I Am a Sex Addict Page #6

- Caveh, you're crazy.

- Why am I crazy?

Because you should be happy for her.

You should hope she's having a good f***.

You know, you're right. I should.

You know, I don't even

believe in monogamy.

F***, man, neither do I.

It seemed to me that I had

finally found the soul mate

that I had been searching for all my life.

Ow! What are you doing?

You see, there's this person here,

his name is Caveh.

He's real. He exists.

- You mean me?

- Yeah, I mean you.

Look, as noble as it is to try to sacrifice

yourself and your needs for her,

you have to be true to yourself

because you're real, too.

But the problem is I can't stand to hurt her.

You're hurting her more by prolonging

a relationship that isn't working

than by ending it right now.

Yeah, but I'm also scared.

I'm afraid of being lonely and horny

and desperate and always on the prowl.

I hate that.

Those don't sound like very good

reasons for staying together.

You're right.

(sighs)

I agreed with everything she said,

but I wondered whether Devin would

be able to accept my prostitute fetish

any better than Christa.

But Christa's really been trying.

I mean, I'm f***ed up, too.

Like, for example,

I have this prostitute fetish.

Big f***ing deal.

Everybody's got stuff like that.

When Devin said those words,

it suddenly struck me that it wasn't

my prostitute fetish that was the problem.

It was Christa that was the problem.

On the way back to L.A.,

I made up my mind

to break up with Christa.

We had been together for 3 years.

This is the real Christa.

For the first few years after our break-up

we weren't on the best of terms.

But now things are better between us.

She's since gotten married

and recently had a baby.

After the break-up,

I couldn't stop thinking about Devin.

For the next month,

I wrote to her every day.

And when I received an invitation

from two European film festivals,

I invited Devin to come along.

(moaning)

Our first few days together were idyllic.

But then things got more complicated.

I think she likes you.

- CAVEH:
You think?

- DEVIN:
Definitely.

I don't know. She's not really my type.

Not slutty enough.

Yeah, right.

You know, if you want to see prostitutes

while we're in Europe, feel free.

You can just go,

"Hey, Devin, catch you later,"

and go and do your thing.

You know, I was thinking

about what you said earlier,

and I just wanted to say that I really do

want to get over my prostitute fetish.

You know, I do.

But it did occur to me

that maybe if I could get you to watch

while I had sex with one,

that might be really healing for me.

Caveh, that would be so intense for me.

Really?

Yeah, it would

It's just that like a lot of it

has to do with shame,

and I think that if you were watching,

then it would be something

that we were doing together.

And then I think that might help me

to not feel so much shame about it,

and then hopefully like I wouldn't feel

the need to do it as much.

The next day we rented a car

and drove to Milan to see

Leonardo da Vinci's The Last Supper.

Hey, a prostitute!

Do you want to stop

and check her out?

I don't know.

Well, if you don't mind.

Nah, go for it.

So what do you think?

Do you wanna watch?

If it's really important to you, I will.

Thanks, Devin.

I really appreciate it.

She doesn't want you to watch.

So what do you want to do?

I don't know.

Let's just go.

Okay.

On our last day in Italy,

I saw the girl from the boardwalk again.

Her name was Paola, and it turned out

that she was an aspiring actress.

She had seen my movie and liked it.

DEVIN:
Hey.

Hey.

- How'd it go?

- Great. She gave me her shoes.

No way. Cool.

Yeah, she saw my movie. We kissed.

You kissed? Lucky you.

It was an okay kiss.

Not like yours.

Ohh.

Mm. Did you even notice

how I kept on riding

when you decided to go

and check her out?

No, I guess I didn't.

Yeah. I just wanted to point it out

'cause I don't think most girlfriends

would have done that,

just take off and let you do your thing.

Yeah, I guess you're right.

I'd just like a little appreciation,

'cause most girlfriends wouldn't stand for it,

let alone make it easier for you.

Yeah, that's true.

Thanks, Devin.

- Yeah, right.

- No, I really appreciate it.

Yeah.

- But just do me one favor, okay?

- What?

- Just one.

- Okay.

Just don't f*** her in our bed, okay?

Okay.

I was surprised that she would care,

but I chose to be touched

rather than alarmed.

Paola had invited me to have a drink

with her and her friends that night.

I had asked Devin

if she wanted to come along,

secretly hoping she would decline.

But she didn't decline.

I couldn't decide where to sit,

I wanted to sit next to Paola,

but I felt I should sit next to Devin.

I decided to compromise

by sitting next to neither,

thereby remaining equidistant from both,

like Christ in da Vinci's

The Last Supper.

I'm going to head back to the hotel.

I'll see you later.

Don't you want to go swimming?

No. Why don't you go

with your Italian friend?

I'd rather go with you.

Nah, go with her.

See ya.

Are you sure

you don't want to swim naked?

Yes, I'm sure.

No, it'll be fun.

- No.

- Really.

Are you sure you don't want

to sleep together?

Yes, I'm sure.

But maybe when you come to Torino.

Great, I'll probably be old by then.

I'll write to you.

(sighs)

Okay.

And if ever you need someone

to act in one of your movies,

just give me a call.

That was the line

that made me hate myself.

Okay.

I felt like a sleazy

Hollywood film director.

On the way home, I had

a nightmarish vision of my future.

I saw myself 20 years later,

aging and still alone.

By the time I got back to the hotel,

I was feeling empty and depressed.

All I wanted was to get into bed

and snuggle up next to Devin.

Devin!

Devin!

- So did you f*** her?

- No, I didn't.

Why not? She wanted you.

Not enough, apparently.

Well, I almost f***ed somebody.

Who?

Some dude that I met in a bar.

Here.

Sorry.

I felt jealous and insecure,

but I wanted to believe

that Devin and I were engaged

in a high-minded experiment

in self-transcendence.

The next day we flew to Munich.

(groaning)

F***, I've got such a f***ing hangover.

Excuse me, miss,

can I have a scotch, please?

- STEWARDESS:
One scotch?

- Yeah.

- I thought you had a hangover.

- I do. That's why I need a drink.

Is that a good idea?

It's the only way.

It's true.

I know what I'm doing.

Okay.

But this is my last drink.

I promise.

You promised you weren't

going to drink anymore.

Well, the guy kept buying me beers.

I couldn't really turn him down.

- Why not?

- Free beers, man.

It was starting to dawn on me

that Devin had a drinking problem.

Now, I should probably explain

that the actress playing Devin

had a drinking problem in real life.

(humming)

(laughs)

The cause of and answer to

all of life's problems.

But getting back to the story...

(TV playing)

Devin, stop it. You said that was

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