Sunday, 5/25/14 at 19:27.
It’s been about a month since I had sex (the last time was with Anissa). I can’t seem to get myself to fuck someone else, because I’m still hooked on the pipe dream that Anissa and I might somehow get back together. But a month is a very long time for me, and probably explains why I’ve been so horny lately. A few hours ago, as Lily and I were saying goodbye at the end of our therapy session, I was breathtakingly close to pulling her in for a hug. Her breasts seemed particularly perky at that moment – maybe because she was pushing them out a little (I couldn’t tell for sure) – and there was something powerfully inviting about her twinkling blue eyes and pouty lips. Somehow I continued resisting the temptation, but when I got home, I just couldn’t stop thinking about sex, imagining the two of us stepping back into her office, closing the door, and ravenously flouting whatever taboos or ethical concerns had been holding us back all this time as we stripped each other and fucked.
To relieve my pent-up desire, I was extremely tempted to call one of my standbys – Elise, Raegan, Maya, or one of the others. It’s been only about a month since I stopped responding to their regular Facebook and text messages, inquiring about my availability to see them, so it would probably still be easy to have one of them come over, even on the spur of the moment.
But I’ll hold out a bit longer, until I can check in with Anissa. I’ve been so tempted to text or email her, but had to stop myself each time, out of an abundance of caution. After all, if she didn’t answer, or if the conversation didn’t go well, she could later claim that I retaliated against her with a lower grade, unless I give her an A. That was prudent planning on my part because, given how she did on her final exam, unfortunately I can’t in good conscience give her that grade. While the final exam is graded anonymously, I still prefer to err on the side of caution and avoid any possible accusation or appearance of impropriety. And that means that I can’t contact her at all until she has her grade.
I do wonder if she still thinks of me and whether she’s really with Michael now, or if she purposely had him pick her up from the last two lectures of my course just to get back at me somehow. Both of them (and their political efforts) have been on my mind quite a lot lately – probably because of two major news stories that I recently read.
The first was a captivating story about a young woman’s gripping ordeal – watching her relatives gunned down, killing and fleeing her kidnapper, only to be abducted again before finally being released when her ransom was paid by the MCA. The article didn’t state the poor woman’s name, for her security, but it did mention that she had moved from Raqqa to Kessab, only to have to flee that Armenian village when it came under attack by Islamists, so I’m almost positive that she is Anissa’s sister. I felt terrible for the woman, and the fact that she might be the sister of Anissa, who herself has suffered so much, made it that much worse: “how much misfortune can a single family sustain?” I thought to myself, shaking my head in pity.
The second article, an in-depth feature about the MCA, Michael, and some of those working closely with him (including Anissa), provided extensive details about all of their important efforts in Syria, and what they’ve managed to accomplish thanks to the generous support of an anonymous donor. I couldn’t help smiling when I read that, as if this whole thing was our little secret. I also felt genuinely glad to have made such a difference to so many people who desperately needed some help and support but weren’t getting it from a world that has been shamefully indifferent.
Then, I thought about how this distressed asset deal just earned JMAT a few hundred million dollars, which means that, after the fund gets its share of that profit, and after the tax that I’ll have to pay on my personal gain, I’m probably about twenty million dollars richer than I was yesterday. So why not give half of that to a good cause? What else would I do with the money? The economic law of diminishing marginal returns applies as much to wealth as anything else – which is why very wealthy people need to make vastly greater sums of additional money for the gains to feel good.
The more I think about my psychology as it relates to this particular scenario, the more I’m convinced that I would probably derive greater psychic benefit out of keeping ten million dollars and giving away the other ten million to such a good cause, than I would get out of keeping all twenty million for myself. And, on the off-chance that Anissa might forgive me, I’d be transmitting a very positive message, and the ultimate sign of strength and confidence: I’m so comfortable with who I am that I can be generous even to those who spite me, out of heartbreak, jealousy, or any other reason.
Whether Anissa and Michael have been playing me for my money or that’s just some paranoid notion that I’ve conjured up in my own head, they’ll be very grateful for this. More importantly, by being above any sort of petty grudges, maybe I can reintroduce some good karma into the air. And if nothing comes of it in terms of Anissa and me, I’ll still have done a good thing. If nothing else, maybe it’ll make Anissa feel a little better about the grade I unfortunately have to give her, based on her final exam.