Today's writing

Oh shit. I really need to get out of here. Being in the middle has never been my bag, though sexually it was slightly hot, I can’t lie. There really was something about him having me from behind while I was going down on her. I’d seen it in movies, but never quite experienced it as I did with them here on this needs-to-be-replaced floor.

 

Baby, it’s a wild world. Cat Stevens only knew the half of it.

 

Still, I feel like I need to fly. This whole experience felt jagged, partway, unfinished, and I’m not looking to put it to rest. I have this weird need to find Andy, to sit him down and explain who and what and why and how I’m feeling about it, to have him hold me, to rub my feet, to help me make sense of it all. It may not occur to me until later, if at all, how selfish that impulse is, how Andy may be angry at me for stepping out on him or worse, that he might have concerns of his own and that they might not have anything to do with me. Sometimes it’s the absolute worst when something isn’t about you at all, like you’re pressing your nose against the cold glass of the situation, trying to make sense of it and utterly failing in the endeavor, alone in the task, shivering and regretful. When you realize life isn’t all about you, far from it. When you understand that you’re not in the middle after all, that you are not the nexus, that intersection of everything. When you understand that you are lingering and lonely, just like everyone else.