Many year ago, in my youth, I made a lot of extremely horrible choices. In the moment, I did not think they were bad ideas because I was a young fool, but also because I would do what anybody does when they know they are fucking up, justify it. One of the shittiest decisions I ever made was to start messing around with a married guy. It is funny because when I was in my teens the idea of being the side chick was appalling and I feel the same way in my old age. So what happened to me in my early to mid twenties? A lot more pill popping and drinking. Not that this is a valid excuse, but as we all know, inhibitions go by the wayside when you’re under the influence.
The saddest part is that I don’t think I ever actually really liked this married guy. I try and think back about why I would have been into him and I’ve got nothing. This is actually the most upsetting part, why do something that is wrong if it wasn’t even worth it? I could almost understand it if I looked back, even now, and thought, you know, I really liked him and had good memories. I have nothing but feelings of cringe. It grosses me out that he was married. It sickens me that I pursued him in part as an ego thing for me, to see if I could and see how far I could take it. It makes me want to vomit that in that time, I convinced myself I actually liked him but I never did, it was just another why to placate my inner voice telling me this is fucked up.
What’s even worse is that not only was I better than him and I let him upset me, but that I wasted my young pussy on this moron. I could’ve been slinging that gash elsewhere. Devastating. I guess I’m old because they always say if I knew then what I know now and boy do I agree. I would definitely have been fucking a way hotter married man.