So Paul and I have hit it off, and made plans for a date. OMG, awesome! Scary, but awesome!
All week I’m trying to balance between not coming off as desperate as I feel, while still showing enough interest. The conversation turns wildly inappropriate at some point, mostly at my prompting. Hey, this geek can dirty talk (and so could he)!
And then I saw my Therapist on Wednesday.
My therapist, Sid*, is a fucking boss. I both love and hate him for this. Transference, anyone? I really wish he weren’t hot. Fortunately, if my brain starts to wander that road, it just feels ICKY. That, and I usually come out of sessions feeling pretty awful. I know it’s good for me, but it’s pretty rough. So that puts a damper on any inappropriate thoughts there, thank HP! Sorry, tangent!
I usually look forward to my therapy sessions. All day Wednesday I’m kind of dreading it, because I know I need to tell Sid what’s going on. Well, I really want to NOT tell him what’s going on, which I know is exactly the reason I need to tell him. I hid my gambling from my first therapist.
He told me what I needed to hear. Immediately after, I was still spinning it in such a way that would let me do what I wanted (have sex). He says I need to accept myself more, and own my decisions/choices. So, I can do something I know is a bad idea, as long as I accept that, and own the choice!
Well, yes, that’s all true. I can knowingly do something that is bad for me.
By Thursday morning I’d processed it more, and I realize that, no, I can’t actually go through with something like that. I know that I can’t in good conscience have sex with Paul. I’ve been incredibly open and honest with him so far, (while at a conference on HOW–Honesty, Open-mindedness and Willingness!) so I need to tell him the whole truth. That sex would be an addictive behavior for me, and I’d be trying to distract myself from the things I find unpleasant–such as the grief over getting a divorce.
I could have canceled our date. But I didn’t want to! So I set an alarm on my phone to go off 2 hours in, so that I make sure I tell him the truth. (I turned the alarm off about half an hour before it was set to ring… *sigh*) I also make the opening screen on my phone a blatant reminder I can’t ignore.
We go to dinner. My stomach is in knots. I really like this guy, and I know what I *need* to do, but am I going to have the strength to do it? I wanted to tell him at dinner… but then he probably wouldn’t come over afterward!
So we watched TV and drank hard cider–a show I was almost certain he’d like, but hadn’t yet watched. He’s being adorably awkward and flirty, and I’m a bundle of nerves. I know he wants to kiss me. I want to let him. But I’m so torn about what I know I need to tell him, I’m a little stand-offish, and not making it easy on the poor guy.
I have to pee. Really bad. But I know he’s about to kiss me.
So we finally make out a little. Which was fun! But in hindsight, I’m kinda glad I had to pee, because I was really enjoying it. 😛
I stop him, and run to the bathroom. Where I curse my conscience, and muster all the “do the next right thing”ness I can. He can tell something’s bothering me when I come back, and he asks if he should leave. I stumble over my words (the cider didn’t help!) and finally get out what I need to say.
He’s super nice, and understanding. He says he’s glad I told him, he wouldn’t want to do something if I think I would regret it later.
So that was effectively the end of our date. We talked a bit more, and watch a little more TV while he waited for a cab.
We hug, he leaves, and I wallow and drown my sorrows over the missed opportunity for sex. Drinking that much was a bad decision, and I knew it, but of the bad decisions I could’ve made that night, it was the lesser of two evils.
Looking back, I think I was the most “myself” I’ve ever been on a date. Recovery has probably made me even more honest. I already considered myself a brutally honest person. Now it’s probably more honest, less brutal. Or maybe I didn’t have to try so hard, because I knew how I needed to end the date. Anywho.
So i guess I have that to take away. Improvement, maybe?
The other thing I’ve learned… maybe I need to not look for a job on the same site my husband used to look for sex.
Oh, and I finally went to another SLAA meeting today. I’d been to two, but was really resisting a third. Because I really didn’t want to give up those negative habits. *sigh* Gotta grow up sometime…