Till Loves End #Wattys2016

Part 1

All parts are unedited. I will come back and edit them as I have time. Please keep in mind that I wrote this 50 page short story in 3 days so please excuse the errors. It flowed so seamlessly I just had to share it with everyone ASAP!!

Enjoy.

I was lost. I felt numb and dead inside and that was how I wanted my outside to be as well. How foolish could I have been? After coming so far and doing so well. All it took was one good looking stupid guy to screw up all the progress I'd made over the past year. Therapy had been helping and I was well onto the road to recovery. But no! I thought I'd found love behind a pair of cat green eyes and a blonde wig.

How could I do this again? I just wanted to die.

~

1 years prior.

Of all the mental illnesses out there I just had to have this one. I had a sex addiction. And it wasn't just as simple as I liked sex and I had it with any half decent looking man no matter the cost, although that too is true. I had developed this unnaturally horrid bond with sex and mistook sex for love. Every man I slept with I thought loved me. After all, how could you do the most intimate of acts with someone you didn't love. You bare the deepest part of your soul to someone while performing those acts and to get nothing in return is heartbreaking.

There was a point that I think I realized that I was addicted to the feeling of having my heart broken. I loved the way the pain settled in my chest and made me hurt. I had become a masochist.

I spiraled into a depressed so deeply that my friends worried for my safety. They thought I was at risk to harming myself. After days of not seeing or hearing from me, they decided to call a well check on me. The police showed up, proved I was safe and left. There was nothing out of the ordinary for them to report and it wasn't like I was actually threating to harm myself. I just wasn't going out to see the light of day.

After that day I promised to keep everyone in the loop a little bit more. I didn't want to worry my loved ones, I just wanted to be alone. Other people convinced me to make poor life choices. Like a casual cup of coffee led to the barista giving me his phone number and before end of the week I was a coiled-up mess crying my broken-hearted eyes out. A trip shopping with girlfriends led to a three-day fling with the valet parking attendant who parted my Jetta at the mall. That too left me an inconsolable mess.

All trips out of the house led to sex for me. I ached for it. I wanted the deep back breaking pain that could only be gotten through having someone drill you mercilessly into a bed. I wanted the fire that filled my lungs from screaming someone's name. I craved the intensity from my lovers gaze. I wanted that all-consuming sex.

The biggest problem was that I never felt like I'd gotten that from any man I'd ever been with.

All except for one that is.

One day my friends had enough. They wanted their friend back. I was too far gone to see how bad it really was.

They called it an intervention.

I came home after a trip to the grocery store; of course with a guy's number. His name was Ashley. Good looking guy. It would be my first date in a few weeks. Just like always I was filled with hope that this time would be different. I'd bare my soul and he'd seen me for who I was.

I opened the door to see three of my closest friends and my brother Tom.

"What are you guys doing here?"