Too much of a good thing can be exhausting.
Too much of a bad thing?… Well that can be downright injurious.
I am strung out.
My state is so elevated that I am unable to be in control. I am desperately searching for a place to stash these new emotions. I refuse to swallow them.
I am rash and unpredictable now. Begging for someone to take away the inner turmoil.
Begging for thread to sew up the hole that’s been ripped in my head.
He has been desperately messaging me since rehearsal on Friday. Our normal tempo is 1x each day. Just a simple wave. Or a hearteyes emoji. Simple. Trivial. Just a “hey- I’m thinking about you” type of deal.
But he’s upped the ante.
It is 2:45 PM. He was supposed to be here by 2:30 PM.
I was glad that he chose a later time, because I had work to finish.
My boss is gone for the day and I am finally caught up. And yet, Mr. Exec is nowhere to be found. It’s unlike him to be late.
I debate over whether to send him a Skype. But I may have other available options should he not be able to make it. And I need a good fucking one way or another. My succubus meter is dangerously low.
For you it is so fucking easy.
You get to lay in bed next to your wife each night. Nefarious thoughts of me running through your mind.
I’m the dirty little secret you love to keep.
And for me it is often torture.
I dance the line between saying too much and not nearly enough.
I must keep your interest.
You are not a prize to be had.
I knew this about you before I ever began. I wanted your high. Your nothing. Your ruminations.
I wanted you to be like him… My Dark and Twisty.
Ms. Awesomely Dangerous has always been a personality I can slip into and then discard when I need to. There is me, slightly awkward lil ole me, and then there is Ms. Awesomely Dangerous.
She’s my favorite armor.
I need her to survive these affairs because they take so much out of me. I don’t want anyone to get too close to the warm squishy bits underneath.
But Mr. Exec is getting a healthy dose of the actual me. It’s become nearly impossible to utilize Ms. Awesomely Dangerous as a defense mechanism. I knew this was going to be an issue- given how I know him. But I didn’t expect it to be so incredibly taxing on my little brain.
I don’t get a break at all.
I have wasted so much of my time writing endings when I should have been focusing on the chapters. Now I’m focusing only one letter at a time. The endings will come and go as they see fit. I don’t need to jump ahead in the story to perfectly craft.
I’ve wasted so much time creating these beautiful characters. I’ve underlined their flaws. I’ve given them goals and obstacles. Now I’m just letting them experience on their own terms. Their experiences alone will make them who they are.
I am not invested. I’m merely the one who holds the pen. I’ve written myself in. But without direction. Without intelligent design. Oh what a strange and wonderful place to find yourself.
In a wonderland of your own creation.
But not too much.
But not too hard.
Just a touch.
But not by your own design.
Just as you are.
I had assumed that my dear Mr. Exec was no stranger to the land of affairs. He’s confident. In control. Very smooth. Delicious.
That sort of confidence doesn’t just randomly occur. It’s something you earn. After stumbling a few too many times. Or at least, that’s what I thought.
We are smoking after our little weekly meeting (I love that this is becoming routine!).
We are chatting about relationships and all their various intricacies.
We get on the topic of us.
“Well, I’m just hoping that however it goes- it doesn’t go sour. I wouldn’t like that. I like you in my life.” He says seriously. No Mr. Exec smirk with a chuckle. He means it.
I smile at him. “It won’t. I’m well suited for this type of thing. I will make sure it’s nothing but lovely.”
He smiles back. “Good. I just don’t know what to expect. I haven’t done this before.”
I take a literal step back and balk at him.
Oh, the way this man does what he does.
His hands on my body as though I’m a thing to be worshipped and treasured.
He kisses me passionately. One hand entangled in my hair, the other placed on my cheek.
“Softer,” he implores.
I gently lower my lips to his and we share a sweet, innocent thing of a kiss. The type of kiss you’d give to someone you love and value. Not your dirty mistress.
My mind starts to reel. And to think I almost canceled on him today.
Mrs. Exec: “Do you know where we are supposed to be in this scene?”
Me: “I think we enter from stage right and then stand in our little clump.”
Mrs. Exec: “Oh yeah! Thanks!”
Me: “No problem.”
Oh, and by the way. I’m fucking your delicious husband.