I dont understand my weekends...

I get home late on Saturday evening, drink a pint bottle of perry I had in the fridge from a few weeks ago, and chat with Wifey. She's more interested in CSI or NCIS or whatever... It doesn't really interest me. I'm tired and I could do with going to bed - but decide to wait up until we can go to bed together. Meanwhile I check the emails, post something devastatingly witty on Facebook, Twitter a bit -basically waste time.
She comes in, and says she has a headache. A headache so appallingly bad that the sound of my voice is pure agony. I'm not shouting, just saying something like "are you OK?" - but its torture for her. I don't know where the headache came from, but there was no evidence of it while we were watching telly... Unsurprisingly my attempts to cuddle up to her were fought off like I was a Zulu impi and she was defending Rourke's Drift.

So I spent a lot of Sunday on my own, the joy of walking round town and Tescos... A little sleep... Golf on the telly...

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After saving the first half of this post "Bad Man Mode" kicked in. That's the name I give the feeling I get when I can't resist, and I mean I really can't resist doing stuff I know isn't going to help my head, or my relationship.
I start looking at the porn sites, texting people I know flirt a bit too much, looking for any opportunity to misbehave... and to make things worse, I can't find a chance to get myself off and calm down. I'm never alone enough to get rid of the feelings.
So they feed on themselves or on me - circling round like sharks at a shipwreck.
I so want to do the bad stuff.
But there's this bit in me that doesn't want to get caught because that will hurt everyone. So I bottle out. I play safe. I store it up and try to cope without...
And all the time what I want is to find someone to play with. Someone who wont want anything else than some pleasure, fun, mutuality, who wont judge me for feeling this way, or spoil things for me.

Or perhaps I just need to get the nerve to make the jump I should. To quit the normal family life I have and go it alone for my own sake. Then these feelings wouldn't matter - would they?

Either way, it hurts.