But just whyyyy did I do this?! When I wrote him the text the evening before this current night, stating "Fuck you're nagging. Come to my place then and you can get some pussy" I couldn't figure out why I went along with it. If it was just to get him to stop nagging with all his million text messages, or cause I thought here's a guy who very desperately wants me and he's very available, so why not just take the opportunity. Yes, he texted me again. And again. And againagainagainagaaaaaain! I dunno how much, but around 20 or so texts per day since a couple of days ago. I ignored him until I caved in. Now how the fuck am I supposed to get rid of him?! This probably made it a million times worse, cause now he thinks I want to continue seeing him.
I didn't know I was this much of a mess... that I'd actually fuck a guy who's stalking me and driving me fucking crazy with a million messages. Like what kind of level is this to stoop down to?! Fucking hell, what's wrong with me?! I should probably lay off of qruiser for a while, but I know I'm not going to. My list of everyone I've had sex with (yes I write them all down in a document) is starting to look ridiculous. This has been a crazy year. The last 3 of them I don't know the names of, so I had to write either their online profile names or just a short description of them. I've fucked 5 different guys this year alone. In total we're now up at 19 guys, and of course keep counting. Makes me think of a song by Cher in which she sings "your list of lovers is looking like a resume"... I'm starting to wonder if my neighbours think I'm a prostitute, considering they must have noticed I get random, often quite trashy-looking, middle aged male strangers coming for short visits every now and then, and often at night. Well it must seem suspicious if they've noticed it.
But let's get back on topic. This fucking sex addiction... making me do stuff that no one in their bloody right mind would do... and then my conscience hits me. That this is not right and where might it eventually lead to? I could fuck literally anyone. There's danger in that, that I don't want to think about. And then suddenly it hits me... that is literally why I could fuck anyone... because I'm a sex addict: it makes me not care about who it is or what they look like or what they are like or anything, because all I care about is that pleasure. And filling both my figurative and literal void.
In a comic magazine that I subscribe to, the actually physical paper kind of comic magazine, I found one strip that spoke to me so clearly on this very topic. It was a conversation between two women who are friends, where one says to the other that she keeps meeting some sketchy guy and can't figure out why she keeps meeting him. And then she says "I guess he fills a void" and her friend giggles cause of the underlying meaning that the guy fills the void in her pussy. And she says, embarrassed by her friend's giggling "No, but I meant..." I should get some magnets so that I can put it up on my fridge. I've cut it out from the magazine already and it's been lying on my microwave for a few weeks now. I love it and it's perfect.
I feel sad now. Yes, it clearly seems my insatiable pussy is gonna be the end of me, one day. If I continue like this. Good I'm dealing with the trauma stuff in therapy now, and I'm sure I'll bring up my sex addiction at some point. Just trying to find a good point to sneak it into the conversation, somewhere it fits. We continued with my timeline yesterday, and got up until the point of around age 15 in my life. Before we got into that though, I did actually tell her about this stalker guy, and fucking hell... I told her I'd keep pushing him away and stand my ground... and then not even 10 hours later I have him in my bed, fucking each other like crazy. My life is the butt of a joke. I honestly don't know if I should laugh or cry about this. My emotions are so confused. My thoughts are too. I don't know why I did it. This could have gone very wrong, and it still can. He might get obsessed with me, for real, now after this. And by the way, I didn't give him my adress, he already had that information as well, cause I asked him if he needed my adress or already had it.
I've no idea where he could be taking this moment of affection now, if he'll become a stalker for real. It scares me now. He might really just be too dumb to know he's crossing the line and I might just be too dumb to get a grip on myself to tell him that clearly, without hesitating and wavering shyly. But it's just that. I think both my stupidity and his stupidity could do some real harm between us. Well that's exactly why I don't ever again want to actually date other people who have the same kind of mental disabilities as I do. It's a huge misunderstanding and clash waiting to happen, cause it creates a huge breach in communication. Sure, this is not a relationship as such, but he might start thinking it is, and that's what I worry about.
Well I got myself into this mess, didn't I?
And I was the one to fuck this mess, wasn't I?
Oh dear lord, what the fuck am I doing...
Yeah I'm not being self-destructive at all, am I? The thing about that though is that I simply don't know when I'm self-harming or not. It has become part of the essence of me, an integral part of my persona, and it is in fact inseparable from the rest of me. So I can't tell it apart from the rest.
This low feels so damn far down that I'm not even trying to climb up from it. I'm just sitting here, staring upwards, shaking my head in disbelief and thinking "now how the fuck am I supposed to get back up from here?!"
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