PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

sreaming infidelity my reality

Saturday, Jun. 08, 2002
So it’s 12:53 a.m. and he says he was going to go see Spiderman all by himself. The movie ended a half hour ago. The theater is 10 minutes from the house. And it’s dark, and late and “Bucky” is sleeping on the floor in the sunroom.

I am having that inner panic that only prior infidelities can cause.

I was half asleep on the couch fighting a sinus headache when he upped and said he was going to the movies. I don’t get the sudden urge to go out to a movie and he’s said jack nothing to me about desperately wanting to see Spiderman ever, so since I suddenly because violently awake, there’s a pit in my stomach a thousand miles big and I’m doubting the entire thing.

My cell phone is ringing…

He’s on his way home and I should feel better. But I don’t. That pit didn’t go away just because he resurfaces after 2 ½ hours. I mean, when someone cheats, it’s so long lasting. I keep seeing all of these books for repairing your marriage and thinking about long conversations I had with Bernie the Therapist about the future. Maybe he was right.

Husband is talking jovially over the phone to me and I am still remembering that panic feeling. He says he went to a different movie theater farther away because the closest one was too crowded. If that is even true, I am glad I didn’t jump in my car to go find him at the other one. I would have been standing there feeling really pissy then.

One night a long time ago now, just came back to my mind. He said he was going to Walmart. I went to Walmart just to check on him since “Bucky” was in PA with his grandparents. I went…he was nowhere. I ransacked his truck….see this was last December when he still had the truck…prior to pussy car. While ransacking he came out carrying Tide and a bag from the store next to Walmart. He said, “what are you doing?”

I said something lame like “losing my mind” and I started to cry.

And so now he’s on his way home and I don’t know if I want to get naked and fuck him violently until I don’t feel this pain or if I want to gouge his eyes out for causing it. I never can make up my mind.

It is these moments that make me want to seek solice in humans that haven’t ever hurt me. It is right now that I want to call someone up and say “hey…tell me I’m special, tell me anything…tell me something that will save me from myself”

Part of me knows I should just address this with him…the other part knows that when I do it feels like someone is ripping my skin right off…. It just bleeds far worse.

He’s home saying “that was a good movie…”

Ahhh he has a ticket stub… Infidelity is a long term disease. Even when you think it’s in remission ….it haunts you. Makes you wonder. Wonder if it's under the flesh digging in your bones silently stalking you all the while you eat cotton candy and watch sitcoms...you are silently attacked. Is it there? I never thought it could happen before...is it there and I'm in denial?

And I just read Mad Prophet’s Diary and somewhere a smile creeps across my face. There’s always a messenger that manages to keep my spirits up.

Now he’s brushing his teeth in the bathroom after carrying “Bucky” down the hallway and to bed….and the panic is gone but in it’s place is that uncertainty. Oh shit..he just said “did I see something on the screen about fucking my brains out?" Said with an evil grin…..and a crest hug. Part of me wants to throw up so this pit in my stomach will go away, part of me wishes I could talk about poetry with Mad for hours til I find that peace that is me, and the other part wants to rip my shorts off and forget the whole mess in the bliss of a mind-blowing orgasm that I know he can provide….

For the last 2 hours I wanted to call Tim, but I am so afraid of those feelings….. God help me…please????

-PoeticaL
1:13 a.m. ::
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