I Am a Sex Addict Page #2

with enthusiasm by the film world.

(indistinct)

To remedy this situation,

I had recently written a script

about the French poet Arthur Rimbaud

which I was convinced

would revolutionize cinema...

... and which Caroline insisted it would

be easy to raise money for in France.

It will be easy to raise money

for this in France.

But moving to France

turned out to be a disaster.

Most of the film producers I approached

wouldn't even talk to me.

The few that did

just told me that I was nobody.

Meanwhile, my relationship

with Caroline had started to unravel.

(crying)

Caroline was insanely jealous of Anna

and would cry hysterically

whenever I would write her a letter

or talk to her on the phone.

Hi, how are you doing?

I was starting to feel trapped,

and it was hard not to blame Caroline

for having gotten in the way

of my relationship with Anna.

And then one day,

I got a letter from Anna

saying that she was going

to be in Amsterdam

and asking

if I would like to meet her there.

(crying)

I was ecstatic.

I felt that I was finally being given a chance

to get back together with Anna.

But Caroline knew that if I left

I would never come back,

so she decided to jump out a window.

The thought of being responsible

for her death

- was way more guilt than I could handle.

- (siren wails)

- Caroline! Caroline!

- No! No!

(grunting)

So I agreed never to see Anna again.

It was by far the most

painful decision I ever made.

But I did it because years

of going to Sunday school

had taught me to equate virtue

with sacrifice.

- Can I come down?

- MAN:
One more time.

I should probably also explain

that when I was in college

I had once asked my friend Arnold...

(coughs)

What's your, like, ultimate goal in life?

And he had said...

To be a saint.

I'd been blown away by his answer...

... and I decided that I too

would try to become a saint.

Which is why,

when Caroline asked me

to cut all ties with the only person

I had ever truly loved,

I agreed.

(ting)

When I found out much later

that Anna had gotten married

to someone else,

I was devastated.

I had still been secretly hoping that Caroline

and I would eventually break up

and that Anna and I

would one day get back together.

But now I realized that it was really over.

I tried my best to transcend my feelings

and to resign myself

to a life of quiet desperation.

But the truth is I was incredibly angry.

I was angry at God,

I was angry at Caroline,

and I was angry at myself.

But mostly I was angry at Caroline.

And then one day

I was walking down the street

when I saw... this prostitute.

There was something about her

that turned me on in a way

that I had never been turned on before.

It was as if I had been hypnotized.

And then I suddenly found myself saying

something that I had never said before.

I said the words...

Now, I should probably explain that I had

always considered myself a feminist

and had even marched

in an anti-pornography rally once.

Which is why

when I suddenly found

myself saying the words...

...I half expected the prostitute

to run screaming...

(gasps)

... or to slap me in the face.

The fact that she didn't,

but smiled instead and said...

... made my head spin.

Afterwards, I was a nervous wreck.

I couldn't get her out of my mind.

- CAROLINE:
Hi.

- Hi.

I thought that if I masturbated,

I would get her out of my system.

But it didn't work.

So after several days

of compulsive masturbation,

I decided that I needed a new strategy.

You see, I knew that she was

just a regular person.

But in my mind, I had somehow made her

into an image of erotic salvation.

(harp music plays)

And it seemed that the only way to get her

off the erotic pedestal that I had put her on

was to have a real conversation with her.

Unfortunately, she wasn't there.

I was mad at myself for having wasted

so many hours of my day,

but I didn't want to leave empty-handed.

I asked that same question to every

prostitute that was there that day.

I might even have asked

some of them twice.

Afterwards, I felt strangely euphoric.

And I returned home feeling that I had

finally gotten this thing out of my system.

(moaning)

But I was wrong.

Instead of fantasizing

about just the one prostitute,

I was now fantasizing about all of them.

I went back the next day...

and the next day...

and the next.

At first it was enough just to talk to them...

... and to fantasize

about them afterwards.

(moaning)

But after a while, just talking to them

was no longer enough.

Now, I know that a lot of guys

in my situation

would have just gone ahead

and had sex with the prostitute

and not told their wife about it.

But I had this thing about honesty.

You see, when I was a kid,

my mother found out that my father

had been cheating on her

and made him drive my sister and me

to this other woman's apartment

in order to humiliate him in front of us.

I was too young to know what sex was,

but I knew that it was a very bad thing

and that it was responsible

for my parents' divorce.

I was only eight years old at the time,

but I began to hate my father.

And I vowed to myself

that I would never be like him.

(crying)

You know, if you really need

to see a prostitute, you can.

I don't want to see a prostitute.

I want to try to resist.

But I think I need your help.

What do you want me to do?

I just need to be able to talk to you.

I think if I can talk to you about it,

I'll be less tempted,

and it'll be easier for me to resist.

You can talk to me about it.

I can?

Of course.

Ohh.

God, I feel so much better.

Are you tempted to have

intercourse with a prostitute

or just to get a blow job?

Oh, no. Just get a blow job.

I would never want to have intercourse

with one. That would gross me out.

- Really?

- Oh, yeah.

You're the only person I'd ever want

to have intercourse with.

You promise?

Yeah, I promise.

Is there anything I can do

to make you less tempted?

Maybe if you could give me

blow jobs more often?

I don't mind.

I can even give you a blow job

right now if you like.

Okay.

I felt guilty accepting her offer,

but I thought it might be a good idea.

(moans)

I was still fantasizing

that she was a prostitute,

but the fact that she knew

and accepted this part of me

made it different than before.

It made it something we were sharing,

something that we were doing together.

And I felt that I was seeing Caroline

for the first time.

(moaning)

After I came, I was still hard.

This was something that had

never happened to me before.

It was as if my no longer

having to repress my sexuality

had suddenly unleashed a backlog

of repressed sexual energy.

So Caroline offered to give me

another blow job.

(moaning loudly)

To my astonishment, I was still hard.

So Caroline offered to give me

yet another blow job.

(moaning loudly)

Afterwards, I was still hard.

I had never seen anything like it,

and I actually started to get scared.

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