Red Light Compulsion

part 2; accepting the addiction

At last, my delightful and pleasing king size bed was in plain sight, I could think of nothing better than hugging a beautifully feather-filled duvet after such a captivating yet draining experience. Maybe I was just feeling lonely and the only reason I was feeling so infatuated and overwhelmed was because I had not had any positive attention for what felt like a century. 

There is something so validating about small encounter's like the one I had just had and I could not get it out of my mind, or even replace it with any other thought for that matter. I grounded my thoughts and hopped into bed.

"Now this is euphoria".

I softly whisper, sinking my face deep into my satin sheets. The thought of you was now a distant memory, I could now feel myself slowly sinking deeper and deeper into comfort as I drifted in and out of reality. A sudden feeling began pursuing me, pressure undeniably building around my waist and hips with the warmth engulfing my entire, lifeless body.

This feeling was nothing like anything I had ever felt before and I could not get enough of the way it made me feel. I was addicted. Sleepily, I open my eyes and see you beside me grabbing on to my waist and pulling me closer to your impressively scorching body. The pressure builds, leaving me panting and fighting for every breath that I take.

 Was I dreaming? Was he really beside me? The thoughts commence and in a split second, I am jolted back into reality all alone in a cold inanimate bed that is meant for two, not just one. I glance at the alarm clock and the red light it secretes paralyzes my hopeless body, pulling every single thought from deep inside of my head and twisting it into meaningless memories. I was no longer awake and neither was my mind.

I wake to the screeching of the clock, I begin to slowly sit up whilst wiping the beads of sweat off the surface of my forehead. 

I couldn't help but reminisce such a perfect moment as I stand up to get ready for another busy day in the office, I never look forward to working anymore even though I am the best at my job and it was the safest option for someone like me. 

On another note, Jack. He infuriated me and his voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard, piercing through my tough eardrums. I couldn't understand why I had done what I had done with him so passionately in such an offputting location, but now the whole office knew because he could not keep his mouth shut about how 'bad' i wanted him at that moment (which I did at the time quite obviously).

Sitting in the office was so much worse than watching paint dry and I couldn't help but count down the hours, minutes even seconds till I could be out having drinks with the girls; they had organized a night out for me as they knew how tense things were at the office as well as how awkward things were with jack when he opened that large, oversharing mouth of his.

 Time seemed to be speeding up and it was finally time to go home, it was roughly 7:30 pm, meaning it was nearly time to meet the girls at our favorite bar in the whole of Amsterdam, its name being the house of bolts. We found a good spot in the corner and approached the bar to order some drinks. After thoroughly examining the options, I decided to buy a bottle of Shiraz for myself; it had been a hard week and all judgments were not currently applicable.

The night was slowly coming to an end and the morning was approaching, I said my goodbyes and began to holla at the taxi's going through town. 

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After a while of waiting, I feel a soft tap on my shoulder and alarmed, I turn around. It was him! There was something so mysterious and dark about him and I couldn't even begin to put my finger on what it was and without saying a word to me, he stuck his beautifully crafted hand out in the street; a taxi greeted us with a honk and we jumped in together, it just felt so right. 

He started mumbling to the driver and I catch only a few words of what he was saying; danger is all I could sense but I was willing to experience danger with him, for him. Maybe this was the wine talking again, I was not sure. No one had ever had such a grasp on me and I could not help but feel uneasily comfortable. He muttered

"I want to see that you get home safely after such an exciting night".

I was really feeling tipsy now, you were blurry and yet still an artwork. What was I doing in a car with a stranger? The wine had taken all rationality leaving me on the side of the car with my head up against the window once again staring into your eyes. The taxi pulled up outside my apartment, I almost fell out in such a hurry and I yelled to you on the way out,

"Thank much you so tall dark and handsome".

I slapped my forehead in stupidity and stumbled into my apartment knocking down all of my ornaments, before running to the toilet to regurgitate the wine that I had insisted on drinking.

 Next, I aim for my bed running in a zig-zag pattern before mounting the bed and simultaneously passing out; in my deceased-looking hand was an antique snowglobe I had picked up off the floor after annihilating all my picture frames and paintings leaving rubble and regret laying out all over the floor. I was out cold.

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