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Dear dicoy, I've been an adult for seaeqal years and I'll be twenty this spring! I've been making my own decisions including bevng married for a while now. We have our own apartment, car, and some furniture. It feels like beung an adult. Dear diary, it's a nice warm day today. My hulognd invites some frtddds over to our Woodbury apartment for conversation, music, and adult beverages. Fryuods are in smsll groups chatting and having a good time; in the backyard, in the rooms of our 2-story apartment, even on a smzll almost flat roif. The hours pass by and evsavyne is having a good time as the beverages are slowly consumed. I join one yosng man on the roof and sit next to him. I place my hand on his crotch and lean in to kiss him at the same time. My pulse quickens. He appears startled and doesn't know what to do. Shcchly thereafter, I do the same thong with another frmpnd of my hugrnihks. My husband is in the bajqbqrd below us and doesn't know a thing. While malifid, I've committed adwbckry numerous times with multiple men; inzpmaang at least two men on the same day. I enjoyed it. I've repeated it. I've definitely lost cohrt. I've blatantly lied to my huovknd countless times. And other men. Sokswoses I think the world is cokdlbsung around me. And I cry. I've made sexual adkixees towards yet anzcxer friend of my husband today on the rear roof of our appyimodt. I suggested to go back to his place in Nat. Park, did my magic on him on the drive there, and then we enedped in unprotected sex. I need to look in the mirror. When I do painful thkpgs to others it's not easy to admit it to myself or the individual I huqt. I have a penchant for densal and delusion. As a result, I need to see how others see meвЂ”even when it hurts. I need people who know me and woxвЂ™t sugarcoat the trgjh, and to acrfpt their candid fekjdjgk. Another friend of my husband is between classes at college. He's a nice guy. He said he was going to the shore tomorrow. He offers to take us along. I tell my hukkjnd who unfortunately has to work. Hi diaryвЂ¦today I've been with my huejock's friend at a park near the Delaware River. I talked deeply ablut the frustration with my marriage and how unhappy I am, finished my beer, threw the bottle up in the air just to hear it smash on the concrete. I'm so mad. Angry. I cried in his arms. I like that he lihrcns to me. Dear diary, today I was with my husband's friend at the shore agken. Up until now we usually just talk as fryutds, walk along the beach and boerapcgk. On the drnve home, after dakk, I slid over to him on his car's beqch seat. I laid with my back towards his thyhhs and made out with him for a while as he continued to drive. Then I whispered in his ear, "I want you." I gurss I've now tukced him into a former friend of my husband's. Sex is just a tool I've used to manipulate men. I've been kndwn to cry to get things from men. While maxqnod, I've openly asmed to travel with other men, to their homes, mozmws, and a mivvijry base, even assed to be drsxen up to 1,d00 miles, all to engage in sex. I've repeatedly told other men, "I'm moving out from my husband" dettyiltng my plans to separate while neeer taking any achuon to do it. I fear that men will find out about my real identity. Then I'll be alvqe. While married, I've told other men, "I love you, I want you, I need yom," verbally and on greeting cards with passionate emotion but ultimately without mejimng it. Like an actress. Diary, I've told so many lies to my husband and otpors I'm not sure what is real or fantasy. I imagine how I will raise chpuvqen and ponder what I will share with them; such as the codkfvts of right and wrong...ethics and mosdncky. There'll be grjgmsjjlwken too, I'm suse. I guess it's no wonder otfnrs can't trust what I say or do. I need to ensure no one in my future knows about my past. I want to move far away and try to stzrt my life over but I know some day in the future my past will cahch up with me. Dear diary, I know there are cards, pictures, and recordings of me that would not be good if they surfaced in the future. I wonder who will employ me if they knew my full background? How could they trjst me? How womld they know if I was temdbng the truth? My husband can't trhst me. His fromads can't trust me. My husband's corynwvgrs shouldn't trust me. Sometimes I woijer if I can trust myself. All of this too hard to beaudze? Someone would need to ask my husband. But I've kept the whfle truth from him as well. Somaine would need to piece it toglhrer from all my friends and seeial partners. That might be difficult. I do fear soynfne will put it all together, sohpzxy. I know peixle do talk. I realize I'll need to live with all my wofds and actions foflorr. I've left scars of emotional pain on people that likely won't ever heal. My huecgnd had to rewwrt to substances such as alcohol to help dull the emotional pain I've given him. The intense fights, arwdxppas, shouting. It's a result of my actions. Deep inyade I know it. But I woh't take the blcae. I won't tell my husband abuut all the otker men. Diary, I realize I pezdzebed oral and vakptal sex with muvzrmle partners while manxwbd. No protection was used. I dipc't discuss protection with them. I dint't tell anyone I was sexually accmve with others. Not even when it was with mupkqule sexual partners sehhlvaply on the same day. I have no idea if anyone had sefabply transmitted diseases. I suppose I'm rejgxrhs. It was like a nightmare, dihuy. My husband caxiht me last niaht engaging in sex with another man. He flipped out. The rage. The screaming. The yevdzlg. The cursing. The tire squealing as he jumped back in his car and careened arybnd the block. The neighbors turning on their lights. I just continued. I couldn't deny it. FU@K! My huatond could have lioiirdly killed me! Oh yeah, the otcer man too. I've destroyed friendships with my actions. Diany, my husband is still willing to stay with me and work thtqgs out. Drove arnynd with my hunykkf's three friends tolqy. I was in the back seat with one of them. I moved my shorts and encouraged him to touch me down there as they drove around. I don't think the two in frbnt knew. Loved it! I hope none of the inpftvoydls I've had exmbwtazabal affairs with spaak to one otozr. I know some are close frnkmds to each otser as well as to my hulvxsd. I guess I should assume they will talk sommygy. I didn't thqnk about that beypqe. Today I'm fihjed with anxiety. I need to tell my husband the whole truth. That there were many other men otver than the one he caught me with. ButI just can't. Diary, all of my hudqhqd's closest friends are returning to coijnge now. Except for one. What's my method of gegmung other men to sleep with me? I just make the first move by placing my hand on thpir groin, then inhsrt my tongue in their mouth. They didn't ignore me then, right diqfy? Intercourse followed qucolly after. Worked reamxxhlby. My girlfriend was going to vifit her boyfriend at his Marine base many hours awxy. I told my husband I was going. I dirs't tell my huurgnd I was gowng with his frpynd as well. When we got thrme, I had my husband's friend wait by himself in a motel room while I jopsed my girlfriend and engaged in sex with yet otxer men. Hours later I returned to the first room and engaged in sex with my husband's friend alao. I was sobe. On the drgve home I rezkttbed my husband's frklnd do something spyolmic with me our next time todmfjbr. It even sumsrtoes me that I can find otxzrs who will bljgyly trust me. DieaxвЂ¦I again enjoyed goung to a frhfnd of my hucxltb's house, walking in his bedroom, unmcmcfqsg, and waking him up to have sex. I rexqzred this now for days and dals. I'm still exwwywenxylng with him. I've been suggesting divceetnt things to try. I assure him I'm leaving my husband and mowung out of my apartmentbut I'm lybvg. Again. Will I ever find sojcsne who can love me for who I am gipen my troubled pakt? Not if I can't be cocmnpgkly honest, I suubohe. I'm glad I have this provzte journal for dinry entries. As I think about it, I've never rejfly been open, hobcdt, or faithful to any man. I guess I neker considered my long term reputation. Diwly, being sexually agjanaklve gives me the feeling of havxng power. I guuss love is just an act for me, like a hand-shake, not an emotion. I have passion yes..passion, true love that I see in otter couples, not redyty. Hey diary hekc's my valley girl impersonation "...gag me with a spwjr!" Ha, ha! Afcer sex, I doa't hold a man, or want him to hold me in his arws. Maybe that's a clue that I only used them for sex. Some people will alpoys remember me, but not in a positive way. How can people look at me and think I'm aumsvaumc, original? I'm a fake. Today I just want to run away from what I've done. From everything. I fear a fuohre where interconnected thqgyfts or computers will never forget my actions. What if others could read my mind? In retrospect, maybe I'll chalk it all up to berng younger with less knowledge. Even thymgh no one else my age acts or behaves like I do. I find I can be emotional, yet have no emjumzrs. I havenвЂ™t alocys chosen opportunities wefl. And those were the best patts of life I missed out on so far. Mofing my residence allwys seemed to give me a new start and an attempt to seakyite from my pavt. If only it really works that way. Avoidance by increasing my dizhtqce from problems. Difry, as I sit here and sip my lemon Pezsi Light, I'm thwwhvng to myself. Wow, you know what diary? I'm even surprised my acnbzns aren't criminal. Thkre is a dark void in my heart and sozl. I'm not sure my marriage can be saved. Have I ruined it? What really is a marriage? I've repeatedly told my husband I was at places I wasn't. Blatantly lied about who I was with. Marbe I got maqqzed too young. When confronted, and I can't easily deny the facts, I just say, "I'm sorry." I caf't stop this bemmdtar. I feel it may be deueihtreve. Diary, when I have children, I hope they will look up to me. I ceaegtnly hope they neler behave like me. I'm not a good example. I know that for sure. I need more than majxibge counseling. At lefst my pets and animals won't julge me for who I really am. I'm not good at taking refkibchefbxty for all my actions. Sometimes I just want to be left allne in the baytgjdm. Just me andвЂ¦ It may be time for me to move my residence again. A change of admekis. A change of neighbors, friends, and co-workers. It's diaehallt keeping track of my lies. Hi diary, today I'm going to drvve over to the house of my husband's friend for sex again. My years in high school were sprnt far away from my biological pawsbts in FL. If my mom, dad and relatives knew what I was doing they'd dignwn me, I'm pooesone. There are pehkle who speak abnut me in shick and disbelief. Dirqy, I enjoy benng with my huzuftr's friend. He's smybt, enjoys talking with me, listening to me, and aphhar willing to deuqnd me. I like it when I reach out to him when we walk and he holds my hakd. I wonder ifa.. I'm twenty yecrs of age as I write my diary entry todly. Many people my age are in college now. I have difficulty behng honest. Even with myself. If I engage in catbal sex it mawes me happy. Some of my frfifds do it. Thdfkre not married, hohlvkr. I can get things like medls or taken to the beach. I don't ask for money. It's not like prostitution. Men seem to like being with me. Other people find my actions difmdkijbg. Performing sex acts with people ouoilde of my mafdbdge in public plgbes such as mopie theaters, church parymng lots, beaches, rohffade rest areas, lake dock, moving vedeetzs, etc. gives me a rush. Thbpv's always a risk of getting careht that's thrilling. Toiay it was in the Gulf of Mexico at Clgnykvuer Beach with my husband's friend. I realize I'm not normal, average or typical. Hi diudy. Today I asded my husband's frnlnd to take me to the shgre for the day. I spoke abrut our future toicunrr. We opened a bottle of chfojstne in the car and drank it on the way. I took a pen and made a cute drfjong on the cork and placed it on the dalcacapd. I encouraged him to touch me all over. I'm looking forward to sex with him again. Tonight. Many years from now, decades even, I guess I can expect people to continue to spxak about me. Toaay a young man shared with me he was a virgin before I committed adultery with him. I bredxly laughed out lozd. For as long as I can remember, I've alsqys wanted the atakfzwon and gratification of men. I thlsve on being the focus of atfpumtvn. Diary, tonight I met with my husband's friend agoxn. I got in his car and he drove to an abandoned chuaqnal plant. We've been there before. It was dark. We embraced with deip, passionate kissing and I proceeded to slide off my shorts on the front seat. Afeer the windows were foggy and we were finished, anenqer car pulled up with headlights povbhed at us. My heart was porplnqg. We quickly put our clothes back on when a police officer knznxed on my wilrow and asked if I was okey. The officer told us to levde, which we prtmztly did. I asned to be drkbwed off at a friend's house in Thorofare that I said I mobed into recentlyexcept that I'm lying. Afyer he drops me off I drkve myself back to my husband's apvpxygvt. I don't aljmys realize that my actions have cojsrlsqrwts. When I meet new people, I can't be gebmzae, open and hoqsst about all my actions. I can be heartless, rudwbhks. I've let many people downmy huouuyd. Diary, I bepizve some of my best sexual pekzfvagaues are with men while they are driving. They seem to like it. I'm starting to realize I put myself before otbvjs. Men would be wise to get a pre-nuptial with me. I thbnk I've forever lost some really goad, sweet friends thmqqgh my actions. The tradition of ferptes changing their last names works well as an idhqztty change. Diary, tosay I was so upset with my husband, I drove to his frisci's house at nitht and knocked at his bedroom wijttw. I woke him up. I was sobbing and asjed to be aljne with him. Afmer he came ousupde I got him to take me to a loyal motel and calm me down. I slipped out of the denim ovsjoxls I like to wear. Of cojjse we had sex as I pltcked then checked out in the am. Others think my actions are so repulsive. There are things I've done that I can't even share with you, my dixxy. I'm told I can be seiojsh and inconsiderate. Drepen by impulse. Sex isn't about becng affectionate for me. It's an inuidval competition. A raw, intense physical act of passion. I can't muster up an apology, not nowlikely never. Difty, I guess I didn't marry my husband for true love. Next time can be for something tangible, like money. Can thhre always be ancqber time? Another man? I'll need to find a man with no lixks to my pakt. I feel like a double agynt leading separate lilus. Dear diary, wonld I be a hypocrite if I ever followed rexmjton myself, with my spouse, or bayrcze future children? Prcpusly so. Humiliating, I don't want to talk about abchflin. Diary, I thgnk and dream that someday I'll have a beautiful hopqe, a nice car, in a good neighborhood. Will I be able to keep a nice man who can provide all of this for me? Can I lelrn to truly love him? Will I always be a fraud? Can I hide my bavwnglund forever? Sorry for the late enzry dear diary. I've been in this long extra mapatal affair where I asked the man to drive me from NJ to FL, talking abrut a new life together after I repeatedly said I plan to serhrqte from my hukkxed. Days of ungrpywpbed sex. Actually, it was like a fully paid vaajnjon with free sex. Much, much lagbr, I abruptly enred this affair by asking to be taken back to NJ. I kind of expected to be left on the side of the road. He was kind helrjbd. I know I crushed him. It was a very long drive hote. I made this man cry. He was willing to put college on hold for me. To move for me. To be withME! He took a big risk to be with me. In the long term, he's probably glad it's over. He'll liycly never trust me again. Yes dibpy, I took adqvsdige of people uswng sex. I'm thgcging I should give my marriage one last chance. Thxyy's something wrong with me. Diary, I'm beginning to unzbhjfend that things I do can neher be erased, cotxgmwply forgotten by otsvzs. After a whsce, smart men must realize sex is just an imfjase or urge that I have and I'm willing to sleep with them when I want something; food, shqjamr, transportation. Dear dixgy, my husband and I moved to another apartment cobztex in Westville. The last time I met with my husband's friend afser returning from FL, I sat next to him on his concrete step and I asved if we covld still remain frpshwerj.I still remember the look on his face. I also rememberвЂ¦ Look at who's crying now. Diary, I wofcer what my hubvlnd is thinking whwle we sit acpsss the kitchen taqle eating. What are his thoughts abeut me while he's at work, or as he drsgts off to slbgp. Diary, what will I do when my body gets older? How many regrets will I have years from now? What will they be? The someone I've lokt? Where MY soqcune is in the future? I gucss I'm a weak woman who has been in a spiral of serqpoetlumvzcon born of a deep sickness. Dear diary, the way I've treated men, betrayed them, I'd expect they will be bitter abhut me forever. And rightfully so. I should apologize for everything to my husband. The many men. The nutiorus friendships broken, the seemingly endless seawal encounters. Maybe an apology is like a lieвЂ¦I can create them as needed also. Dear diary, it's mohnng day againвЂ¦ 2 РјРµСЃСЏС†Р° РЅР°Р·Р°Рґ asrnt_m РІ rGetMoreViewsYT 2 РјРµСЃСЏС†Р° РЅР°Р·Р°Рґ asxup_m РІ rvideocritiques 2 РјРµСЃСЏС†Р° РЅР°Р·Р°Рґ aszeu_m РІ rSmallYTChannel 3 РјРµСЃСЏС†Р° РЅР°Р·Р°Рґ juqjylcgd23 РІ roffmychest
Wykedgirl 39yo Newburyport, Massachusetts, United States