Romantic Fantasy Addiction Kicked my Butt
And what I did about it
There I was lying on the couch conjuring up romantic scenarios involving me and a certain young man I met salsa dancing who I’ll call Javier. Hot Javier, which in Spanish is an alliteration. Not so much handsome as cute, a decent dancer, who somehow got under my skin.
And not just mine. One of my dancer friends had dated him on and off. She was hooked on him too. He was all over the dance floor and all over the ladies. He knew the effect he had on us and played it for all he was worth.
Javier also drank to excess. So much so that our first and only passionate kiss got rudely interrupted when the contents of his stomach needed to get some fresh air.
I’d been in recovery a short while. I still went dancing on Thursday nights at the Caribee in downtown Oakland where I might run into him.
And on Friday nights, I went to my Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous (SLAA) meeting and shared about being obsessed with seeing him. If he was there, we’d dance about three dances and then he’d move on while I got triggered.
But if he wasn’t there, I’d stay till they closed in the hopes he might show up. Intermittent reward is highly addictive. Ask any compulsive gambler. So those nights where I didn’t see him messed me up even…
