Potty Chair

I slide my feet away from you and push the blanket down in an effort not to disturb you as I get out of bed. I don’t want to get up. I want to stay in bed and cuddle up next to you. But, I’m wide awake and you are tired. Plus nature calls relentlessly for me. Mr Colon doesn’t really listen to me. Sometimes he does mostly he doesn’t. Tonight, he becons. Your body is warm, your presence is comforting. I think it has been ever since I met you.

I slide the computer down the bed toward my feet and lift the sheets off of myself and tuck them lightly under your sexy, amazing, exciting, erotic, beautiful, round: fun to rub kiss, lick, touch, downright Incredible butt that I love so much.I could squeeze it all day.

Ah yes back to where I need to go, the potty chair. I proceed down the hallway in darkness closing the doors as quietly as possible. I need to put a couple of those bumpers on the door to our room like we have on Ofelia’s room. Its much easier to close her door quietly. Our door no matter how hard I try seems to make noise when I close it. You are such a light sleeper and the smallest noise disturbs you.

I arrive at last to my potty chair and I don’t have to wait long before the task is complete. Its a pretty typical event for me. I’ve gotten used to doing many things in the bathroom. I’ll eat my breakfast there. I surf the internet on my laptop. Sometimes if I’m tired I can even put my head down and take a little nap as well. Just one of those things I have grown to accept as a reality of my life and I am happier for it.

The one that got away

You stir, I see you closing your book and laying down. You turn to your left side and pull the sheet up over you and snuggle into the bed (maybe you didn’t snuggle into the bed). I lean over and put my arm around you put my face to your head. There is a faint scent there that is you but mostly, I smell the chemicals in your hair just like I smelled chemical under the sink (I think its that oven cleaner under the sink we’ll see if it stops smelling under there). Chemical is a distinct smell and all chemicals share it. Its very navy. I have never liked it’s smell. I assumed that was just the way your hair smelled when I met you. It wasn’t until I had known you for awhile that I grew to understand it was the relaxer in your hair causing it. I don’t know anything about hair and can’t really say much about it. I know what I like though. I sure like you with your hair shorter.

That time Jesus cut your hair shorter I so loved it. I’m not sure if you really believed me at the time or not but, it was no lie. I know you like to hide your beautiful face and I so try to help you with that but, nothing I say helps. My words fall on deaf ears. Maybe not deaf… You hear me, you believe me.. But its not true for you and I wish it were. I feel more handsome around you. I felt so ugly as a teenage kid. Zits all over my face (felt like it), not that I ever did anything about it. I needed to wash my face and take care of it and I’m sure it would have been fine but I never did. Occationaly I’d start to wash it before bed but it would never last. You make me feel like it doesn’t matter what I look like you will still find me handsome. Least I hope you do. I hope that I help you feel love. (more tears they don’t burn this time, probably the sunscreen, guess thats why you covered my eyes when you sprayed it on my face this morning.) Always avoiding the tears I see… They start to appear and suddenly I am thinking about something else and they dry up. Why do I fear crying? Do I fear it? really? crying? What is there to be afraid of? The ugly cry? Vulnerability? Weakness? All of the above?

Corvette

“The tires let go in first and in second right there”.

“Doesn’t it have traction control to stop it from doing that?”

“Yes that helps but it still breaks loose.”

He are on our way to lunch. We could go to dennys or some other sit down type place but, I don’t have the time for that. So instead we’ll just go to arbys. I don’t eat there very much anymore so it will be a nice change from the usual plain cheeseburger I eat for lunch.

He’s telling me all about his new corvette. How it has five hundred and some odd horsepower and does zero to sixty in 4.8 seconds and his old one was like 5.6. He had some kind of exhaust bypass system installed. Hit a button on a remote and it bypasses the baffles some of the muffler and gives you more power and makes the car louder. It’s not something I ever pay much attention too, I nod a lot and try to  appear interested in what he’s saying. He’s always talking about his car when we get in it. “Its really rough though, the 405 is a terrible freeway and it just beats this car up”. Doesn’t matter if it’s his vette or an SUV. There is something about the car he’s going to talk about. None of them are vehicles I forsee being able to afford. I can’t say I would buy one even if I could afford it. New cars are about the worse use of money there is. Drive it off the lot and you’ve lost 10% already.

We enter arbys and order a couple of your basic roast beef sandwich meals and sit down to eat. It’s not an out of the ordinary conversation for us. He’s asking me about my sister and how is she doing now that she’s married.

“I don’t really know but, she seems happy.”  She choose the man she wants to be with and everyone else is going to take a back seat in her life now. Whether or not that is going to help her remains to be seen. I still believe that her mind is very unbalanced. She is constantly swinging her pendulum back and forth. Constantly fighting herself internally and those mental battles affecting her present life. She has a great deal in common with her new husband and they share many of the same crutches to deal their issues. I figure they will either help each other find peace in their minds. Or they will drag each other into oblivion, I suspect the latter will become reality. Either way there is little I can do to help either one of them at this point.

History tells me that what she is doing isn’t going to work long term and her mind will break just like our mothers mind. Mom and all of her sisters are all very unbalanced. Constantly fighting depression and other issues stemming from bad decisions. I see many of the same behaviors in her that I saw in my mom. Right now she has found god and is on the I’m a believer bandwagon. Everything is “god has a plan” “gods will” etc etc. It didn’t seem to help mom much when she found god and I don’t expect it to help her either. I could turn out to be wrong and in fact I hope that I am. It would be very nice if she could find balance and happiness in her life for a change. I’d rather not see her wind up on the slab before her time. Although what does that even mean? When your time is up then your time is up. Is there even such a thing as before ones time?

He agrees with me and thinks that I’m correct in my assessment of my sister and her life. Tells me that he was surprised when she paid him back some money that he loaned her. I said that shes pretty reliable in the money department. Shes never had much difficulty in making money. She is just horrible at managing it. Somehow she always makes enough money that she can be horrible at managing it and still be ok. If she actually made middle income or less, then she would have a different life. Quite possibly a better life.

We return to his very expensive home to find his computer still working after I worked on it. His display was going all screwy and putting strange lines on the screen and the like. I suspect that in the end it has hardware problems and is just going to die before long. I reset his non volatile memory and that seemed to clear the problem up for now but, usually that kind of thing winds up being a temporary improvement if it does anything at all. Which, most of the time it does nothing. “All we can do now is just wait and see what happens and hopefully it’s fixed and the problem won’t happen again”. He thanks me and professes, as he usually does, about how I’m the best person he knows for this kind of thing. It’s a compliment which is nice but, I can’t say I get very much out of it. I can’t even say for certain how much I really care about him. Yes he’s nice enough and he likes me and appreciates my talents but, I don’ t feel as though I really have anything in common with him. He reminds me of another friend I had in high school, Chris. Chris loved to point out all his stuff and talk about it as something to be proud of. Yes your daddy bought you a speaker and you had the guys at the stereo store install it. Yes you got a new computer yes you got a new coat. yes yes yes you have lots of great stuff. You have money that’s nice. I’m not impressed by the stuff you bought and use. Tell me something you actually did with the stuff you bought if you want to impress me. He feels more like someone I maintain a relationship with because there is potential for something else there. Not really sure what that may be. For now I get back into my cheap ass reliable little car and head back to work.

Dads Dresser

My colon is grumbling I’m sure I need to sit on the potty chair. I’m so comfortable though and you seem like you may have finally gone to sleep, I don’t want to disturb you. Relax colon relax the potty chair is right there 10 feet away you don’t need to do this now. It can wait for later.

You seem to do relatively ok now that I don’t pump you full of drugs. None of that crap really helped especially not in the long run. Dad had it too and it was always getting worse and his dresser was a stockpile of medicine. Who the hell knew what all that crap was. Man dad’s dresser aint gone there in awhile. LONG while.. Its wood and painted solid white. It has some kind of carpet piece on top of it I think. The TV sits on the corner and faces the bed, little black and white thing. Left front corner is all the bottles of medicine. There is a box of some kind that sits on the back left. One of those boxes you put ring or a watch into mens jewelery box I guess. Who knows whats in there since its got so much stuff on it hard to get into it. I’m sure his wedding ring is in there. I don’t recall ever seeing it on his finger. I think he gave up pretty early. I’m sure I’ve looked in it before and that’s where I noticed his ring sitting.

I’ve gone through his whole dresser at one point or another. Not all that much of interest in his dresser really. Mostly his clothing folded into nice little organized piles and in perfect order. The bottom drawer had one of those karma sutra books of some kind. Had a few naked pictures in it but was all black and white. Not that much too look at when you are a teen. Plus I had access to much more adult content than that.

He did have “the Polaroid” of mom wrapped in a towel in his drawer. Although I seem to recall there being two Polaroids in the drawer one of him and one of her. I’m not sure I get the point. I could swear there was more wrapped in the towel than just those two pictures though. I just can’t recall what else was there. I don’t really recall them ever doing much in the sex department. I’m sure that probably all relates to his not wearing his ring. Whatever triggered that response probably broke things permanently. It just took a number of years to make it all final. I wonder if mom knew he had those in his dresser?