In my personal life I have had a few trials. People I live with are trying to push the way they think I should be down my throat. I need to do this to succeed. I need to do this to get a girlfriend. I need to do this to have future. I need is a word that I hear a lot. I need to do what they say to become more like them. I respond well to ultimatums. I comply and make my own choices. I comply because not complying has some bad consequences. One is my friend from years ago and I know he has my best interests at heart most of the time. He has his own interests at his heart all the time and his wife is an enigma to me. As far as I can tell she alternately hates me and likes me and I can't tell what will happen to make either one. Anyways mostly. My friend knows that a happy wife is a happy life, so there is conflict.
This week something happened that nearly ended it all. I mean, everything, twenty years of friendship included, but cooler heads prevailed, barely.
I live in the basement and the shower I use is the kids bathroom, upstairs. The other adults have their own private bathroom. Fine. I try not to use it, because it means passing through their bedroom. I can count how often I have used it on one hand. I pass by their bedroom every day, twice a day and I don't even look in because, even though the door is always open, nothing in there concerns me.
This week I was heading to the shower and I happened to be facing their bedroom door which was wide open, and she came out of their bathroom not dressed and I caught an eye full as I ran to the bathroom.
I am a man, she is a woman and I did not ever want to see her that way ever. Even though she wears a lot of cleavage showing clothes and bends over a lot, I don't look. Actually I don't look at any woman doing the bend over with cleavage. The words not interested come to mind.
When I came down after my shower she was talking to my friend. I was not going to bring it up, I was waiting for them to bring it up. They were talking quietly, but I could hear her words. Pervert. She is extremely neurotic. So I had every reason to worry.
Pervert. I imagine words crafted around that word. I will not have that pervert in my house any longer. I know that my friend would, who was much quieter, would say that it was an accident and that was not something that was planned. But a happy wife is a happy life. I was looking at total doom.
Let us assume for the moment that she looks like a supermodel. What positive thing did I just get, something I could see on the Internet given a one second search and more. But hers. What would I be losing by planning to snatch a look: twenty years of friendship, the roof over my head, a black eye, bloodied nose, other friends, the police being called, a sudden change of location including town and city.
I would do anything to unsee what I saw. Stick a burning brand in my eye. Things are almost back to normal. I am still avoiding her, we have had a couple of conversations. I still sense something unresolved, but something that we three have agreed to not mention ever, without actually saying anything.
If it came down to it, I would have explained to her nudity does not turn me on. I am not interested in naked women, not even naked supermodels. It is consent that turns me on. I want you to see this. I want to be with you. A naked body is just a body. A body wrapped in two feet thick of wool or steel sheet metal who wants me, is a much bigger turn on than a naked body. Does she not understand that?
Pervert, let's jump to pervert. I hate you for that. I will never forget.
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