I have an inappropriate relationship in my life. Well, in the periphery of my life. Yesterday I had to get the key to someone’s apartment out from under a doormat in the dark. I lifted up the mat and slipped my fingers over the damp cement feeling around for the key. In the dark, I felt soft, wet flesh: sticky, turgid, alive. Slugs, maybe, or worms. There was no key. I was betrayed. Then I felt something slide off of the mat–there was a mat sitting on the face of the other mat. Doormats apparently give mustache rides. The key was sandwiched between the two mats. Kinky. I was putting my hands where I had no business putting them. I didn’t have to feel up a slug.
This relationship is under the big mat. I have no business going there most of the time. I choose to. It’s always under there. But I want to go there so badly. It’s a bad place for me to go, you see. It has caused me a lot of pain. I do not know what it has done for the other person. That’s part of the reason it’s so appealing for me. The other person in this relationship has been a phantom, almost completely conjecture. I get to invent him in my mind. He’s nearly an imaginary friend, except he does exist somewhere in the real world, and we did have contact at one time.
It’s not okay to act badly, even if you think the other person would not mind so much. It’s not okay to manipulate someone who you think wants to be manipulated. Some people may want to get used by you, some people may want to be abused, but that doesn’t give you license to do it. I have to hold myself accountable for my actions. I don’t believe there’s a day of judgment–although I dearly love eschatology, I don’t abide by it–so I don’t think that a god will shake a finger at me for acting like an asshole. I’m the one who has to hold myself to a certain standard of behavior.
In this relationship, I wasn’t prepared to be a grown up, which the other person was, and simply commit. I wasn’t prepared to follow through in any way. What I wanted and continue to want to do was use this person to assuage my feelings of discomfort, boredom, fear, insecurity, loneliness–I want to use this person as an escape plan from the present. I want to use this person like a psychoactive substance. Shit ain’t cool, man. People deserve to be treated as such. Even if they don’t want to be.
I really don’t know what he wants. I never found out. I got ghost first. Maybe he’d settle for less than a respectful relationship. A lot of people will. But I need to hold myself to a higher standard if I want to feel okay about myself.
So when I want to contact him, I contact other people and tell them I am not contacting X. I had to do it today. It’s hard, even after a handful of years. I don’t think X thinks about me nearly as much as I think about him. I don’t think he’s created a mythology around me the way I have one around him. It’s strange. I used to think I was the attractive one, and he would be lucky to have me, in my weird arrogance, yet I’m the one who spends hours and hours thinking of him. I’m sure his ass has moved on years ago. He doesn’t need me. I need him. I need a way out of this life, knowing I could just get in touch with him and everything would be copacetic. It’s almost as if he’s a leprechaun now, or a faun or something. Magic! He has a magical penis! It’s made of gold! You rub it three times and you get a wish. In my experience with penises, that’s never been what’s happened. But maybe I just haven’t fucked a djinn yet.