Haunted by Good Feelings

I really hate myself sometimes. 

It's guilt, yes, that makes me feel that way, but there's something more that leaves me helpless and trapped: My smile.   After I have "repented" (momentarily) and realized my fault in the delusions with other women that I sought to carry out a a fling with, I still carry the shame of enjoying the memory of it. 

I like the fantasy, otherwise why would I create it?   But it's not the fantasy that I am talking about.  I liked the women that I fantasized about.  I liked the feeling that they gave me while they were around.  I liked how good it felt when they gave me their attention.  It was powerful.  It was memorable.  And the memory of it still feels good. 
I know I should feel rotten because of that...  and I do.

My husband and I were swapping stories around the dinner table when I recalled one relating to a friend of mine.  Greta was the newbie at youth group when I decided to sit down next to her to make her feel welcomed.  She was a 7th grader while I was a year ahead of her.  I'm not sure why it meant so much to her that I was older, but it did and soon after she invited me to her birthday party.  I hardly knew her, but I was not going to say no and make her feel inferior with me or with the youth group.  Her parents were well off and had rented a couple of rooms at a four star hotel for an all girl slumber party.  It was me, Greta, and about 8 other 7th graders - all of them overly giddy to have an 8th grader in their midst.  I thought to myself, they really don't know me very well.  But all the attention started to give me a big head after awhile.  Especially any attention that I received from Greta's cousin. 
Melissa caught my eye immediately.  Everything she did, her walk, her words, her voice, made me smile.  I worked really hard not to show just how crazy she made me feel while I was at the party.  The night consisted of meeting at Greta's house, going out to eat, swimming in the hotel pool, and watching a pay-per-view inside our room.  I remember that Melissa took a shower that night after the swim and then another again in the morning.  Twice I saw her wearing a towel two and from...I was in awe of her beauty.  She was a goddess to me.  I wanted to talk to her more, but I had no words to say.  It was easier to sit and just admire.  It's because of this memory that Greta and I were never that close as friends.  I was invited over a couple more times after the party, but all I could think of was her cousin.  I would even ask about her inconspicuously, to see how she was doing.  I explained to Drew that even now, I can't think of Greta or her parents without thinking about that party with Melissa there.  And I smile at the thought of it.  I know I should feel guilt and shame over it.  But I don't.  I still like the memory...I feel the same about it.  What I regret is that I let something so small distract me from having a quality friendship with Greta. 
She became collateral damage from my selfish attraction.

Many advocates for gays have stood up against the notion that anything should be able to "fix" them.  They say that they are not sick, that there is no disease making them this way.  I agree.  It's not a disease.  And no one can undo what has been done...   We all have to just keep moving forward.  But I stand before you now saying that I do wish to be "fixed"....  most days.  Some days I like being attracted to women.  I like being different.  "Normal" people seem boring and two-dimensional.  But when those days pass to the next, normal is everything that I hope for.  Sanity is what I pray for.

I am tormented by feelings that I know I should not indulge in and enjoy.  How do I tell myself to not enjoy what is enjoyable?

A few months ago, I called up a friend from church and asked her if she could meet me to talk.  I was feeling rotten and sharing these thoughts with other people has been my cry for help lately.  Unprepared with any words to say, I told her that I just wanted to spend time with a friend.  She was not satisfied with that response, and persisted to pry out what was bothering me.  Feeling guilty, for calling her out there as if I was wasting her time and invading her space, I tried to explain what was going on.  I hated myself.  I saw my beautiful kids and loving husband and I felt so undeserving of them.  I knew I had done things wrong.  My thoughts were deceitful and my actions had been (in the past) following that same path.  I wanted to beg someone to institutionalize me, just so my family might be spared from my insanity.  My friend must have misunderstood, because she began to bombard me with advice and  "what you need to do''s. 
She told me that I should find a church that has more elderly people so I would not feel tempted as often.  I shook my head at the notion that running away from it as if that would solve anything.   Her advice just reaffirmed my feelings of failure.    She tried to relate from a heterosexual level with my situation.  She reminded me of my obligation to my children and spouse.  My friend tried to assure me that everyone struggles with physical temptation to look at other people that are not your partner.  "You just have to go somewhere else and look away."  "Do it for your kids, just think of their sweet little faces and what that would do to them."  By the time she was done encouraging me, I wanted to crawl in a hole and die from remorse.

What my friend failed to realize (besides the obvious misunderstanding of my emotional state) was that I am attracted to a gender of people, not just one person.  I'm not trying to say that all women make me blush.  I do have a man, whom I love, and I have a family that I love.  But I just desire something more.  That something is an experience with a woman.  Although, not just any woman, I would still have to avoid an entire gender to be sure I was ridding myself of that temptation.  Avoiding a gender that is your own... now that's what I call an impossibility. 

I know, I'm a mess.  I'm a wreck waiting to happen, and any other cliche that fits. 

This is what it's like to be haunted by good feelings.