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Bad Girl - 18 January 2004 . 14:40 Hello. My name is NCRebel21 and I’m an ex-smoker. Thank you, thank you. I officially kicked the habit this Wednesday past. Except for a light headache that insisted on recurring sporadically, the withdrawal phase was going well. Until I returned to work Friday night. I never realized how I divided my work into little two-to-three hour segments to be followed by the once highly anticipated cigarette break. I went about my normal routine Friday evening at work and, once I reached that two and a half hour mark and a lull appeared in my activity, I got up and put on my coat. I was out of the office and into the outer hallway before I realized what I was doing. Hello, stupid, where were you going? There have been moments in the past few days that I have desperately wanted a cigarette. I even allowed the lack of nicotine in my blood stream to overpower my sensibilities and it conveyed to me that I needed a cigarette. It was like I was possessed, harassing all those smokers around me until I found one willing to give me a cigarette. Luckily I kept my smoke-free status as my good sense took over at the last moment. A delayed reaction, yes, but a reaction nonetheless. And now onto the segment in which you boo me for having absolutely no moral fiber except that which is corroded and shredded beyond all recognition. (Also known as the “what’s new” segment of our program.) I shall air out everything here and now, once and for all. Yessir, just lay it all out here for the entire diary perusing public to witness. I was “seeing” a guy from work who, for purposes of this journal, I call Wild Man. Things were hot and cold between us but I liked him so I continued to be available anytime he wanted to hang out. Translation: I did nothing, went nowhere in hopes he would call/drop by. Eventually that started to get old so I decided just to back off for a while and let him figure out what he really wants. A few days later, I’m at work and an acquaintance comes in on business. Yada yada yada he ends up hanging around a little longer than he really needed to and I walked him out of the office so we could continue our conversation. He gave me his cell phone number at the end of our little flirting session and told me to give him a call if I wanted to talk to him more. Situation good, right? That’s when he told me he’s married. In that nonchalant, by-the-way mode of operation he said, “I’m married.” Right then I was like, ugh, I can’t call him, I can’t talk to him and I can’t flirt with him anymore because he’s married. What a dog for giving me his cell number and trying to hook up with me when he’s got a wife at home. Fast forward a few days. I was feeling particularly low and for some reason I came across his cell number while sitting home. After debating internally whether to call him or not, I picked up my cell and dialed his number. Four hours later we ended our conversation. Fast forward a few more days. I didn’t call him back but thanks to Caller ID on cell phones he had my cell number and called me one evening. I kept telling myself I couldn’t talk to him because he’s married but the conversation was so good and so engaging that I just couldn’t not talk to him. So many common interests we share, from music to hobbies to life beliefs... Fast forward yet a few more days which turn into a couple of weeks and then into a month and before I realize it I’m “the other woman.” He drives a truck and I’ve already been on two trips with him, one to VA and the other to SC. I can’t believe it. I’m the other woman. I like him a great deal. Not reading too much here, I’m not looking for some permanent deal. Not that I’d likely turn it away if it presented itself but that’s not what I’m looking for now. In fact, I hardly know what I am looking for right now. All I know is we enjoy each other’s company, make each other laugh and share good quality time together. And there are times when I’m listening to him or I’m looking at him and these waves of guilt and pain just wash over me and I think about what a scumbag I am for “dating” another woman’s husband. I think of how I felt when it happened to me and I scold myself for being such a degenerate. And just when I’m at the verge of tears and ready to tell him I can’t talk to him anymore he says something or looks at me some way and it all just washes away. I’m an emotional train wreck. I’ve never been so deliriously happy, terribly guilty, disgusted with myself, and completely confused all at the same time. I have no idea what will transpire but whatever recourse comes my way I’m sure I’ve earned every bit of it. My sister has pointed out to me that whatever someone will do with you they will do to you. I find myself wondering how my younger sister became such a sage, how she completely surpassed me in knowledge of these life matters. I know every word she spoke is the absolute and undiluted truth. In fact, there’s a darn good chance I’ll end up hurt and alone at the end of this little tryst but ... ...it doesn’t matter.
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