Help Help Me Rhonda

Today I was a good girl, I went to class for 3 entire loathsome hours.
I am pretty good at concentrating on the material being presented for
the first fifty minutes or so, then the mind inevitably wanders. Sex,
food, food, sex, sleep, coffee, sex, chocolate, sex, sex, sex, food,
sleep, coffee, sex, chocolate and onward we go. The worst part about
these things is that they are not immediately fulfillable when your
ankles are bound to the chair legs and your wrists tied to the arm
rests and your eyes super glued open and fixated upon a poorly dressed
professor. So, I feel imprisoned and as if being in class is not a
choice but a requirement and therefore my mind decides that such
terrible deprivations of freedom and liberty are in no way worthwhile.

So, one can imagine that the thought of a life whose course will be
decided, determined, and dictated by others is inherently at odds with
my fundamental mental composition. In the end, such a life would feel
more like an employment opportunity than it would an actual existence.
I have never been accomplished at giving in and I think a life
comprised entirely of compromises at my expense would be
dehabilitating to mind and spirit. To some extent, I do recognize the
need of some men to have a companion who is accomplished, educated,
articulate, but submissive. It is role that I could play, but not one
where I would find personal reward and satisfaction. I suppose I may
be underestimating the course that this relationship could take, but I
nonetheless feel that my livelihood would be deferred to satisfy a
political or economic goal when the conflict came. And even if it
never came down to that point, I would have to live everyday
consciously aware that I am and always would be second.

To accept such circumstances would fly in the face of everything I
have ever learned about life. And yet, it is still so tempting. My
insecurities tell me that it might be my only chance at a life most
people don't dare dream of, that despite the arrangement being less
than desirable it is entirely secure and nearly foolproof. The
equation is so simple, too simple. Real life includes wrong answers
and revisions, this would not. There is no room for error or
miscalculation. I can't deal with that.

I ran into another ex-boyfriend today and for a second I allowed
myself to believe that these chance meetings were a sign of something.
But then I remember, it is the human mind, not some mysterious force,
that draws lines between such tentative dots. But at this point, I am
looking for a signal from just about everything. I need someone to
tell me what I already know I need to do.