My need for sex has gotten desperate.  I can’t stop thinking about it.  Damn hypersexuality…  haven’t had anything since this began…  and, I don’t do well with that.  And, freakishly enough, I’ve never been able to care of the frustration myself.  even as a teenager, self service sex acts just didn’t do it for me.  I have a bitchin’ imagination, but it just gets me fired up, and hungry, like I am, right now.  Starving…  and, I know he’s nowhere near that point, but dear God, I need to have sex so much I can fucking feel it.  My muscles just throb for it…  this is probably an over-the-line entry, but oh well…

I was working on a particularly lurid moment in my play, a few minutes ago, and I just flew into sex mode.  It was awful.  I just wanted to climb on top of Charlie, and violate him.   But, I’m not allowed to do that, anymore.  Not that I’ve tried, but I have a pretty good idea what the outcome would be.  I know my husband.  I wish he could forgive me, or… at least…  let me back in…  because, it would be easier to repair the damage that’s been done if I wasn’t being kept at a safe distance at all times.  He can’t really be sure he wants out.  Not even a half hour ago, I laid next to him, in his arms, with my head on his shoulder.

Today’s been alright.  Not the lovely day I was going for, but not bad, either.  It’s still early.  I might still come up with something cool.  Pull a rabbit out of a hat…  but, I still won’t get laid.