on jealousy.
I’ve gotten better in my old age, but I am a sexually jealous person. I like to possess and be possessed during sex, maybe even just during dating. One person told me that I possess people upon meeting them. But I love that moment during sex, the one where I look down and know that the other person is totally, irrevocably mine. At least for the time being.
It’s the same reason I like to submit sexually, and it’s the same reason I run when someone puts pressure on me: I judge myself constantly, harshly, and unforgivingly. Not only is that my nature, but I am in a profession that demands it. When I perceive someone else is doing it, too, I can’t cope.
If you tell me to get on my knees and suck your cock, I won’t worry that maybe you don’t want it, maybe I’m too pushy, maybe you’d rather I’d do something else. If you tell me exactly how, I won’t worry that I’m Not Doing It Right. If you tie me up and hold me down, I won’t worry where my hands should go, what I could be doing to make you feel better…and I’ll just enjoy being fucked senseless, thank you.
So when a former friend makes it a mission to systematically fuck every man who has ever shown an interest in me, that’s my trigger. I am angry, I am bruised, and I am wondering how I can ever measure up. To her, to anyone.
I’m not even sure she’s doing it on purpose, but doesn’t she get it? Let me have my moment, my former boyfriends, my dates. I have had so few. Let me have something that is purely mine, if not in reality, at least in memory. I want those thoughts to get out of my head.
