It's stupid but I know I push harder when there are boys there that trip my switch and tonight there were three. I hate it though - you come back home and the adrenelin is coarsing through your veins at the speed of the raging white water rapids - and all my blood is racing away from my brain and thumping up and down some place else.
So I sit here thinking maybe I should do a stags leap over to a local watering hole. Throw on some jeans and a tight T while the muscles still feel all pumped - feel that thrill of eye-contact, the first sip of a cold beer trickling down my throat, possibility of a little back seat action.
Maybe I should throw on some shorts and a tank top - not even shower and hit the bookstore - listen to a crisp dollar pulled in to the machine - whirrrrr - watch a dirty movie and feel my heart racing waiting for something to happen - an anonymous encounter - a furious fuck and suck session - shoot my load in his face and don't even bother to ask his name.
Maybe I should call the Ex - whisper about loneliness - hint about horniness - what ?? am I naked ? yeah - just step out of the shower -why - pause - what are you doing - he could come racing over, eager, hungry to taste me to be at home with me inside him - passion erupting, friction and fire each of us pounding our anger, our sadness, our emptiness away.
Or maybe I'll play with the dog and write out some bills and jack-off again and watch the Daily Show - then crawl into the bed - without him, without whoever I used to be, without the skin I've grown so comfortable wearing all this time. Will the sheets seem smoother or will I wake up shivering in the middle of the night, confused from a terrible nightmare about a life gone wrong ?