Diary of a Sex Addict by Scott Alexander Hess

Author:Scott Alexander Hess [Hess, Scott Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: JMS Books LLC
Published: 2011-09-11T04:00:00+00:00

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The afternoon’s lurid cathedral horror has left me in an odd state. I’m sitting at home in the dark. My iPhone is off as I doze on the sofa. In the shadow near the hissing radiator pole I see a rat. It scoots out, sits on the floor, then scurries on little legs under my large glass-door paneled bookcase. The brutal winter wind is pressing at my window and I hear again the high-pitched squeal of frigid air blowing. I rub my eyes and sit up. The rat is under my Crate & Barrel, very expensive, yet-to-be-paid-for bookcase. A few months ago I threw a used condom under there and left it as a badge of perversion. I wonder if the rat will eat it.

I stand up and know, in my softer mind, that there is no rat. I am half-dreaming. It’s not possible. Yet, I cannot go look under the bookcase afraid of both the imaginary vermin and the dead condom which must be hard and yellow like a brittle leaf. I’ve been sleeping most of the afternoon.

I try to make out, in the mix of sounds coming at me, the distinction between the harsh outside wind, my hissing radiator, a slight buzzing in my head and a gnawing sound, which of course would be the imaginary rat. The fact is that, in my apartment, I often hear strange noises, but always late at night. Never during the day. At night, I am usually waiting for a sex date, feeling safe and cocooned in a fantasy of what he will look like. Will he be hot? Will something dangerous happen? This stirring in my mind, in the dark night, makes the noises I hear unimportant. The door slam of a neighbor several floors below, a crash that I imagine is a cat knocking over a trash can, the typical siren, the beat of music from a party or a car passing. It’s all background to my racing mind, my sex mind that will soon send me to stand butt naked at the door, peeping through the door hole, waiting for my appointment to arrive. But that’s deep into the night, not mid-afternoon. And I’ve never imagined the sound of a rat chewing.

I have not even made it through one full day of this celibacy thing and I am imagining rats and small girls being beheaded in front of Lord & Taylor.

I am suddenly very tired so I lie back down on the sofa, realizing if I just crawl on my hands and knees and look under the bookcase my anxiety will pass. But I can’t. I rest on the sofa and glimpse a blue haired rat climbing out of my black hole as I drift off to sleep.

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