Friday, Nov. 11, 2022 - 10:30 p.m.

Hormones are a realllll muthafucka.

Oxytocin is the absolute worst of them all. I'd wager it's worse than heroin.

It comes with a craving that cannot be quenched by anything else but itself. Nothing else suffices. Nothing else feels like what oxytocin feels like. There is no rest until it is acquired.

The combination of ovulation pheromones and the MERE MEMORY of oxytocin has made a WHOLE GOTDAMN FOOL out of me several times. This entry is me working through understanding why I cannot be the fool again this time. No can do.

Even faced with what I have going on, my body is working with my mind to try and convince me that I need a fix. That I need a fucking fix. That I can make a call and get the fix I crave this very night. Tonight. With the snap of a finger. And I know this to be true.

But true ain't necessarily right. Or healthy. Or safe. Or sane.

That part: or sane.

I feel insane. (Thank God for this space to get these thoughts out. I don't feel like I can talk to anybody about this just yet.) I feel crazy for still having a strong desire to lay with that man.

My mind thinks about how easy it would be to call him and recalls some of the physical satisfaction that could come with that call. My mind sends signals to my body that make me actually feel him moving around my body. It's like in the movies when the ghost/energy is swirling around the person, trying to find a way inside them or a way to take their soul.

Like that.

I turn the signals off as quickly as I can because if I get too deep into those feelings, I'ma be in real big trouble *in my Wyclef, someone please call 911 voice*.

Last time we fucked, he kissed all the way up my back until he was kissing and licking into my damn hairline at the base of my neck. The last position he folded me into was one in which all I could do was go limp and surrender to what was being done to me. These are the thoughts trying to flood my mind and overwrite the things that I know about this man. Things that drove me away from him and have to keep me away from him.

My gut tells me I will never see him again. I think of him like a serpent; a devil or one of the devil's minions. He slithered out of his hole to accomplish his task. Now he's slithered back in until the next task is assigned, so our paths won't cross anymore. He may not even know the job he has. It's just the way things are.

It's weird this time around, craving the physical versus craving the person themselves. I don't care about him at all. I'd just want the physical activity. It's like he could be nameless, faceless, soulless (*sigh*) and that's fine.

*11/11/22*
Ok, so I wrote the above over the past 2 days. Couldn't get a chance to finish. It's unbelievably unreal how once those hormones have processed through my system, my feelings completely change. Biologically, being a woman is NOT easy. Whew.

Anywhoo. I no longer have the crazy urge to reach out to that man. Those feelings have thankfully passed. Hopefully next month doesn't stir me up all over again. Please!

Interestingly, several days ago my mom was watching this show on n-flix about stalkers. I was watching, being grateful that man is not a stalker. Because he sure knows where I live and has reason to be in the area often. In my head, he is lingering outside my house late at night, trying to peek into my bedroom windows. But my good sense (that was missing all that time, but I digress) tells me he don't even think my way. Either he's on to the next assignment or back to living his life in the shadows.

Like I said, I'm confident our paths will never cross again. I will just carry his dna in my body for the rest of my life. That's all, no biggie. He was a lesson I had to learn.

*sigh*

On another note, life is again quieting down for me. I'm just going to enjoy the quiet days I get and the rest will be what they are and will be alright.

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