Tag Archives: history

Worst Friend Ever

30 Jan

Fifteen years ago. You gazed into my eyes and asked me if I’d ever felt destined to meet someone

Somewhat later on: you were drunk and told me you felt people needed more snuggling.

A little later on I noted you getting all hot with a visitor. Interesting. You had your guy stuff at each other.

Okay. No problem at all.

Then a few years later a different manager was after your ass. 

You played her gently. 


You ran me off.

Michael, you’re still trying to keep in touch with me and blame me for everything because Miep is of course insane.

I’m bored of this. 

I love you. I want you to be happy.

So can you just go work on doing this without me?

I’m really tired.


You From The Past

3 Apr

You From The Past

Yeah, I remember you too. I remember what experiences and insights you gave me. Thanks. You’ll be part of me until I die. Promise. You were a good friend.

But sometimes it just doesn’t work out in the long run. I’ve been on the other end of this. It hurts. Sometimes it hurts terribly for a long time.

But sometimes it just can’t get fixed. Sometimes there is just no other choice than to move on.

And it’s not at all always about sex. I think it’s worst when it’s not about sex.

I’ve been on both sides of this. It never occurred to me that I could ever be seen by anyone as being obsessed with that person in an unseemly manner, to the point where he took to finding me alarming.

This was a platonic friendship that went south.

Why? Because I live in a culture that hates outliers. Because he does, too. Because he hates himself.

There was no need for this. We could have been friends, if it wasn’t for the cultural meddling. 

The meddling about how it’s unhealthy to be celibate.

The meddling that says it’s okay to viciously tease men for being celibate.

The culture that cannot keep its brain out of everybody’s underwear. 

The culture that relentlessly tells women that it’s not okay for them to have sexual boundaries, the culture that keeps saying humans are mostly, primarily about sexual aggression, and that all rules of conduct derive from this.

Girls and boys, pain for both.

I grew up innocent and hopeful. I thought sex would be some kind of thing that would somehow be explained or grow on me or in some manner, be announced.

I got assaulted a lot. Nobody ever asked permission.

It would have been nice if anybody ever asked permission.

Years later I had a few consensual sexual relationships. It was easy. I did not need any advice, the guys did not need any advice as to How To Do It.

We worked out how to do it. We found each other, we got to know each other, we consensually decided happily to have sex. That was Good, that was all right. 

It didn’t last in either of these cases, for either of these fellows, with me. One went mad and lost, another wound up hooked up with a lady artist in Vancouver. Good on them and much love. Sorrow about my first guy. He deserved better. He still haunts me. 

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