my self-healing is breaking down the events that occurred that horrific night. I can’t continue to be lost in my hell. Forcing myself to remember tiny details of that night, trying to find a reason for my attacks and the trigger that sometimes starts them. It’s plausible that there isn’t one sole trigger, or that I’ll never figure it out. Since my attacks are so sporadic, I’ve also forced myself to document where I was when each one occurred, what I saw, smelled, and heard just before it happened. Thinking back on that night and analyzing each attack I’ve had has been a difficult exercise for so many reasons. I try not to think about them for too long. It exhausts me and drains me emotionally.
Once I get into bed, I lay awake, reflecting on the reality of my life. Peter comes to mind as he sometimes does when I’m lying alone in my bed. I’m okay being alone. I worry about no one but myself. I can focus on me and only me. However, I’ll be the first to admit I do miss the regular sex. I’m horny as fuck. These past few days I’ve been in rare form. I saw a couple kissing in my lobby earlier today, and it put me into a chronic state of sexual frustration. Regardless of the loss of a healthy sex life, the thoughts of starting a new relationship hold no appeal for me.
My cellphone rings, and I quickly snatch it off my bedside table so I can tell her off. “Andrea, you’re seriously a pain in my ass.”
A masculine chuckle comes over the phone, causing me to sit up.
Oh my God !
Feigning ignorance, I ask, “Who is this?”
“It’s Ben. I’m sorry to call so late. And, yes. Barbie can most definitely be a pain in the ass. I was waiting for her green light.” That bitch probably texted him right outside my door.
A sigh escapes, which he no doubt hears. “Green light for what?”
“To apologize. I’m sorry about earlier. It has nothing to do with you. We’re starting a new case, and I’m really…”
“Stop. Ben, there is no need for you to explain yourself. I’m not looking for a relationship. I’ve told her that so many times.”
There’s a short pause before he says, “Okay. I’m glad we’re both still on the same page. I thought since you came with her earlier that you had changed your mind.”
“I was literally dragged out of my apartment.”
He chuckles again, and this time it irritates me. “She dragged you there. Got it.” His comment and condescending tone downright piss me off. Who the fuck does this jerk think he is?
“Is that all you wanted?” My annoyance is clear over the phone. He’s getting to me, and he now knows it. I just showed my hand. I wouldn’t doubt he’s sitting on his side of this call smirking victory.
“Yep, that’s it. Have a great night, Ella. Sweet dreams.” His voice is as smooth as silk. He hangs up before I can respond. My blood simmers as I sit staring at the phone. The worst part, my sexual frustration has just hit a new height. I can feel my breasts and girly bits pulsing with need.
After turning over and punching my pillow a few times, the unmistakable ache that being horny creates has taken over my nerve endings. I feel like I’ve been plugged into an electrical outlet. Knowing my body well, I will not be able to fall asleep until I rectify it. I reach into my nightstand for my substitute boyfriend with Ben Stone hijacking my thoughts.
I was up all night. Masturbating was a huge mistake. It left me wanting and needing more than just what my vibrator was able to give me. At the crack of dawn I gave up on sleep, threw on some workout clothes, and headed to my favorite place to run. Most head up to Central Park, but I prefer running along the waterfront on the Hudson. It stretches from uptown to Battery Park, and the view of the river is calming. My mother often took me to the beaches near our home in Massachusetts. It’s where I sprinkled her ashes. She said having grown up in the middle of the country, beaches were only seen in
Once I get into bed, I lay awake, reflecting on the reality of my life. Peter comes to mind as he sometimes does when I’m lying alone in my bed. I’m okay being alone. I worry about no one but myself. I can focus on me and only me. However, I’ll be the first to admit I do miss the regular sex. I’m horny as fuck. These past few days I’ve been in rare form. I saw a couple kissing in my lobby earlier today, and it put me into a chronic state of sexual frustration. Regardless of the loss of a healthy sex life, the thoughts of starting a new relationship hold no appeal for me.
My cellphone rings, and I quickly snatch it off my bedside table so I can tell her off. “Andrea, you’re seriously a pain in my ass.”
A masculine chuckle comes over the phone, causing me to sit up.
Oh my God !
Feigning ignorance, I ask, “Who is this?”
“It’s Ben. I’m sorry to call so late. And, yes. Barbie can most definitely be a pain in the ass. I was waiting for her green light.” That bitch probably texted him right outside my door.
A sigh escapes, which he no doubt hears. “Green light for what?”
“To apologize. I’m sorry about earlier. It has nothing to do with you. We’re starting a new case, and I’m really…”
“Stop. Ben, there is no need for you to explain yourself. I’m not looking for a relationship. I’ve told her that so many times.”
There’s a short pause before he says, “Okay. I’m glad we’re both still on the same page. I thought since you came with her earlier that you had changed your mind.”
“I was literally dragged out of my apartment.”
He chuckles again, and this time it irritates me. “She dragged you there. Got it.” His comment and condescending tone downright piss me off. Who the fuck does this jerk think he is?
“Is that all you wanted?” My annoyance is clear over the phone. He’s getting to me, and he now knows it. I just showed my hand. I wouldn’t doubt he’s sitting on his side of this call smirking victory.
“Yep, that’s it. Have a great night, Ella. Sweet dreams.” His voice is as smooth as silk. He hangs up before I can respond. My blood simmers as I sit staring at the phone. The worst part, my sexual frustration has just hit a new height. I can feel my breasts and girly bits pulsing with need.
After turning over and punching my pillow a few times, the unmistakable ache that being horny creates has taken over my nerve endings. I feel like I’ve been plugged into an electrical outlet. Knowing my body well, I will not be able to fall asleep until I rectify it. I reach into my nightstand for my substitute boyfriend with Ben Stone hijacking my thoughts.
I was up all night. Masturbating was a huge mistake. It left me wanting and needing more than just what my vibrator was able to give me. At the crack of dawn I gave up on sleep, threw on some workout clothes, and headed to my favorite place to run. Most head up to Central Park, but I prefer running along the waterfront on the Hudson. It stretches from uptown to Battery Park, and the view of the river is calming. My mother often took me to the beaches near our home in Massachusetts. It’s where I sprinkled her ashes. She said having grown up in the middle of the country, beaches were only seen in
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