Do You Want Me or Not?

I brought him an Eeyore doll today. I felt blue. He gave me a Micky Mouse doll. "Yes, I get it John. YOU are magical, FanTAStical! That's great...for you. Not for me. Your happiness makes me sick!" I grabbed his Micky Mouse doll and threw it to the floor. Want to know what I think of you John? I split Micky's legs and poke my finger at his ass and press it over and over faster until I break a hole into it.

"Oh no!" John said.

"That's the point Johhhnn." And I stuck Micky's tail in it's own ass.

"So John, what do you think?"

"What is there TO think Rachele? My children will be surprised to find that Micky Mouse is gay."

I started crying. "John just stop it! You know what I was getting at. You're always happy. ALWAYS. You pretended to be depressed. You pretended you had a rocky marriage. Was it all lies? My psychologist said that I did not know you for I only saw your public self and did not know you personally. And now personally I HAVE met you in person myself, alone, and you are a TOTAL ass hole."

John sighed. "What do you want from me?"

Sex. I wanted sex. I wanted to make love. But first I wanted to slap him in the face - HARD. Smack you one silly. Make John a hoe. I don't even know what that MEANS. Anyway, with John? What DID I want? I wanted him to LOVE me. To worship me like he did Athena. I wanted to save him like my own Odysseus. But instead he just knows me as a psychotic girl who kept emailing him and who he blocked. How was I ever to have a personal relationship with somebody who thinks I am crazy? Who thinks that...I am a fool.

"John just fuck off. THAT'S what you can do for me. Ass hole."

And he got up and walked out the door. I started crying. Is Micky the only one who had sex today? Do I have to make love to myself today alone? Micky Mouse will you help me? Can we be friends? YOU won't hurt me will you Micky? Not like that bitch John.

"I can't BELIEVE it!" I yelled to myself muffling my voice in my folded arms as I put my head down on his desk. I was sitting in his brown leather chair. I put his gay Micky back on his Library shelf.

John loved me but he didn't. He SEEMED to love me. I thought he did at least when his hand stroked my bangs out of my face. "You are beautiful" he told me. I hear that too much. I needed something more. There is a need for new words and new expressions; Not only new from the ones said before by the same person, but even same ones used over and over for the first time by DIFFERENT people!

Is all the love I ever felt from John of my own imagination? His eyes staring at me while he was talking to someone else, his head finally snapping to looking back forward to the direction he was walking when he noticed what he was doing. Or perhaps he WANTED me to see him like that. He saw me looking at him. He is smart. He'd know. He has self possession. Self control. No, John I think you love torturing me. Making me wonder about you. Reprimanding me so that I can't forget you because you hurt me so much and have so much authority in the world's eyes as WELL that I can't ignore you with a good conscience.

Mr. Rick made a fantasy story about you and I, John. It was damn hot. It made me want you more. Just imagining my legs spread out upon the couch and you staring at my pussy, fucking yourself silly. I saw your dick. As I touched myself. Does looking count for anything? Does simultaneous self fucking from you and me make us somehow ...fucking together?

I heard a harsh "SLAM!" I looked up abruptly from my daydreaming with my head in my arms to see John with tears on his cheeks. "Rachele. You don't even KNOW anything do you?! Do you think it is easy for me? I have a public life to protect. My job is on the line. You really think I am going to...entertain this silly fantasy of yours?"

"MY silly fantasy? John FUCK YOU!"

John choked up and looked upset at this. He sighed with an agitated look for he was annoyed. "Get up," he said. I was about to say no but I got slowly off the chair and he came by me and literally pulled me away from his desk with his hands and slammed me back against his Library.

"Rachele! Listen carefully," he said in a loud and violent whisper. "How many times do I have to show that I love you? You know I must hide my feelings for sake of my reputation and yet you keep...you keep challenging me saying that my lack of affection has to do with my not loving you. How many times do I have to take you" and he pulled me and slammed me against the library wall again to get his point across more dramatically, "to the side and calm you? I LOVE YOU RACHELE! Now stop! PLEASE!"

I stared at the floor the whole time he was talking. What he was saying was too important for me to look at his face during it for fear of manipulating anything he was saying by the power of my stare. "I get it John. But how will I know when it is over?"

"How can you NOT know when someone is over you? I wouldn't be giving you any attention for one. Believe me, it'll get cold. If you think I am frigid now, you won't WANT to be with me by the time I am through with you."

I knelt next to his legs and hugged them. I was not worthy of his torso. Of his face. I grabbed his hand and lightly pulled him closer to the ground so that he would sit down with me. He does and we laugh at the sillyness of my actions. How desperate it seems. How desperate it IS! He put his hand on my shoulder and his other hand through my hair. He tilted his head to the side and suddenly smiled while stroking my hair. "Don't tell me I am beautiful" I said. "You don't need to say anything at all."