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*Beth* · Nov 06, 2022, 02:25 AM

Quote:

Originally Posted by bizi

I am pretty much asexual. Hubby is not interested,
because of my weight gain I think

and he was not able to perform last time we tried

and I laughed which was a terrible thing to do.
I am embarrassed to say.
Last night any ways, I went to fat pats for a few

beers and started talking to this man beside me.

Troy was handsome and I listened to him talk a lot

about his prior service as a navy seal. really impressive.
he bought me a couple of pickle vodka shots and
I listened to him talk my ear off...
I thought to myself This is a man I could have an

affair with. He looked alot like a movie star....
I can't believe I thought that.
He got up to use the rest room and fell over a chair.

and came back to sit down and regain his composure.
He went again to use the restroom and made it with
out falling again. Every one was concerned for
his safety.. It is hard to believe that he did not hurt himself.
wonder if he came back for the game today?
he is a big LSU fan.
bizi

I understand, and I don't blame you one bit. Before Seroquel I had 3 affairs. David and I were sexually very compatible. But then he started spending time working with his books, out in the garages of 2 places we lived (we've had a book business for many years). The kids were 9 and 12. And no matter what, I took excellent care of them and always did. David stopped coming to eat dinner with the three of us, which broke my heart. I just wanted a family, nothing else in the world. Then he stopped coming to bed until nearly dawn. He'd awaken me from a sound sleep and want to have sex. Well, I had to get up early so I'd say leave me alone. Things really went downhill. I begged and begged him to go to therapy with me (I'd been in therapy myself for several years). He flatly refused. He refused to change. He refused to be a part of our family anymore. He went to work and came home to work with his books.

Then I started meeting guys. The first one was a "secret," a very brief affair. By the time of the second one I was totally open with David...I told him I was desperate for some attention, love, etc. and that I had met a man I had really fallen for. God, I was madly in love. David just looked at me. The kids were teens by then. I had a relationship with that man for 3 years and enjoyed every minute of it...I was so truly in love with him; we were so compatible in every way. I broke it off when he asked me to move to a different city with him. To this day I love him, even though I've spoken with him only once in many years.

The third guy I met I wasn't madly attracted to, but David was so indifferent and so took me for granted. By then both David and I, our parents were dead. Extended family was more or less out of the picture. But we definitely didn't want to divorce.

Well, that guy and I had a ton of fun together for 2 years. We worked together, I met loads of new people, and the man was a romantic and so attentive to me. He appreciated me. He made me feel loved. Adored, really. He did things that David had never once done, such as bring me flowers and take me to dinner.

So, David and I, our marriage was a mess and at that point David had the opportunity to move into his parents' former house, the house he'd grown up in. He did that and I moved in with the guy I'd been seeing. My daughter was 18, my son 15. When the guy and I moved in together the fun fell apart. He had been an alcoholic, but had stopped drinking. But, he returned to heavy drinking. I was beside myself. The whole thing dragged on and on.

Some years passed and some things happened. The man began using heavy drugs. First it was crank, then meth. He became very, very hostile toward me. I didn't realize it when he began using heroin. I started finding syringes around the outside of the house, then I found a brick (of heroin) in the freezer. I was lost. Dude was absolutely hateful toward me because he was so strung out. Out of his mind. Batshite crazy.

Things got weird and weirder. Then there was a home invasion. Dude owed some people who didn't like being owed. I was damned lucky to safely get myself, my cats, my rat, and the few possessions I could stuff into my car within less than an hour and out of there. I lost just about everything I'd owned. And that's how I ended up where I am, in this town, living 1 mile from David. I had to quit the job I loved and had worked at for almost 15 years, because of the long commute.

What a Godawful mess. Anyway, a couple of years later J. cleaned up and was diagnosed with bipolar disorder (NO surprise). I'm glad, because he did get on meds and I hear through a friend he's doing well.

And now...here I am. I'm sorry for this lonnng post, and for straying from my OP. But my own sexuality does figure into it all. That passion, that fire. Wanting to be wanted and wanting.