Stupid Flesh

I’m running into a major temptation. I mean, it’s so major, I had to yell at myself… out loud. Now I do that sometimes, but only when I really deserve it, and god damn it, do I… do I… do I…

So here’s this issue with me, I had this friend a long time ago. We hung out and he was really nice… goofy and VERY male, but nice. We never did anything, and didn’t really flirt. We were just friends. Well, when i got serious with my ex, I kinda lost a lot of friends. I wanted to spend my time with my boyfriend, and when I did have free time, they weren’t available. I would talk to them thru emails and such, but it just kinda dwindled. Well, when I got pregnant, I lost contact with everyone and kinda sunk into a major depression, evident in the first half of this diary.

Anyway, I’m rambling… I had this friend and just recently we started talking again… mainly by computer and such. He said he was working with my brother and other junk like that… so I said that I looked totally different, due to widening hips, expanded cleavage and baby weight (slowly coming off, yay!!!).. he said he did too. So I asked for a picture, cuz god only knows when I’ll have the time to hang out with him again.

And he got so gorgeous. How does this happen? HOW HOW HOW???? And why me? I mean, I don’t need to be attracted to someone like that. I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna!!!!!! And the worst part of it is, that all I’d have to do is say the word, and it would be… how should I say… it’d be a done deal. But I can’t do that.

To make it worse, there is another person who I’m seriously conflicted over. He doesn’t really know it I’m sure. But I keep having stupid dreams and imagining kissing him. ITS STUPID!

Haven’t I had enough drama with males? Shouldn’t I be perfectly happy leaving them alone? I hate these wretched hormones, they are plaguing my soul to utter death. I mean, the demons keep whispering in my ear, “come on, it wouldn’t be anything. Just a simple little activity, like watching a movie or going for a jog. No strings, no emotions, just release… release… release….” And so that’s the point at which I begin to scream at myself and beat my fists on the nearest object. I don’t want to do that. I know I don’t. And I’m pretty sure that I won’t do anything.

See, the key word here is pretty… I’m not absolutely sure, nor am I just sure… I’m only pretty sure, which means I hold the potential to fall head first down a cliff into some jagged rocks and knock myself into pieces and bleed the life out of my body into an ocean of no return. Yeah, its pretty god damned dramatic, but it just wouldn’t be me if it wasn’t completely psychotic.

I need some help, some serious mental help. I’m so afraid of what I might do. I’m afraid I’ll just say to hell with it and satisfy my flesh. Stupid flesh, rotting stupid flesh. I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate this. I just want to be happy with the way things are now, not needing or wanting anything else to make me feel good. I’m happy with being a mother, I’m happy with loving my son… now I just need to convince myself to be happy with not having sex. Easy enough, I did it before, I can do it again.. Stupid Flesh.