As I walked away from the bar that night, fragments of memories flashed thru my mind. His tongue in my mouth and my hand running along the long scar on his chest. Tobacco-laced kisses on a broken hammock, laughter and him saying, “Oh god, I’m coming.” His grandfather’s ring on a chain around his neck hitting my chin as he thrust into me.
I walked away from these memories. Endeavoring to put them behind me, I realized I needed to find another form of escapism. The missing space in my life, this hole, wasn’t going to be filled by a man. Ok, physically, yes. But only temporarily.
What was missing had to be provided by me, for me, in order for me to be as healthy as possible. Something deep in my psyche demanded it.
After a sleepless night running all the various past scenarios in my head, concerned with men, drinking, my health, I finally awoke groggy but resolute. It had to change. I had to change. First things first. Get my house in order. ~sigh~ This is going to take awhile.