The.Truth.
Every.Single.Time.
This is Pumpkin. He always has a glare.
The Drivel Thread
- Thread starter Light Housework
- Start date
This is Pumpkin. He always has a glare.
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
What you looking at?
The.Truth.
Every.Single.Time.
pictures of cats
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
No I was asking Pumpkin.
The.Truth.
Every.Single.Time.
This one is making sure it's feeding time before it bothers to come down the stairs.
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
I'm so lonely I'm talking to photos.
The.Truth.
Every.Single.Time.
okay I'm tired. have fun
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
Thanks for chatting. You have fun too.
Gordon Ramsay
bloody hell
My dad used to say, 'You wouldn't worry so much about what people thought about you if you knew how seldom they did.
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
I dreamt that I was at an intimate Morrissey concert, and because I looked distracted or something, the concert was cut short during the first song. The lights came on, and people that worked closely with Morrissey looked at me like I'd killed their grandmother.
I then realized I'd not been looking at the people around me, and so Morrissey was offended, possibly, about that, as well as me having seemed distracted or something. I went into the halls of the building looking for him. I heard myself yell raucously, "Where is f***ing Morrissey?", and I was like a football player, making my way before people could think to stop me.
I found him, and took his hand gently, and began singing Love Takes Time to him, changing the words to "Love takes time, to heal when you're so f***ed up that you avoid people, and put your head in the sand.", or something like that. I then piggy backed on him, and could feel his forehead under my fingers, warm and a little greasy. We sat like that, in the homey venue together, with the people that were still there. Someone was displaying her art on a long table in front of us and I asked her if she'd made it.
She said yes, and I gazed at it. Then I noticed that I had a small piece of paper in my hand, that looked kind of like an autumn leaf or flower, and I realized I must have ripped it from a flyer I'd been holding when Morrissey abandoned the concert. I must have ripped it out of the flyer in fury, but it was pretty, in my hand. Then I awoke to the sound of a Facebook message. It's about the coyote cull in Stanley park. They've been biting people and pets a lot lately. No one's been seriously injured but they've been leaving marks. I wrote back that I just had a dream and had to write it down, and that I'd get back to her.
Listen to Dream.m4a by Sharon on #SoundCloud
I then realized I'd not been looking at the people around me, and so Morrissey was offended, possibly, about that, as well as me having seemed distracted or something. I went into the halls of the building looking for him. I heard myself yell raucously, "Where is f***ing Morrissey?", and I was like a football player, making my way before people could think to stop me.
I found him, and took his hand gently, and began singing Love Takes Time to him, changing the words to "Love takes time, to heal when you're so f***ed up that you avoid people, and put your head in the sand.", or something like that. I then piggy backed on him, and could feel his forehead under my fingers, warm and a little greasy. We sat like that, in the homey venue together, with the people that were still there. Someone was displaying her art on a long table in front of us and I asked her if she'd made it.
She said yes, and I gazed at it. Then I noticed that I had a small piece of paper in my hand, that looked kind of like an autumn leaf or flower, and I realized I must have ripped it from a flyer I'd been holding when Morrissey abandoned the concert. I must have ripped it out of the flyer in fury, but it was pretty, in my hand. Then I awoke to the sound of a Facebook message. It's about the coyote cull in Stanley park. They've been biting people and pets a lot lately. No one's been seriously injured but they've been leaving marks. I wrote back that I just had a dream and had to write it down, and that I'd get back to her.
Listen to Dream.m4a by Sharon on #SoundCloud
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Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
She said people fight, bulldoze, and kill nature instead of working around it.
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
CHAPTER 4 Mike
I stole a hat from Miracle Mart, and walked through Alexis Nihon plaza with it on. This kid, Mark, said "Cool hat!" I told him how I got it, and we both went into Miracle Mart to get him one. He acted mighty suspicious, which alerted the store detectives, and we were nabbed, and brought into separate offices for interrogation. They demanded I tell them my name. I did, but they didn't believe me. It went on and on, and finally I got this idea I would give them the last name of the boy I'd stolen the boots for, Danny. They were triumphant and smug, thinking they'd caught me lying and had forced the truth from me, and that now I'd be in trouble with my parents.
They had the police come get me then. They put me in a cell and phoned Danny's mum. In an hour, she showed up to claim her fake daughter. As soon as we left the station, I went back to Miracle Mart, took another large bag from behind a cash register, and filled it with every item that had been confiscated, and I walked out nonchalantly and headed to Danny's with his boots, my hat, and a pair of muk luks for me (booties covered in fake fur).
I didn't go straight to Danny's though. I met a guy called Mike, in Alexis Nihon Plaza. He was 16. I was 12, maybe 13 by this time. We went to a bar and I had a tequila sunrise. I sat there in my new hat with Mike who was trying to seduce me. We then went to his place, an apartment he shared with his gorgeous foster mum, Donna, and her cat. There he came on strong and succeeded in seducing me. Later I went to Danny's.
While I was living at Danny's with his mum and his two younger sisters, I did a break and enter, through a dilapidated back door to a house in Westmount. I pulled down a bookshelf in the kitchen because I got a bad vibe from what I perceived was the father, judging by his file cabinet. It seemed he was a single parent to a teenage daughter.
I took a fur rug, and some records, and brought them to Mike's place. Pretty soon, Danny's mother found out that I had a boyfriend, Mike, and I guess she took that to mean I'd rejected her son, so she turned against me, accusing me of calling her daughters retarded, and sitting on me. She was very obese.
Somehow, I lived with Mike, without Donna realizing it, or not minding the fact. Mike once kicked her cat clean across the living room, which doubled as his bedroom, and the cat wound up slamming against the wall. Another time, Mike beat on a kid named Darryl, who was submissive to both Mike and I. We did a nasty thing to Darryl. We talked him into stealing a roll of money his mother had saved, and spending it on a bus trip to Toronto, where I spent $200 of it on a pair of leather boots.
The police could smell us a mile away, and nabbed us, taking me into a room without Mike or Darryl, where they tried to make me admit that Mike was having sex with me, a minor. I refused to admit it, and they stole my boots.
Poor Darryl. One time, Mike put a powder into my coffee. It must have been something like PCP, because I was out walking with a few people, and planned on flying off the roof of Mike's apartment building when I got back there. In the meantime, I rushed to Darryl, and began to rough him up. I felt his jacket rip, and that snapped me out of my trance. I asked myself what the f*** I was doing, and immediately apologized to Darryl. I realized then that I wasn't in my right mind, and that flying off the roof was also a crazy idea.
CHAPTER 5
VANKLEEK HILL FOSTER HOME
Eventually I was placed in a foster home with Mike's foster mother's parents. They wooed me with talk of riding their stallion. After I said yes to living with them and moved in, and I asked to ride the horse, they told me to ride their donkey, Ali. They never did let me ride the horse.
Ali did not want to be ridden. He tried to rub me off against a fence. I was determined to ride him though, and made him take me into the small town and down the main street. The next time I tried to ride Ali, I mounted him, and the stallion kicked me off, square in the center of my chest. He didn't hurt me. He only forced me off Ali, onto the ground, on my butt. I sat there watching the two of them walk triumphantly away from me.
Lisa, the foster parents' youngest daughter, blamed me for a limp Ali developed. She was snobby toward me from the start. Eventually she told me that the reason she snubbed me was because I smoked. Their middle daughter Karen tried to be kind to me. She set me up for a few dates with a friend of hers. We went to a Dairy Queen, a drive in, and another time played cards at his house. I didn't have any feelings for him. I didn't hate him. I felt neutral about him. Later, in school, a girl called Cathy asked me permission to date him and I told her sure, go ahead. She was an avid soccer player.
I got invited to a Christmas party, and the foster parents had to drive me there and pick me up afterward. The girl who invited me was really open minded, and invited interesting outsiders. There was Steve, a fellow foster kid that I had a crush on. He was with his girlfriend, a French girl, but he told me to give him a kiss. So I did, a full on French kiss. Steve was stunned.
Facing the cold foster home atmosphere afterward, and school, where a certain boy always followed me around chastising me for god knows what, was too much of a contrast to the friendly vibe of the party. I could no longer stand the snobbery of Barb and Lisa, or the constant verbal abuse from the boy at school, so after getting off the school bus that morning, instead of heading into the school, I walked to the highway and hitchhiked back to Montreal.
Somehow I found my friend Mona, and she had another girl with her named Cathy. For some reason, Cathy disliked me from the start. We went to a room someone rented. There were four girls including me, and Cathy's boyfriend all staying there. There was a bathroom in the hall that we'd all cram into, us girls.
Someone brought me to a young man's apartment. He told me that I could go lay down on his bed and that he wouldn't bother me. I did, and he did bother me. He came up behind me and raped me. I saw him in a restaurant after that. He joined me. I left, disgusted. Because I'd been raped, I considered myself too dirty for Mike, who was in Shawbridge, a home for problem juveniles. I stopped calling him.
Chapter 6 THE FARRELLS
I stayed at a girlfriend's house one night soon after the rape, and there was a twenty dollar bill on a shelf. I thought that was odd. Later, Nancy's mother asked me if I wanted to stay, and told me that the twenty dollar bill had been a test. I said yes, and soon a social worker approved me staying there. I was 16, and stayed there until I was nearly 18. I slept next to Nancy, in a double bed. She'd regularly have her boyfriend Mario climb in through the window at night and they'd have sex next to me.
One night I was coming home, on the sidewalk next to a hedge, and a man jumped out and grabbed me, but I sensed I wasn't really in danger and said "I know you!" I don't know why I said that. He had a stocking or something over his head and I didn't recognize him, but in the end Nancy told me it was one of her friends that had grabbed me, to teach me a lesson about walking alone at night. Another time, Nancy didn't like the way I was washing the dishes. I was using too much soap or something for her liking, and she became a bit physical. I wasn't hurt, but it made me leery of her.
My foster brother, Guy, was fun, exuberant, and warm. We wrestled in the kitchen once, and we both sensed the sexual tension between us and relented, out of respect for the family. He had a Penthouse magazine collection in his bedroom in the basement, and he always ironed his Jean’s. I’ve always liked Guy. I stopped contact with him after visiting the Farrell home one day, when just Guy and Mr. Farrell were home, and at the big wooden kitchen table Mr. Farrell probably built himself in the garage, I announced that I’d started stripping. I’m skipping ahead here, to when I’d moved in with a guy named Charlie.
Neither of them knew what to say. I understood by the expression on their faces, that such news would not go down well with Nancy and Mrs. Farrell. There were three young girls (two daughters and a foster daughter) still in the family to protect from the likes of me, I intuited would be the reaction. So I never contacted the Farrell’s again.
I miss Guy. I think Mr. Farrell has passed away. He was a warm and funny man, who would curse at me in French as a form of small talk. “Baise mon cue, Josephine!” (Kiss my ass, Sharon!), or “Mange la merde, Josephine!” (Eat shit, Sharon!). He would walk around with the crack of his butt showing, because his pants were always low. One night, I was in Nancy's and my bedroom with the light off, and I saw Mr. Farrell lit up by the fridge light, naked. I wasn’t alarmed. It was innocent, and humorous.
One night, while I was just starting to live with the Farrells', I visited Mona in her new bachelor apartment she'd rented with her new boyfriend Joe, and her sleazy pedophile uncle Perry was there. I'd had a run in with him before and should have known not to relax my guard around him. I was lonely, and he took advantage of that weakness, by pulling me onto his lap and putting his arms around me. I was so starved of affection, I melted. He led me to the bed and had sex with me in full view of Mona and Joe.
Perry was probably in his late forties, married with children it turned out, but I'd already fallen for him. He brought me to his apartment and had his wife cook us dinner! After a couple of months, Nancy told me that he'd come on to her, so I broke up with him, and noticed distinctly that I felt contaminated. I went to the children's hospital (I was 16) and was diagnosed with incubation stage syphilis and pregnancy. I had three huge shots in the buttocks to get rid of the syphilis, and had an abortion to completely sever ties to Perry. I didn't want to incubate his syphilis nor his offspring. Over the phone, I told him he gave me syphilis, and he answered that he'd just had a checkup and was given a clean bill of health. I didn't tell him that he'd gotten me pregnant. That was the last time I had contact with the sleazebag.
Mike somehow sent me a letter, telling me to get off my high horse and call him. The letter conveyed that he missed me, so I called him. I was overjoyed that he missed me, and soon he moved into a group home in the city and I began to see him often.
After a while of him doing an apprenticeship and me going to school, he asked me to get an apartment together. My instinct was strongly telling me that he'd get bored of me if I moved in with him, so I told him that if I moved in with him he'd soon see me as a dirty old used up dish rag. He insisted that I was the sunshine of his life, so we got an apartment together, and rented out a spare room to his friend Craig.
My adoptive mother had helped me move in, and the moment the door was closed behind her as she left, Mike started to ignore me. Days, weeks, then months went by like that. It was like night and day. Before we'd moved in together, we were all over each other. Now, he wouldn't even look at me. I thought that maybe if I started working out, he'd find me attractive again. That didn't work, so I started cooking big dinners for him. That didn't work, so I quit school and found a job, thinking that maybe if I started making some money he'd find me interesting again. That didn't work either.
One day, my friend Karen was over. I saw Mike checking out her upside down heart shaped ass, and I innocently remarked, after I walked Karen to the bus stop, "You like Karen's ass eh?", but he just shot me down with "Fack aff!" While I was walking Karen to the bus stop, I said to her "I think Mike's lost interest in me and is interested in other women." She answered "No, Sharon, you're crazy! Mike loves you!" I would later find out that she and Mike had been dating and having sex behind my back.
One night, I went to an Avon meeting, and when it was time to hand over my check, I realized I'd left it at home, so I walked back home, and as I walked back toward the meeting, my eyes alit on a set of legs across the street. The boots looked familiar. Then my eyes moved up, to the ponytail. That was too familiar, and I crossed the street toward the couple, and the woman motioned toward me. Mike stopped embracing her, and turned to me, said "Hi!", and I pivoted around and continued walking back to the meeting, bawling my eyes out. I got to the meeting, and handed over my check while wailing wildly. The businesswoman who I handed my cheque to was astonished. Her mouth was open as she stared at me but what could she say. She was just stunned.
By the time I got home, I was resolved to forgive everything. I was open, to understand what was going on, whatever it was. My love was true. It wasn't possessiveness. If he wanted to be with someone else, or even several others, I was perfectly willing to go on loving Mike, in the capacity of a friend, a very good friend. I know I sound like I’m painting myself out to have been a perfect angel here. In other parts of this book, I admit otherwise.
So I arrived home, and Mike was sitting on our bed. I pulled up a chair, and said "So tell me what's going on.", and he told me she was an ex girlfriend and he was just walking her home. Somehow I knew, that the girl was 16. I asked him if he'd dated her before she turned 16, and he lied and lied. He went on ignoring me after that, and somehow I knew, there were three girls, all 16, and all with upside down heart shaped asses like Karen's. It ended up being confirmed, by Mike, Karen, and our roommate Craig (unwittingly).
One day I came home to find that Karen was sauntering out of the bedroom. She said "Sharon, do you have a cigarette?" In the other room, another girl (another Karen, the girl I'd seen embracing with Mike the night of my Avon meeting), was sobbing. It turned out that she was crying because Mike had taken her virginity based on the lie that he and I had broken up, and that he was serious about her. Then she finds out none of it is true, and that my 'friend' Karen has been getting it on with Mike on top of all the other lies.
At some point, I remember seeing Mike standing with one foot on a chair, holding a bottle of whiskey, puffing his chest out to a song. I think it was called Dragonfly. The whole apartment smelled of whiskey fumes. Even four floors down, at the entrance to the apartment building, I could smell it. He was, of course, ignoring me, per usual. At another point in time, Mike got a black Labrador puppy, Max. Next thing I know, I come home to find the pup lying dying outside the apartment building, with blood coming out of its mouth. It was conscious, and looked at me like I was an angel, and then it died. I never found out what happened to that dog. I can only guess. My primary thought is that Mike kicked it into traffic, and it dragged itself home.
One day, Craig let something slip, and I figured out what was going on, and let me tell you, it wasn't jealousy that enraged me. It was being lied to that did it. I wanted to stick a knife in Mike’s gut and twist it. Fortunately for us both, he took about 20 minutes to arrive home, and I'd channeled my rage into packing my things. I told him that I never wanted to see his ugly face again. He cried. Mum picked me up and I lived with her and my sister for a while. Mike wouldn't let go.
He pursued me with a diamond ring and proposal. He lured me with a warm car when I had to get to school (I quit my job to go back to school) in the Montreal winter. He kept dogging me by using my weaknesses, for souvlaki and baklava, even for shelter at one or two points. Eventually he raped me in the graveyard of Parc Mont royal. That was the last time I had contact with him.
I stole a hat from Miracle Mart, and walked through Alexis Nihon plaza with it on. This kid, Mark, said "Cool hat!" I told him how I got it, and we both went into Miracle Mart to get him one. He acted mighty suspicious, which alerted the store detectives, and we were nabbed, and brought into separate offices for interrogation. They demanded I tell them my name. I did, but they didn't believe me. It went on and on, and finally I got this idea I would give them the last name of the boy I'd stolen the boots for, Danny. They were triumphant and smug, thinking they'd caught me lying and had forced the truth from me, and that now I'd be in trouble with my parents.
They had the police come get me then. They put me in a cell and phoned Danny's mum. In an hour, she showed up to claim her fake daughter. As soon as we left the station, I went back to Miracle Mart, took another large bag from behind a cash register, and filled it with every item that had been confiscated, and I walked out nonchalantly and headed to Danny's with his boots, my hat, and a pair of muk luks for me (booties covered in fake fur).
I didn't go straight to Danny's though. I met a guy called Mike, in Alexis Nihon Plaza. He was 16. I was 12, maybe 13 by this time. We went to a bar and I had a tequila sunrise. I sat there in my new hat with Mike who was trying to seduce me. We then went to his place, an apartment he shared with his gorgeous foster mum, Donna, and her cat. There he came on strong and succeeded in seducing me. Later I went to Danny's.
While I was living at Danny's with his mum and his two younger sisters, I did a break and enter, through a dilapidated back door to a house in Westmount. I pulled down a bookshelf in the kitchen because I got a bad vibe from what I perceived was the father, judging by his file cabinet. It seemed he was a single parent to a teenage daughter.
I took a fur rug, and some records, and brought them to Mike's place. Pretty soon, Danny's mother found out that I had a boyfriend, Mike, and I guess she took that to mean I'd rejected her son, so she turned against me, accusing me of calling her daughters retarded, and sitting on me. She was very obese.
Somehow, I lived with Mike, without Donna realizing it, or not minding the fact. Mike once kicked her cat clean across the living room, which doubled as his bedroom, and the cat wound up slamming against the wall. Another time, Mike beat on a kid named Darryl, who was submissive to both Mike and I. We did a nasty thing to Darryl. We talked him into stealing a roll of money his mother had saved, and spending it on a bus trip to Toronto, where I spent $200 of it on a pair of leather boots.
The police could smell us a mile away, and nabbed us, taking me into a room without Mike or Darryl, where they tried to make me admit that Mike was having sex with me, a minor. I refused to admit it, and they stole my boots.
Poor Darryl. One time, Mike put a powder into my coffee. It must have been something like PCP, because I was out walking with a few people, and planned on flying off the roof of Mike's apartment building when I got back there. In the meantime, I rushed to Darryl, and began to rough him up. I felt his jacket rip, and that snapped me out of my trance. I asked myself what the f*** I was doing, and immediately apologized to Darryl. I realized then that I wasn't in my right mind, and that flying off the roof was also a crazy idea.
CHAPTER 5
VANKLEEK HILL FOSTER HOME
Eventually I was placed in a foster home with Mike's foster mother's parents. They wooed me with talk of riding their stallion. After I said yes to living with them and moved in, and I asked to ride the horse, they told me to ride their donkey, Ali. They never did let me ride the horse.
Ali did not want to be ridden. He tried to rub me off against a fence. I was determined to ride him though, and made him take me into the small town and down the main street. The next time I tried to ride Ali, I mounted him, and the stallion kicked me off, square in the center of my chest. He didn't hurt me. He only forced me off Ali, onto the ground, on my butt. I sat there watching the two of them walk triumphantly away from me.
Lisa, the foster parents' youngest daughter, blamed me for a limp Ali developed. She was snobby toward me from the start. Eventually she told me that the reason she snubbed me was because I smoked. Their middle daughter Karen tried to be kind to me. She set me up for a few dates with a friend of hers. We went to a Dairy Queen, a drive in, and another time played cards at his house. I didn't have any feelings for him. I didn't hate him. I felt neutral about him. Later, in school, a girl called Cathy asked me permission to date him and I told her sure, go ahead. She was an avid soccer player.
I got invited to a Christmas party, and the foster parents had to drive me there and pick me up afterward. The girl who invited me was really open minded, and invited interesting outsiders. There was Steve, a fellow foster kid that I had a crush on. He was with his girlfriend, a French girl, but he told me to give him a kiss. So I did, a full on French kiss. Steve was stunned.
Facing the cold foster home atmosphere afterward, and school, where a certain boy always followed me around chastising me for god knows what, was too much of a contrast to the friendly vibe of the party. I could no longer stand the snobbery of Barb and Lisa, or the constant verbal abuse from the boy at school, so after getting off the school bus that morning, instead of heading into the school, I walked to the highway and hitchhiked back to Montreal.
Somehow I found my friend Mona, and she had another girl with her named Cathy. For some reason, Cathy disliked me from the start. We went to a room someone rented. There were four girls including me, and Cathy's boyfriend all staying there. There was a bathroom in the hall that we'd all cram into, us girls.
Someone brought me to a young man's apartment. He told me that I could go lay down on his bed and that he wouldn't bother me. I did, and he did bother me. He came up behind me and raped me. I saw him in a restaurant after that. He joined me. I left, disgusted. Because I'd been raped, I considered myself too dirty for Mike, who was in Shawbridge, a home for problem juveniles. I stopped calling him.
Chapter 6 THE FARRELLS
I stayed at a girlfriend's house one night soon after the rape, and there was a twenty dollar bill on a shelf. I thought that was odd. Later, Nancy's mother asked me if I wanted to stay, and told me that the twenty dollar bill had been a test. I said yes, and soon a social worker approved me staying there. I was 16, and stayed there until I was nearly 18. I slept next to Nancy, in a double bed. She'd regularly have her boyfriend Mario climb in through the window at night and they'd have sex next to me.
One night I was coming home, on the sidewalk next to a hedge, and a man jumped out and grabbed me, but I sensed I wasn't really in danger and said "I know you!" I don't know why I said that. He had a stocking or something over his head and I didn't recognize him, but in the end Nancy told me it was one of her friends that had grabbed me, to teach me a lesson about walking alone at night. Another time, Nancy didn't like the way I was washing the dishes. I was using too much soap or something for her liking, and she became a bit physical. I wasn't hurt, but it made me leery of her.
My foster brother, Guy, was fun, exuberant, and warm. We wrestled in the kitchen once, and we both sensed the sexual tension between us and relented, out of respect for the family. He had a Penthouse magazine collection in his bedroom in the basement, and he always ironed his Jean’s. I’ve always liked Guy. I stopped contact with him after visiting the Farrell home one day, when just Guy and Mr. Farrell were home, and at the big wooden kitchen table Mr. Farrell probably built himself in the garage, I announced that I’d started stripping. I’m skipping ahead here, to when I’d moved in with a guy named Charlie.
Neither of them knew what to say. I understood by the expression on their faces, that such news would not go down well with Nancy and Mrs. Farrell. There were three young girls (two daughters and a foster daughter) still in the family to protect from the likes of me, I intuited would be the reaction. So I never contacted the Farrell’s again.
I miss Guy. I think Mr. Farrell has passed away. He was a warm and funny man, who would curse at me in French as a form of small talk. “Baise mon cue, Josephine!” (Kiss my ass, Sharon!), or “Mange la merde, Josephine!” (Eat shit, Sharon!). He would walk around with the crack of his butt showing, because his pants were always low. One night, I was in Nancy's and my bedroom with the light off, and I saw Mr. Farrell lit up by the fridge light, naked. I wasn’t alarmed. It was innocent, and humorous.
One night, while I was just starting to live with the Farrells', I visited Mona in her new bachelor apartment she'd rented with her new boyfriend Joe, and her sleazy pedophile uncle Perry was there. I'd had a run in with him before and should have known not to relax my guard around him. I was lonely, and he took advantage of that weakness, by pulling me onto his lap and putting his arms around me. I was so starved of affection, I melted. He led me to the bed and had sex with me in full view of Mona and Joe.
Perry was probably in his late forties, married with children it turned out, but I'd already fallen for him. He brought me to his apartment and had his wife cook us dinner! After a couple of months, Nancy told me that he'd come on to her, so I broke up with him, and noticed distinctly that I felt contaminated. I went to the children's hospital (I was 16) and was diagnosed with incubation stage syphilis and pregnancy. I had three huge shots in the buttocks to get rid of the syphilis, and had an abortion to completely sever ties to Perry. I didn't want to incubate his syphilis nor his offspring. Over the phone, I told him he gave me syphilis, and he answered that he'd just had a checkup and was given a clean bill of health. I didn't tell him that he'd gotten me pregnant. That was the last time I had contact with the sleazebag.
Mike somehow sent me a letter, telling me to get off my high horse and call him. The letter conveyed that he missed me, so I called him. I was overjoyed that he missed me, and soon he moved into a group home in the city and I began to see him often.
After a while of him doing an apprenticeship and me going to school, he asked me to get an apartment together. My instinct was strongly telling me that he'd get bored of me if I moved in with him, so I told him that if I moved in with him he'd soon see me as a dirty old used up dish rag. He insisted that I was the sunshine of his life, so we got an apartment together, and rented out a spare room to his friend Craig.
My adoptive mother had helped me move in, and the moment the door was closed behind her as she left, Mike started to ignore me. Days, weeks, then months went by like that. It was like night and day. Before we'd moved in together, we were all over each other. Now, he wouldn't even look at me. I thought that maybe if I started working out, he'd find me attractive again. That didn't work, so I started cooking big dinners for him. That didn't work, so I quit school and found a job, thinking that maybe if I started making some money he'd find me interesting again. That didn't work either.
One day, my friend Karen was over. I saw Mike checking out her upside down heart shaped ass, and I innocently remarked, after I walked Karen to the bus stop, "You like Karen's ass eh?", but he just shot me down with "Fack aff!" While I was walking Karen to the bus stop, I said to her "I think Mike's lost interest in me and is interested in other women." She answered "No, Sharon, you're crazy! Mike loves you!" I would later find out that she and Mike had been dating and having sex behind my back.
One night, I went to an Avon meeting, and when it was time to hand over my check, I realized I'd left it at home, so I walked back home, and as I walked back toward the meeting, my eyes alit on a set of legs across the street. The boots looked familiar. Then my eyes moved up, to the ponytail. That was too familiar, and I crossed the street toward the couple, and the woman motioned toward me. Mike stopped embracing her, and turned to me, said "Hi!", and I pivoted around and continued walking back to the meeting, bawling my eyes out. I got to the meeting, and handed over my check while wailing wildly. The businesswoman who I handed my cheque to was astonished. Her mouth was open as she stared at me but what could she say. She was just stunned.
By the time I got home, I was resolved to forgive everything. I was open, to understand what was going on, whatever it was. My love was true. It wasn't possessiveness. If he wanted to be with someone else, or even several others, I was perfectly willing to go on loving Mike, in the capacity of a friend, a very good friend. I know I sound like I’m painting myself out to have been a perfect angel here. In other parts of this book, I admit otherwise.
So I arrived home, and Mike was sitting on our bed. I pulled up a chair, and said "So tell me what's going on.", and he told me she was an ex girlfriend and he was just walking her home. Somehow I knew, that the girl was 16. I asked him if he'd dated her before she turned 16, and he lied and lied. He went on ignoring me after that, and somehow I knew, there were three girls, all 16, and all with upside down heart shaped asses like Karen's. It ended up being confirmed, by Mike, Karen, and our roommate Craig (unwittingly).
One day I came home to find that Karen was sauntering out of the bedroom. She said "Sharon, do you have a cigarette?" In the other room, another girl (another Karen, the girl I'd seen embracing with Mike the night of my Avon meeting), was sobbing. It turned out that she was crying because Mike had taken her virginity based on the lie that he and I had broken up, and that he was serious about her. Then she finds out none of it is true, and that my 'friend' Karen has been getting it on with Mike on top of all the other lies.
At some point, I remember seeing Mike standing with one foot on a chair, holding a bottle of whiskey, puffing his chest out to a song. I think it was called Dragonfly. The whole apartment smelled of whiskey fumes. Even four floors down, at the entrance to the apartment building, I could smell it. He was, of course, ignoring me, per usual. At another point in time, Mike got a black Labrador puppy, Max. Next thing I know, I come home to find the pup lying dying outside the apartment building, with blood coming out of its mouth. It was conscious, and looked at me like I was an angel, and then it died. I never found out what happened to that dog. I can only guess. My primary thought is that Mike kicked it into traffic, and it dragged itself home.
One day, Craig let something slip, and I figured out what was going on, and let me tell you, it wasn't jealousy that enraged me. It was being lied to that did it. I wanted to stick a knife in Mike’s gut and twist it. Fortunately for us both, he took about 20 minutes to arrive home, and I'd channeled my rage into packing my things. I told him that I never wanted to see his ugly face again. He cried. Mum picked me up and I lived with her and my sister for a while. Mike wouldn't let go.
He pursued me with a diamond ring and proposal. He lured me with a warm car when I had to get to school (I quit my job to go back to school) in the Montreal winter. He kept dogging me by using my weaknesses, for souvlaki and baklava, even for shelter at one or two points. Eventually he raped me in the graveyard of Parc Mont royal. That was the last time I had contact with him.
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Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
The above 3 chapters
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
Listen to 3 chapters.m4a by Sharon on #SoundCloud
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
Update: After I wrote the above 3 chapters several months ago, I found out Guy had passed away.
V
vegan cro spirit .777
Guest
FC the wood in your dwelling is rotting and could collapse and trap the poor
The.Truth.
Every.Single.Time.
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
Yeah, just asking myself what makes people tick, especially myself and Morrissey.
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
I think Morrissey just wants to feel kindness spread. Me too.
The.Truth.
Every.Single.Time.
Seems like more bait to start another argument but #whaterver #sis
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