you ever been with a guy…not really a boyfriend…just some guy & you’re messing around with him & maybe he’s just given you some pretty lackluster oral & now he expects you to return the favor but instead of asking he just starts pushing your head towards his crotch?
and you wish you could say, “hey! motherfucker, use your words. i’m a person, not a sex toy,” but instead you just play dumb until he gets all frustrated & pitches a fit like a demented toddler, muttering “it takes two to tango” reminding me of my psychotic school bus driver….
and is there anything scarier than naked adult male anger when all you want is to feel safe & valued? don’t you just want to go back in time to protect younger, dumber you? to kick those assholes in the balls & say, “who the fuck are you to treat me like this?”
this came pouring out of me at 2am this morning when i was trying to fall asleep. twenty-four years after it happened.
why did i contact him again? why did i still think of him as a “good guy” despite my most vivid memory of him being his yelling, “it takes two to tango!” when i didn’t want to suck his cock?
why do i convince myself–why do i second guess myself–why do i tell myself it’s no big deal when it is?
like when my boyfriend punched the wall so hard he broke his hand because i wasn’t having as much sex with him as he wanted?
at least he wasn’t punching me–right?
at least he wasn’t raping me–right?
so i tolerate it? i spin it in my head. say, “he didn’t mean it. he was just ___” fill in the blank with whatever will convince you to stay when you really really should go.
i had a dream that i was in a deranged & dangerous building that has been a regular dream location. however, in this dream the other night, i knew it was the last time i would be there. hopefully the building represented toxic men.
8X10 inking on watercolor paper