Life Ain't A Fairy Tale (10 page)

"Jimmy, since you worked so hard today, how
about I reward you with a passionate night of sex?" I can't believe
the words that come out of her mouth. My body aches all over. I
don't know if I am up to the challenge. I want to watch TV. I
really want to relax, rest, and have a good night sleep for
tomorrow. Where does she get so much energy?

"Okay. After we watch some TV. Don't you want
to watch some TV?" I hope my lack of enthusiasm does not register
with Sara.

"TV? TV? I offer you my love, and your
response is okay. Okay? Here I am trying to be nice and sweet. I
know you are not used to doing the house chores and stuff, but stop
looking so miserable. We have to wash the dishes. Please, help me
out. It will be worth it. I know you love having me. Forget the
damn TV."

After we are done eating, I help her wash the
dishes. At least, it is only a few dishes. My heels ache when I
stand next to Sara cleaning the dishes. When you leave the dishes
from the morning without water, scrubbing the food off the dishes
later requires more effort. Not too much effort, I don't want to
sound like a drama queen. Together, we clean the dishes quickly,
which is something I welcome.

With my hopes of watching TV down the drain,
I hold hands with Sara to make love in her bedroom. She takes off
her clothes and jumps on the bed. Her legs crossed are so
seductive. I am in awe of the thighs that she has. Despite all my
body aching, I am fully erect and desiring to be inside her. I take
my clothes off and put my condom on. I lie on top of her. The
pleasure I feel inside of her overrides the pains and aches of my
body. My lips kiss her jaw, neck, and throat to satisfy my labial
cravings. Her heavy breathing, her smiles, and closed eyes when I
look at her increase my libido. In addition to the body-to-body
contact, I love her hair touching my face. I hump her roughly and
quickly to finish as quickly as possible. I need a good night's
sleep. There is no time to savor the moment.

To my surprise, Sara is not satisfied. She
wants more. She wants me to help her squirt again. It shocks me
because the love session lasted a solid 13 minutes. This was much
longer than the first time we had sex. I even kept going a bit
longer after my orgasm to make sure she had one. At least, she
moaned loud enough to make me believe she reached an orgasm. This
woman has too much energy for me.

I give her what she wants, another orgasm.
She has a special green towel that she places on the bed. This
avoids getting the bed wet. My lubed hand stimulates the upper wall
of the cylinder. I am already sleepy and fatigued from making love.
I lie on the bed face down to the right where I directly see her
hips and thighs. My hand, in the form of a fist, goes inside the
cylinder. My wrist rotates inside of her as if I was opening a
doorknob repeatedly. I receive in gratitude Sara's soft moans of
pleasure. Not realizing I am falling asleep, Sara moves my arm to
wake me up. She wants me to continue giving her tactile pleasure.
After waking up, I make sure to stay awake. My hands stroke and rub
her until she squirts all over the green towel. Finally, we fall
asleep together until the next morning.

Chapter 6

My 7-month relationship with Sara has been
harder on her emotionally than it has been on me. The problem is
that Sara still believes in the fantasy of love and the sentimental
crap that comes with it. This is the main reason why it has been
hard on her. She wants the freshness of love when a relationship
begins to continue for the rest of her life. Unfortunately, being
fresh and exciting for long periods is not my strong point. She
expected everything to go differently than the way it has been
going.

She believes in a loving relationship where
people should be inspired to become better people for each other.
In another time, I would have done everything to please the girl I
like. Since I had panic attack problems, I do my best to avoid
being stress. Pleasing her requires me to change my personality
dramatically to become a "better" person. It is too stressful to go
through. I do not want to have the anxiety problems I had during my
last semester in college again.

Sara doesn't like the few changes I made
since we live together. I am too monotonous for her. She always
pushes me away during the day. She complains that I hug and kiss
her too much. My excessive kissing reminded her of a person she
knew with mental retardation. At the beginning, she used to think
that kissing and hugging her was cute. She doesn't like that I eat
the same foods every day. She dislikes my unwillingness to try new
foods. She can't believe I get tired so quickly. To her, I haven't
bothered to make myself a "better" person for our love to flourish.
It is clear I can't sustain the self-confident and talkative
personality that I put on to impress her on our first date. The
only thing she likes about me now is my love making ability.

No matter how hard I please her by doing
house chores everyday; Sara still wants more from me. She expects
me to be more people friendly and socially interactive. She also
wishes I were more assertive. She wants me to face my fears of
riding on airplanes and roller coaster rides. I can't do that. I am
scared of heights. I don't want to put my nervous system in
jeopardy.

All her frustrations spring from the way I
am. This is a bad omen for the future. This is my personality. I am
the silent type who is socially shy and non-confrontational. I
don't like trying new things. I enjoy life being the same every
day. She has a hard time accepting my personality. She thought I
would magically change into the ideal man over time. My parents
have an easier time tolerating my personality than she has. In
essence, she does not accept me.

For me, it has been hard only from a physical
point of view. I was not used to doing any house chores. Doing
chores every day has left me with persistent, but minor pains and
aches all over my body. My body is not adapting to being physically
active. In addition, even having sex has been difficult. When you
have aches and pains all over your body, the pleasure of love does
not feel that sweet anymore. The action of humping does not give me
pleasure like it. Luckily, having her breasts in my face every
night makes it worth the pain.

Telling Sara to take a three-day break from
making love crossed my mind, but she likes it too much. I keep the
pain to myself. Her energy is limitless. She always demands that I
help her squirt. The pleasure she feels from squirting is immense.
The worst part for me is not only my body aches, but also our
lovemaking sessions have become longer. It takes us a while to
achieve an orgasm. My body has become very accustomed to having
sex. I only feel a small amount of pleasure when my orgasm reaches.
I don't want her to get mad. In her anger, she might stop making
love to me. I only want a small break, not an eternal break.

Going out dancing to the club every weekend
was something I didn't like, but I thought that I could stomach it.
After going out many times to the club, I reconfirm that Sara is an
energizer bunny. She keeps going and going. She dances all night
long, and I often have a very difficult time keeping up with her.
Often, her coworker, Chad, kept dancing with her when I got too
tired. Sara continued to get upset because I never showed any
jealousy towards Chad. My legs were too sore to even bother feeling
insecure and jealous of Chad.

Two months into the relationship on a night
out to the club, Sara screamed at my sore ears that were already
bothered by the loud music. She became a screamer when she got more
drunk than usual.

"What do you mean you are tired?" She
screamed at me on the dance floor. There was an angry look on her
face.

"Yes, Sara. I am tired. I can't dance
anymore." I pulled her away from the dance floor. I was completely
out of breath. My legs, knees, thighs, and heels hurt from dancing
30 minutes straight. The music speakers' loud bass made me feel
like I had a loud heartbeat in my chest. It was not a good
sensation to feel a loud heartbeat and weakness in your legs. It
reminded of my past panic attacks.

"Tired? You don't do anything over the week."
Sara argued. Her face had a pinkish tone.

"Well, I do clean the house's first floor
everyday. I am not used to doing that. I am sorry, Sara."

"That's your excuse? You spend the whole time
sitting down at work tutoring people. You come home to clean, and
only for that, you can't dance anymore? Man up."

"I am not a strong man. Don't blame me. Blame
my genetics. I am sorry." I explained sitting down at the table,
feeling relieved that I was resting.

"What? You spoiled brat. I didn't think you
would be so tired from doing a few house chores. It's been two
months since we've been living together. When are you going to stop
complaining?" I didn't think specifically telling her that my legs
felt the same way they felt when I had panic attacks would have
satisfied her. Instead, I changed the subject.

"Look at Chad. He is on the dance floor,
lonely. He looks very fresh. Why don't you dance with him?"

"Dance with Chad? What's next? You are too
tired to have sex. Are you going to tell Chad to have sex with me
for you?" Sara clenched her fists in frustration. This is the
problem when you speak to drunken people. They lose the ability to
reason normally.

"Um, no. I will not do that. Sara, I know you
want to dance. I don't want to hold you back. Chad danced with you
these past weeks when I get tired. Have fun, Sara. Don't worry
about me." I couldn't wait for Sara to stop arguing with me.

"Uh, I hate you for being such a little girl.
By the way, I will have sex with Chad tonight. Like it or not."
Sara stormed off furious to the dance floor. She danced seductively
with Chad.

Being trash-talked by Sara was no big deal,
but the incident I couldn't tolerate occurred one Saturday night, 4
months into the relationship. Sara got too drunk that night, more
than usual. Driving Sara and Gina back to Gina's apartment, she
argued about me not dancing with her again. Dancing with Chad only
calmed her down a bit. She accused me of not truly loving her. In
the midst of Sara's complaint, she vomited all over my shirt and
pants. Now, I am not a person who is really vain about having my
clothes dirty. The smell of her breath and vomit was gross, but
this incident reminded me of how much I detest drunken people and
the problems that come with it.

Sara's drunkenness reminded me of the worst
part of my childhood. During the weekends when I played video games
in my room, my parents had very strong arguments in the kitchen.
These strong arguments always occurred because my father got very
drunk during the weekends. My father was an assertive,
argumentative, and commanding person when he was sober, but when he
was very drunk, his words toward my mother became poisonous. It
always began with my father arguing about the food my mother cooked
being awful, and how she couldn't do anything right. Slowly, he
transitioned to complaining how my mother did not love him anymore.
He implied she never really loved him. According to my father, the
real reason she married him was for the money. He highlighted
alleged past events where my mother cheated on him.

"Why don't you love me anymore?" My father
asked.

"We are not young anymore. Who cares about
this? This is the way life is." My mother responded. She had to
stay there in the kitchen cleaning the dishes as my father ate and
opened more beer cans.

"You are only here for the money."

"No. That is not the reason why I am here. I
don't need your money. I am here because I love Jimmy, and my baby
needs me. He needs us to be together. We have to help him grow up
and become a good man. If we never had Jimmy, I would have gone
back to Mexico where my family lives a long time ago."

"Yeah. That is not the only fucking reason
you would go back to Mexico. You also would go back and catch up
with your old boyfriends."

"Ha, ha. I never even had a real boyfriend
before I met you. The closest to thing to a boyfriend was Alberto
in high school. The only relationship Alberto and I had was sending
love letters to each other. We didn't even go out on a date. You,
on the other hand, had no shame. You danced with other women right
in my face when we were at parties, and you were completely
drunk."

"No. What are you talking about? That never
happened. Those are jealous bitches tarnishing my name because I
never paid any attention to them."

"Are you not listening? You did it right in
front of me. I even left the parties because I was tired, and you
continued to party without me.

"That shit, coming out of your mouth, is a
lie. I don't know why you have such a big fucking mouth."

"Ah, well. I don't know why you complain so
much about me. You had the chance to marry other women. They loved
to have sex and were fun to dance with. Instead, you chose me. I
don't know why. You complain the food is bad, and it tastes awful.
Instead, you should be grateful. Nobody from the streets comes here
to make you food. I am the one who cooks, cleans the dishes, cleans
the house, does the laundry, gets you ready with all you need for
work, and take care of our son."

"Oh, really? Well, the house isn't clean all
the time. Almost every fucking day, I see dirty shit all over the
place that needs to be cleaned. There are many days when the
jackets aren't hung in the closet."

"Everyday? You are such a liar. Everyday?
Maybe some days I am very tired, and I leave the jackets on the
furniture. I clean the house every two days. You never praise me
when everything is clean, you only complain every time I do
something wrong. Something you never do. You complain, but you
never do anything around the house."