Mom

Had a sad, graphic dream about my mom last night. No better, no worse than what happened in real life. But I suppose that’s the key: It made me relive what happened in real life, and I awoke in the midst of an “oh, fuck, what do I do?"dream.

Been thinking a lot lately about cheating on my husband. I wouldn’t choose to call it that. I would call it ‘exploring’ or ‘ experimenting’ or ‘seeking’ but, let’s be clear, it’s cheating.

He’s a good, kind man. He’d do anything I ask. He just physically can’t do things in bed. Not even talking about the obvious (although, yes, sometimes that, too, which weighs heavy on me and makes me doubt myself) but, mechanically, he is just not able to do what it takes for me.

Which, again, makes me doubt myself. Perhaps if I wanted less … was easier to please … was not so selfish …
L
Man. In a dark, depressed hole. It’s late. I am drunk. I want to continue being drunk. So sad. I have a kind husband who can’t my body hum. Don’t worry, I think the feeling my be mutual. I think he may be gay.

Really. A masculine gay, but still gay. He seems to fear some of his (wonderful) male friends. I fear he’s afraid. It would explain a lot.