10-20-2017, 09:54 PM
I remember that day fondly. I still look back on it, think about it, reflect on it. I remember that night like it was yesterday, and it was several years ago.
A lifetime ago.
I am a different person because of what happened that night. I am not necessarily a better person, but I am not worse either. I am just me. It defined me in a lot of ways. I know who I am because of it. I know what lies inside this flesh, what comprises this body I inhabit. It isn't like Micheal Graves, who has no clue who he truly is. I don't struggle with it, like he does. I embrace it. Hate it or love it, I am who I am.
Sometimes I hate it.
Sometimes I love it.
Either way, I don't give a fuck what you think.
CONTINUED
I had gotten her up to her room, one hand clutcing the banister the entire way. Her room was nice, as was the rest of the house, with posters of pop stars on the wall and expensive-looking furniture. In the back of my mind I wondered how sturdy her springs were.
She asked me to help her get her pants off as she was fumbling with the zipper. I did. She had blue underwear on. She managed to get her shirt off. She got into bed. She passed out almost instantly.
She was an easy target. She wouldn't even know. I could be in and out in 20 minutes, and nobody but me would know. I knew I had an extra condom in my pocket. No evidence.
My hand touched her leg. It was smooth, clearly freshly washed/shaven.
I ran my hand up her leg, rubbing the outside of her underwear. It would be so easy to slide them off. She was dead to the world.
Just then, I made a decision that will stay with me for the remainder of my existence........
I turned around, walked to her door, turned her light off and shut the door...............
On my way out.
I walked down the stairs and outside, into the Florida night. I had no idea where I was, how far I was from home, and I didn't have my own car. I left it in Ybor.
I called taxis. Nobody answered. My watch said it was 3:35 am. No cabs wanted to come all the way out here. I didn't have a choice, I had to call. I had shut her front door, so now I was locked out.
A sense of panic came over me. How the hell was I getting home? Why didn't I just pass out in her bed, even if I didn't touch her. Or sleep on her couch?
I dialed again. No answer.
FUCK
I threw my phone onto the grass in frustration.
It wasn't until an hour later when a stranger was leaving for work and saw me walking down the road, really not knowing where I was going.
He gave me a ride back to Ybor.
That day I was proud of myself. I felt good. I felt like I did the right thing. When my boys asked me the next day what happened--seeing me leave, and seeing me get into her car--I told them exactly what happened, no reason to lie.
Do you know what they told me?
They called me a pussy. They told me I should have hit that when I had the chance. They told me I lost a step. They told me I wasn't the greatest anymore. They told me I should hang it up and go home. That I should go for lesser girls, she was obviously out of my league.
Sound familiar?
Yes. It should. Love me or hate me. I know who I am, and I know what choices I make.
When I step into that ring, I am going to do the right thing again. I am going to rid the world of Micheal Graves forever.
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