Chapter 10: Aid

I'm only on my double bed for two minutes, but I already sense my thoughts become hazy as I drift off to sleep. An early night for me, very uncharacteristically, but I had a tiring day. I'll call that sponsor tomorrow, with me so worn-out, there's hardly a risk I will indulge in any activities, let alone sex. I want to ignore the door bell, but I realise it's maybe Sean coming back for something he forgot.

Kimber strolls in, in her usual persistent way, "feelings sorry for yourself, so I've heard."

"What are you doing here and who told you that?" I bark back at her.

"Sean did this afternoon. He told me you missed me."

"Huh? He hasn't told you no such thing."

"Well, not exactly. But he said I was your longest relationship."

"So?"

"So you need a hook to hang on to, somebody who truly loves you."

"You mean a hooker."

"I'm trying to help…"

"You wanna kill me and now you wanna help me? And I need help from a drug addict."

"Exactly. You need help from an ex drug addict."

"Bullshit. Like I believe that."

"Look, I know what you've done and I don't wanna loose you…"

"How would you loose me? You don't have me. Besides, why would you want me?" My miserable tone slips out from behind my cruel mask.

"I think you've had enough time to feel sorry for yourself. Now it's time for something else."

"Feeling sorry for myself? Is that what you think I have been doing? How can you accuse me of that when that was exactly what you have been doing?" I confront her again irately.

"Well, haven't you?" She lifts up her chin.

Kimber always gets me with her attitude, mostly because she can be so right. I don't know how she manages to guess everything eventually with her thick head. Must be the experience of being f…ed up. Like me. I'm angry with her, angry she doesn't let me sleep when I so much need it, angry she reminds me of some of the worst things I've done to a woman, but ultimately annoys me because she reminds me of how good somebody can still remain in the midst of all the shit that happens with us. I'll really never understand what she wants from me. Yeah, we are similar at some level, but she deserves better. God, she's hot in that white number. White always suited her, making her sexy. I could jump at her right now and I'm furious because of that too. I grab her arm and violently push her against the wall, "don't pretend you know everything sweetheart. It's so fucking easy for you, being able to talk about every little stupid thing that pops into your head. It's not as easy to let mince blubber out of the mouth for other people."

"Then start trusting someone, for once in your life. Not everybody is out to use you and throw you away the way you do with them. I never really returned the favour, not the way I should have…"

"I know," my hold on her loosens, "that doesn't mean I have to talk about things I don't want to talk about. Get out. Now," I let go of her completely, and step back, leaving her room to walk towards the door.

"Or else what? You threaten to kill yourself?"

"Don't you get in in your dippy head? I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to see you. I don't want anything to do with you."

"Yeah, right," she snatches the metal buttons on the front of her dress open and it falls to the ground. She doesn't wear anything under, as usual.

"We played that game before," I step back and want to run away. Exactly what I needed. A test. She got me with that trick before, more than once. She knows how powerful my craving her is. It's almost as strong as love, yeah, maybe, could call it a form of love. She doesn't move, waiting for me to react in some way and as I can't move myself, she knows she got me. I stare at her body, studying every area and aspect of her face and body in detail at the faint light of the streetlamp that illumines my room. She is my own masterwork, it is one of the reasons why I'm so drawn to it. There are some changes in the curviness of her thighs and hips, natural changes making her look like mother earth. That ultimate sex object that has the illusion of possessing the characteristics necessary for successful reproduction, according to Darwin, but who cares. I'm breathing deeply and I'm hot, starting to feel light headed with hunger and I reach out a hand to touch her face. I waver, but my anger gets the better of me and I grab her once more and push her against the wall again, "Go away!"

She smiles, "why would I go? You just proved me you want me."

She leaves me no other choice than to literally yank her towards the exit. I can do it. I'm stronger than she is. I throw her clothes after her and when I shot the door I realise that I have won. I have won a battle with myself over lust. I did! Somehow, I don't feel happy about it. Maybe because I'm depressed and I don't feel cheerful about anything. Maybe because winning had a price. It meant I had to play the disgusting Christian I don't like and at the end of it I am the way I was, alone. This is the old pattern, handled differently, nothing else. My soul is slowly ripping inside of me as I realise this. My mind is a craze. My tears are falling. My heart is twisting and it hurts. I make no progress. Is there a pattern here? Obviously. For a good reason? Probably. Is there a way for me to confront this issue? Probably. Maybe I was wrong all along. I am acting much like a damsel in distress and waiting for an somebody else to come, and love me enough to solve my problem. That, instead of standing up for myself and finding an answer. I was able to achieve everything by myself from a young age, why is it I can't do this? The only problem is that there are dark places inside of me that terrify me. Nobody knows how damaged I really am. No one does because I'm trying so hard to forget it myself. But I can't forget it. I know I don't want to, but I have to deal with my childhood, I have to talk to the therapist about it. And I know I have to call the sponsor to help me change my responses to sexual stimuli. And I have to take all the help that I can get from Sean. And when I'm ready, when at least part of me is healed and I'm not doing it for the wrong reasons, I'll go find Kimber. I can see Kimber is the one for me. I humiliated her so many times, but she's still coming back to me. Fact is that I love her. I love her because she loves me. That was the clearest my head has been for month. I shouldn't go getting lost now. I take a writing pad and I put pen to paper to compose my own personal steps for happiness, the ones I just thought of, the way they do it at the sexual addiction meetings, but in a more personalised way. As I regard my scribbles, I start to feel elated. It will probably be hard to complete these steps, but I'm not lost anymore!

Tbc