Fuck him.

I forgot how mad I was for enduring 10 years of endless cheating. On a 21 year old virgin? Sick bitch. I have no pity for such a sick fuck. Who the fuck does that to a 21 year old virgin?

I suppressed that feeling of victimhood, the gone belief in love, or really, monogamous coupling we're told to adhere....but everyone cheats.

My lover, I think about jealousy. I feel it's wandering pangs when I imagine others. Then I remind myself: I am cheating. I have been cheated on. Monogamy doesn't actually exist. Or at least in my world. And I don't want it. I don't want to be beholden ever again to that form of ownership.

I still believe a bit about ownership. I want to be owned. But not by someone who is free.

Feelings are coming up I haven't permitted myself to enjoy. When you're with a sick fucker, you don't have time to be that stupid.

I don't owe anything to anyone ever again. But I certainly enjoy the moments of true affection, sex not limited by labels, roles, fatigue, and impotence. The ability to confess my objective ideas about his body, to receive completely sexual desire, then have that turn around to tenderness.

No more silly hateful tethers, like the kind I suffer with my stupid husband--who doesn't permit sexual enjoyment. Who can't take any direction in the bedroom, or any direction, period. Can't send cock shots without some feeble christian response about being unfeeling.

And I thought this whole time I lacked skill because I was fucking some numbed PTS whiner.

All of a sudden I'm an insanely hot fuck with the moves, the ability to be that whore you've always dreamed of but didn't think existed. And I'm not fucked up, on drugs, numbed, a sex addict, a victim of child molestation.

I am an artist who lives, breathes, experiences passion and shares it. I make sure baby gets love because he likes it. It's not some panacea for a general desperation, like my husband who believes I'm his higher power, but doesn't trust me whatsoever.

I shouldn't be expected to replace a person's emptiness.