Diego felt terrible. Sansara had walked away from him, brooding in anger the night she got him stoned out of his gourd. Then, he daydreamed having sex with her and it ended with her calling out someone else’s name. That part was confusing, because he’d never heard the name Ross from her before..
That wasn’t the first time he dreamt of having sex with the woman, either. It’d happened many times now, including the first night he stayed the night on his couch.
She did not consent, sadly. That was the whole problem. She wanted to be married to a real man, a man with ambition and perseverance and chutzpah. Her first husband, Antoine, really lacked the perseverance aspect. He had some ambition — opening a dojo. He was a second dan black belt in Matsubayashi Shorin Ryu martial arts and he wanted to open a dojo with his buddy, Jackson. He even daydreamed that Crystal could function much like his sensei’s wife, who was a healer or perhaps receptionist.
Anthony was not able to get his ass in gear without Jackson, though. She pestered him over and over to open his practice so he could build his clientele. She thought it would make him happier to be his own boss. He shied away from it, afraid to make the leap without his best friend. Unfortunately, his best friend had zero plans to return to St. Louis and Anthony had zero plans to leave St. Louis. That meant Antoine was never going to have a practice at all. He might inherit his sensei’s, he supposed, but there was no reason to hope for that. She wished him all the good health in the world, actually.
His sensei was like a second father to him and he was deeply attached, which was great, until factoring in that he didn’t want to go to the classes or get back in shape. He enjoyed being lazy. Most people do, really. Crystal didn’t like to sit still, however. She had to always be doing something, or she’d get too depressed to do anything.
Tons of mental health professionals say this is problematic. It’s an indicator that you don’t like yourself, if you cannot sit still and be quiet for a while. They indicate this is the real reason you get depressed. Not Crystal, though; she loved being alone and spending time with herself and she would still get depressed from lack of human interaction or movement, one or the other. She could sit around crafting costume pieces or painting something new to hang on her wall. She needed inspiration, which could come from anywhere.
The catch is that Crystal likes to maximize her time. If she’s watching a movie, she can easily do it with a friend. If she’s painting, she can do that with a friend, too. Efficiency was key for her because there were never enough hours in the day to do everything she had in mind.
And that’s why everyone thought of Crystal as codependent throughout her life, even she herself thought so for a time. That is, until she grew away from her childish husband and divorced his ass to live alone for years. Those were the best years of her life. Her health was coming under control, she was losing weight steadily, she was pursuing her favorite interests, she kept her house tidy and the lawn mowed. She even planted plants outside by herself. She grew and grew all by herself… an integral part of partnership is growing with somebody, but nobody tickled her fancy enough.
In fact, outside of work, the only person she would commit to spending time with was her friend Alessandro. Once a week, she would spend 45 minutes driving to his house to hang out for the entirety of his wife’s shift, playing video games, chit chatting, giving him a womanly perspective when he brought up problems with the wife he was entirely devoted to, and cooking and cleaning with her friend.
Crystal would have stayed, but as soon as Erin came home, he pushed her out the door to spend time with his shy wife alone. Alessandro loved their friendship mainly because they could do separate things in the same room without saying a word for hours. In fact, one time, he played clarinet while she painted, and that was just right, they both thought.
Eventually, Erin joined them for friend time, too, though she was quiet and didn’t say much. Crystal did her very best to read her emotions in order to empathize with the shy woman, so she would not be upset by their friendship. The last thing she wanted to do was come between two people who loved each other. She had a real breakthrough once by doing the dishes for Erin. She did them as often as she felt good enough to do them after that so she could show her shy friend that she loved her very much.
Unfortunately, something happened to this dynamic. That something is named Ben. Psycho Boy Ben, to be precise. Ben was (is?) a sex fiend. All he cares about is sex, sex, sex. In fact, he admitted to her later on that the only reason that he “allowed” her to move in was he thought he’d have more sex. Apparently daily to the tune of 45 minutes wasn’t enough sex.
I almost hear your whiplash, boys. Say what? Daily sex?! Where do I sign up? Nowhere. It was rape. Crystal is asexual. She doesn’t want sex. Ever. But her body can be talked into it, you see. Anyone’s body can be. If you stimulate the nerves carefully, they will trigger a sexual response. It’s true of men, women, and anyone in between. It’s even true of children to a degree.
Gross, yeah. Except there are a lot more pedophiles than you’d ever suspect on planet Earth. People who covet children are really just gay, but because they have a moral conundrum with gayness, they abuse children, instead. Most pedophiles never touch children at all, they just constantly daydream about the kids in those adverts in your Sunday paper. The toy section, as it were. If you catch an adult — especially without children — looking at the toy section of the ads for a little too long, they are preparing spank bank material.
You might think, “Oh, well, if they never actually do it, it’s not so bad.” Wrong. Humanity is telepathically linked together by a minimal thread in the back of your mind. That whole “we only use 30% of our brains” is hogwash; the rest goes to that connection and handling it. And if a child is being raped in the back of their mind? Right. You got it now? Great.
Just accept you’re fucking gay, dudes and dudettes. There’s nothing wrong with it. This bullshit of carrying on the human race is no longer necessary. Humans are the dominant life form and there is no threat to our survival. Unless, of course, the beings in outer space decide to smoke us for raping planet Earth. In fact, that’s the very outcome I’m rooting for. We are psychopaths that cause pain and walk away like nothing ever happened.
I hate myself for this. I hate you for it. I hate everything and everyone. At least nature has understandable rules. Predators attack and eat prey because that’s how they survive. They have to work for their food, but we’ve forgotten that model. We’ve become gluttons who eat with our eyes and our taste buds, no longer struggling to survive. (Unless you’re incredibly poor or homeless, that is.)
Why is it I can buy potato chips with food stamps but if I buy Traditional Medicinals tea, I have to pay cash? What the fuck is that? Why can I buy literal poison but not a cure that happens to be made of food? Fuck America, Fuck the United States. This is pure bullshit.