I spent ten years with you. Ten years with a man who was gentle, but not passionate. You were dead a lot of the time, you had no fire and very little spark.

So, the thought of a man just looking at me with desire, Christ, just thinking about me with desire, in his eyes shoots into me the adrenaline of 1000 people.

Here I am.

Not wholly broken.

Not wholly whole.

I lived with and tolerated someone who was emotionally retarded. I lived with it for a long time.

And now, I am playing tag with some stranger with whom I am completely ambivalent who is completely ambivalent towards me.

He is a broken, self-loathing person with an identity crisis, possibly looking for someone to heal him. He's one of those goth, vampire people, from what I gather on his Myspace page. You know, those people who have custom made fangs and contact lenses; they make up their faces to a deathly pallor on weekend nights and go to industrial clubs. They wear dark ensembles and have elaborate "identities" and go to goth nights and shit like that. It's another life they have. Pentagrams, blood stones, fangs, bla bla bla... it's basically harmless. They have their own circles and they don't hurt anyone.

My friend says that's why he won't meet me. He can't show his real self. He can only communicate online or through his other life. That's why he's an artist. She knew people like that in college...

College, people!

This guy is 33. It's not for fun anymore... it's a flipping life choice.

Oh, yeah.

But it's not about him. It's about me.

What the hell am I doing?

Why can't I just let go of someone, just because he says he likes and lusts after me? Do I need it that badly? Am I that damaged?

Because I'm afraid there won't be anyone after him.

Why do I gravitate to broken, unstable men?

Because I think I can heal them.

What am I learning?

Nada.

Will I stop?

I

don't

know.