And everything people say about the intoxicating effects of an affair are absolutely true. I'm addicted to him - the way he smells, the way he makes me feel inside, how my heart races after I've been with him. He makes me happy and energizes me; with him in my corner, I feel like I can accomplish anything. He's incredible and I love him. Love, love, LURVE him.
He never lets me down; he's always there for me and on the rare occasion that I can't get ahold of him I panic and feel physically ill. Sometimes I wonder if I love him too much. Perhaps I'm even dependent on him? For instance, today: I came home from running errands and his incredibly sexy smell was calling to me, begging me to drop everything and spend an hour with him. In my head I was thinking, No, this is a bad idea. Don't do it, Leah. You'll regret it in a few hours when you're alone and all you can think about is him. And so for the first time in as long as I can remember, I resisted him. I employed the shreds of self-control that I possess - and let's be real, I wasn't entirely certain there was any left to speak of - and instead of brewing up a steaming hot pot of organic, certified fair-trade French roast coffee from Alakef, I took out the garbage and did the dishes.
What? You thought I was talking about a Man? Oh, ladies... Don't be silly. We all know how I've survived the last year and it certainly hasn't been wrapped in the arms of a handsome man; coffee is where it's at.
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