Old Habits Die Hard...(Part I)

I am a creature of habit. I was born with some, adopted others out of choice and stumbled onto yet some more reluctantly. But all said and done, the point I am trying to make, is that I suck at spontaneity and all that jazz. Quite simply because I like knowing or having a vague idea of where I am going, what I am doing and also at times of seemingly calm clarity and sanity (which are few and far between) who I am doing it with.
So basically I suffer from a self-imposed and self confessed OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, people!) Thus, everytime the wild streak in me takes over and I give into the mad manifestation of my alter ego...Miss 'S' lets call her...I end up with a whole bunch of stories to tell. It gives me the kind of strange and warped high that others get from a good joint. Yes, I know what that sounds like. But hey, that is my vice. Anyways, now the thing is that these brief hiatus' from my regular persona lands me in a lot of trouble.
One of them, a recurring one at that, as would obviously be the case, are the encounters of the male kind. Ah, before you rev up your imaginations and concoct dirty details I am not saying what you think I am. Rather it's that I get into the forgiving mood and readily bury the hatchet (however sordid it might've been). This tendency has led to one particular man, the often mentioned 'older man' strutting his way back into my life...

(to be continued...)