He has been asking me to visit him at home. To sleep over. To spend time.
I have been dodging his advances.
Even if we can both always rationalize that friends do that sort of thing.
I guess I know better.
The dysfunctional, sexual dance we do.
It was easier to say no in Manila.
I just didn’t show up.
Now that we are both in Sincity, it hasn’t been that easy.
The temptation is strong.
I feel it in my groin and my uterus.
A gentle, relentless throb.
My mind is swirling along with it.
He apparently had asked me to stay with him.
I don’t remember.
He wants me to sleepover and just disappear.
And that’s exactly what would have happened if I did go home with him tonight.
I realize quite clearly that I have to walk the talk if I am going to take myself seriously.
I need brand new scripts.
On so many levels.
And the only way to transform from old scripts is to do things differently.
So, I said no.
I chose no.
When my old response would have been a loud resounding YES;
This time, no is the way.
No to the old temporary way of removing the pain.
No to what perpetuated how small I saw myself.
No to where I fed whatever addiction via substitution.
No even if I know how damn pleasurable it might be.
It won’t feel good to just jump head first with my eyes closed. yet again. Feel good as in the long lasting kind.
And it won’t be because it might make me miss someone else.
He won’t be the one I will long for.
The only person I will miss, it turns out, would be me.
Protecting my heart begins with sanctifying my body.
So, I said no.
Not for me.
grateful slice: changing my M.O. and knowing why.