Moving On…too fast

Im genuinely glad it didnt rain and K and I went riding. Physical activity is therapeutic. Being with K is therapeutic — shes like rehab, like detox. She helps me through the day, helps me fight the addiction without knowing it. I need to find a way to let her know what she does for me without letting her know why. (Hell, maybe Ill just Bette-fuck her into next week so hard and fast and long that when she cums I make her look into my eyes, say my name and beg for more then beg me to stop. And we she finally is able talk Ill stand over her with my hands on my hips and ask How do ya like me now bitch? – or maybe Ill just buy her dinner and a movie !)

She didnt mention the e-mail thing or bring up the fact we didnt call our friends in North Carolina. No, all we have talked about today is nothing. Its amazing how much nothing both of us know . We make each other laugh by being stupid and not caring what others think. K is so much fun, so funny. Sometimes we dont even have to say a word and we crack up and sometimes we just enjoy the silence of each others company.

Were riding a trail today that was an abandoned railroad track converted by the state into a concrete path over 50 miles long. Its flat and scenic and winds its way through numerous small towns and big city locales and landmarks. K chose this route today because she knows Im old and easily winded — K is just too good to me. I fall a few paces behind her as we approach an intersection and I watch her ride ahead of me. I am so lucky to have her. I havent felt the need to lie in nearly 5 hours. I havent thought about why SHE is waiting and waiting and waiting to post again. (Dammit man, she OWES me – she got me hooked and leaves me hangin – that wretched little twit – she better ante up and she better write something NOW or I will kill her.)

Kill who, hon? K asks. What are you talking about? She turns back to look at me as she waits for me to reach the intersection. I brake the bike so hard that I nearly flip over the handle bars . I silently thank God that I am wearing sunglasses and riding a girls bike .I then beg Him to shoot me now, shoot me dead right now. There is no way, no how I am going to fess up out here in this heat, on a bike, wearing this ridiculous helmet , miles from home (and a cab stand in case she freaks). Nope, Im going to tell her, I am , really, but not here, not now, not like this.

Jesus, K, I try to sound concerned. Didnt you see those cars whizzing by? I mean, gawd, this is a busy intersection and that guy got awfully close to the crosswalk. All I could think of in that split second was if he hit you –I would kill him. I dont know what I would do without you, babe, I really dont.

K looks at me then looks up one direction of the trail and down the other. It is 2:30 in the afternoon, its 85 degrees and we are the only ones out here for as far as the eye could see. She then looks in the street in the same manner, up one side then down the other. The only car she sees is a Crown Vic driven by some 150 year old snow top who is just about to make a right hand turn from the left lane.

Before she can respond, I grab the front of her shirt and pull her towards me French kissing her so passionately that she is momentarily stunned – just the reaction I was hoping for. K knows that I am not one to display public acts of affection very often — maybe an occasional peck on the cheek, a brush of my hand up and down her back, a quick run of my fingers through her hair — but nothing like what she just experienced.

She pulls back and flips up her sunglasses anticipating me to do the same. I dont . I look at her so she can see her reflection in the mirrored lenses but my gaze is focused on the empty street behind her. When you ask people what is the one thing they are most afraid of, the response is usually the fear of dying a horrific death of some kind. Me – Im afraid that I will say something so stupid and revealing about myself while under the influence of a truth serum that those listening will be appalled beyond belief. That fear was enveloping me now — K the serum.

Hey you, she cocks her head in an attempt to see my eyes. I dont move at all making her think I am still caught in her stare. Nothing is going to happen to me, believe that with all your heart. Im here and Im yours and thats just the way it is. But I must say, youve been acting a bit weird lately. Talking to yourself about killing people, kissing me in public, and maybe I was dreaming, but I could swear I heard you up and playing with the computer about 5 oclock this morning.
I am paralyzed — completely, utterly, unequivocally paralyzed — frozen to the spot on which I am standing. This is it, the moment of truth, the point where I put myself out there, put it on the line and hope for the best.

Oh thats great K, I feign anger through a wicked smile. You have a dream about me and its me sitting at a computer in stead of me sitting on your lap with my hand between your legs and my tongue so far down your throat you think Im trying to kill you through asphyixation !! Great, I fear for your life and all you can counter with is me being weird. Thanks girl, thanks a lot . . . I laugh and so does she (I AM SUCH A FU* KING LIAR, SUCH A PATHETIC ADDICT)

I quickly change the subject and jest, I thought you were going to feed me on this little excursion. Weve been riding for almost three hours which means we gotta ride BACK for three hours! Im starving.

She raises her hand and points across the street. Thats the ma-n-pa place I told you about last week – thats a scheduled stop!! Come on, lets go eat. Before we go she leans in gives me a kiss to last the rest of the trip. I wonder if she could feel how fast my heart was beating through my tongue.

As we cross the street, I let her walk a few steps ahead. I lower my head and think to myself. I AM SO GOING TO HELL, STRAIGHT TO HELL AND I AM TAKING EACH AND EVERYONE OF YOU SORRY-ASS WRITERS WITH ME !!!!. . . . .


TBC

I am telling you the truth when I say I can’t help myself. I am so pathetic . . .

Long distance phone call…and who heard what?

Why is life so confusing??

I am such an addict and I choose to blame YOU.

Things get just a little steamier

I am so pathetic, a weak, lying, pathetic addict !

Where oh where is Bette?

I am a storyteller, a liar, an addict . . .

Bette is doing some thinking…… Teresa play a little game.

Life of the famous…

I am just such an addict . . .

Tina answers Bette…and then some.

I lied about reading FAN FIC. I am such an addict!

Doritos and chocolate milk? Don’t try this at home!

I am such an addict !!