I am so weak.
All the joy at "passing my test" is completely gone. I've failed just as spectacularly as I thought I succeeded before. And now I'm left to wonder what on earth I was fucking thinking.
Well, ok I don't have to wonder. I was thinking about satisfaction in the short term. I was thinking about how fucking lonely I've been and how in the face of my *guests* romance I have no one, yet at least for that one shining moment in the here and now I had him. He wanted me. The pheromones collided and I can't lie when I say the revenge of paying the fucking true-love-birds back with a dose of their own played it's role in my decision.
Of course now I'm stuck with the rush of bonding chemicals that I know, sadly, have no where to go but back again into myself. At least this time I know better than to look to him, like a fool. I am the epitome of the dirty little secret, lest his "family" find out and he lose his own one true love, his fucking kid.
And of course the fucking love birds can't keep their stupid hands off each other, or their stupid playful jokes, kicks, prods, laughs, tickles, and other completely annoying horseshit at bay. I knew they wouldn't be able to, and I even knew it would be this bad, but I just didn't want to think that I could deserve this.
Now I know I do.
