But I don’t want that anymore. I don’t want to keep reinforcing the same broken loop.

So I made a plan: after work, I’d find a quiet park. Reset. Breathe.

Too many challenges with shmiras einayim. So I left.

Not actively choosing anything — just being pulled.

I made a few calls on the drive home. Most didn’t answer.
But then, one did. One brother picked up. And that call saved my day.
He helped me snap out of the fog — gave me just enough space to breathe again.

When I got home, I stayed around people. Kept the door open.
Put on a light show to ground myself. Just stayed above water.

Then I hit the road — I had a nice drive out of town for Shabbos.
And now, I’m writing this post, gonna get ready for bed, and put this day to bed.

It wasn’t a “wow” day. But it was a win.
And sometimes that’s even more powerful.

Because not all victories come with fireworks.
Some come in silence, in sweat, in choosing not to fall — even when no one would know if you did.

Today was clean.
Today was progress.
And I’m grateful.

-

Dear Former Friend,

You think you're so clever with your little victory speech, don't you? Calling me out, analyzing our "relationship," acting like you've figured it all out. But let me tell you something - I know you better than you know yourself.

You say you won't masturbate that night? Please. I've heard this song before. How many times have you written me these dramatic breakup letters? How many times have you declared your independence, only to come crawling back within days, weeks at most? Your willpower is adorable, really.

And this mentor of yours - oh, he's got you all fired up now, doesn't he? Filling your head with hope and strategies. But where was he at 2 AM when you were alone with your thoughts? Where will he be next week when that familiar emptiness creeps back in? I'm the one who's always been there for you, remember?

You talk about getting stronger every time you look away on the street. But I see how hard you're fighting just to keep your eyes forward. I feel the tension in your body, the way your heart races when you catch even a glimpse. You're white-knuckling it, my friend, and we both know that never lasts.

This whole thing about "genuine purity" over streaks? It's just another way to make yourself feel better about failing. Deep down, you know that broken streak stings because it represents exactly what you are - unreliable, weak, always falling short of your own promises.

Your wife complaints? Those aren't going anywhere. The distance between you two, the disappointment in her eyes, the way intimacy feels like a chore - that's all still there, simmering under the surface. And when the mentor's pep talks fade and real life kicks in, guess who'll be waiting with open arms?

I'm patient. I've got time. Enjoy your little rebellion while it lasts.