reason, this made me want him even more. Why do we do that to ourselves? He became a symbol to me, of every man I ever wanted but was unable to have. I tortured myself by letting myself be with him for months. Then one day, I realized I had become like Devon, loving someone who would never love me back. When I realized that, my lust finally faded. It was over for me. For him, it had never started.
Over the next few years, I was in many other lusty relationships. I came to dread that feeling of obsession, whether it was in me or for me. Maybe because I was an only child and I tend to be internal and I like being alone, relationships scared me, and I ran away from a lot of them, although as soon as one ended, I was looking for anotherone. I kept trying to fill a void in me that nobody seemed able to fill. It took me a long time to find that person who didnât push my panic button. That, too, is a story of lust.
I felt drawn to Ron from the beginning. He was hot. He was so hot, and my lust for him was so strong, that I questioned its validity. How could I have a relationship with a guy who made me feel like this? I didnât trust my lust. I thought I would do better and be more sensible with someone who was a friend first, who had a common background to mine, who was from a similar place, who had a similar kind of intellectual view of the world. That wasnât Ron. It freaked me out a little, how lusty we were together. This is how we met.
I had just decided to leave Law & Order, so I was doing a lot of talk shows about why I was leaving, what I would do next, things like that. Whenever someone starts or leaves a show, the media gets interested. A dear friend of mine named Lash Fary, who is everything his name suggests, was a customer of a well-known designer who owned a great menâs clothing store called Lords. It was a very rock-and-roll, chic, luxurious, high-end kind of store, and although it was a menâs store, my friend told me that the designer-owner of this store had some samples of womenâs clothing, and that I should go in and borrow something before my TV appearance on the Craig Kilborn show.
I went to the store with Lash and Iâll never forget walking in the door. There beyond the counter was this dark, strikingly handsome man with black hair and brown eyes. He looked up at me and I could practically hear the soundtrack as every muscle in my body slowly and inexorably moved toward him, magnetized, in slow motion. He was disarming and quiet, which made him all the more mysterious, standing there in the dark corner of the dark store, smoking a cigarette. I wondered if that motorcycle parked out back was his. I remember thinking, Who is this guy?
I had just gotten out of a relationship, so I was not in the mood or mode to meet anybody, but Lash told him who I was and he let me borrow a dress for my TV show appearance. I couldnât stop thinking about him. He was so sexy. Two days later, I went back to return the clothes. One of the shop specialties was leather, so before I fully realized what I was doing, I blurted out, âI think I want to buy some leather pants.â
Normally, the storeâs tailor would do the measuring, but he obviously sensed some chemistry between us, so he thrust the measuring tape into Ronâs hands and quickly ushered himself out the door, leaving Ron standing there, awkwardly holding the measuring tape and staring at me. I stood there like a deer in the headlights, my blue eyes blinking, thinking, Oh no, heâs not really going to measure my inseam, is he? I immediately became self-conscious of my thighs. Canât he measure my brain first? I thought. I know I donât have any cellulite on my brain!
But this was happening. This dark mysterious man knelt down in front of me (why oh why had I worn a miniskirt!) and began measuring. Iâm not sure he even knew how to use a measuring tape, but there he was on his hands and knees, measuring the
Over the next few years, I was in many other lusty relationships. I came to dread that feeling of obsession, whether it was in me or for me. Maybe because I was an only child and I tend to be internal and I like being alone, relationships scared me, and I ran away from a lot of them, although as soon as one ended, I was looking for anotherone. I kept trying to fill a void in me that nobody seemed able to fill. It took me a long time to find that person who didnât push my panic button. That, too, is a story of lust.
I felt drawn to Ron from the beginning. He was hot. He was so hot, and my lust for him was so strong, that I questioned its validity. How could I have a relationship with a guy who made me feel like this? I didnât trust my lust. I thought I would do better and be more sensible with someone who was a friend first, who had a common background to mine, who was from a similar place, who had a similar kind of intellectual view of the world. That wasnât Ron. It freaked me out a little, how lusty we were together. This is how we met.
I had just decided to leave Law & Order, so I was doing a lot of talk shows about why I was leaving, what I would do next, things like that. Whenever someone starts or leaves a show, the media gets interested. A dear friend of mine named Lash Fary, who is everything his name suggests, was a customer of a well-known designer who owned a great menâs clothing store called Lords. It was a very rock-and-roll, chic, luxurious, high-end kind of store, and although it was a menâs store, my friend told me that the designer-owner of this store had some samples of womenâs clothing, and that I should go in and borrow something before my TV appearance on the Craig Kilborn show.
I went to the store with Lash and Iâll never forget walking in the door. There beyond the counter was this dark, strikingly handsome man with black hair and brown eyes. He looked up at me and I could practically hear the soundtrack as every muscle in my body slowly and inexorably moved toward him, magnetized, in slow motion. He was disarming and quiet, which made him all the more mysterious, standing there in the dark corner of the dark store, smoking a cigarette. I wondered if that motorcycle parked out back was his. I remember thinking, Who is this guy?
I had just gotten out of a relationship, so I was not in the mood or mode to meet anybody, but Lash told him who I was and he let me borrow a dress for my TV show appearance. I couldnât stop thinking about him. He was so sexy. Two days later, I went back to return the clothes. One of the shop specialties was leather, so before I fully realized what I was doing, I blurted out, âI think I want to buy some leather pants.â
Normally, the storeâs tailor would do the measuring, but he obviously sensed some chemistry between us, so he thrust the measuring tape into Ronâs hands and quickly ushered himself out the door, leaving Ron standing there, awkwardly holding the measuring tape and staring at me. I stood there like a deer in the headlights, my blue eyes blinking, thinking, Oh no, heâs not really going to measure my inseam, is he? I immediately became self-conscious of my thighs. Canât he measure my brain first? I thought. I know I donât have any cellulite on my brain!
But this was happening. This dark mysterious man knelt down in front of me (why oh why had I worn a miniskirt!) and began measuring. Iâm not sure he even knew how to use a measuring tape, but there he was on his hands and knees, measuring the
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