- By girly-d
- On 25/12/2017
- 0 comments
So he's coming to see me. This amazing "blast from the past" super-cool person of mine.
Because it's going to be amazing.
Me and him. A hotel room somewhere. And an absolute whale of a time guaranteed. All arranged lastminute.com which is always how we roll...
A "Hey _____ I've been thinking. I've missed your face. And I'd really love to come see you again ...are you gonna be free between ____ and _____? (Him)
(Me) "What's there to even think about? Do it. Come see me. Get in the car and get down here...will be amazing. So yes. I'll make sure that I'm free...'cos I've missed your face too..." kind of conversation.
And so he's coming. To see me. In two weeks. I'm turning cartwheels.
Fuck...I'm turning cartwheels.
I need to do a risk assesment...
Because anything that triggers strong emotion in me these days, both good and bad, is a potential pitfall. Especially when our encounters generally go something like this...Champagne toasts. Class A's. Bed. Repeat as many times as necessary in the time that we have together.
We do other stuff too obviously...we talk, we laugh, we go out for meals. I'll thrash him at pool. Normal, regular stuff...but our time together is always hedonistic. And I need to be supercareful of that.
Because already, in my head I am tasting that Champagne...and I'm taking full advantage of the Class A situation...which is a bit scary. Because although I have been sober for over a year, deep down I am a hedonist. I've always been one...and it's been ages since I've had even the tiniest bit of hedonistic pleasure. All of my senses and internal triggers are going crazy just thinking about it all.
Because it's times like these that I miss myself.
When I don't want to be in recovery having nailed an addiction - I want to be the woman that I've always been when I'm around him. The sexy, crazy, carefree nymph...lounging at the hotel bar in my playsuit and heels...all eyes on me as I wait for him to arrive...knowing exactly what's waiting for me when it's just us alone upstairs...
And now my inner fox is excited...because shes been in hibernation for ages and she really loves lounging around in hotel bars looking sexy as fuck.
So I could be in big trouble here.
Shit fuck and bollocks.
I really, really really, do not want to be thinking this shit. I want to say fuck it and have a few days of sheer and utter hedonism. I want to be writing yet another hilarious review with him and posting it on Trip Advisor...something like "Hotel stunning. Bed unfortunately couldn't cope with requirements. Would be grateful for a more robust model upon our return"...(yes we did do this...and yes it got published)
But it won't be just a few days.
Because a hedonist wants it all. Everything. The whole shebang. The sex, the drugs and the rock and roll.
Which is exactly what landed me in rehab.
Can't play this game.
Because my super-cool amazing person doesn't have an addiction. That pleasure is all mine. And if I go down that road again even just a little bit, I know I won't stop after four days.
Which means that I'm going to have to cancel....