Joe texted me when I left the office. The week was endless, and I was sad and exhausted trying to brighten my evening with some sweet cherries.
“Sweetheart, interesting idea came to me to put you up for the next weekend in Elysium Grande, you could hang by the beach and get a massage, have no idea if it appeals to you, it’s a beautiful hotel, right on the water. I would NOT stay with you, and may visit you perhaps if you like.”
I tapped on the texted link and livened up. The resort looked enticing with spas, relaxation pools, and private jacuzzi baths. My body was craving for rest, I had the feeling that adding more stress to it will break me, so I hurriedly texted back.
“I won’t say no to it, my dear. I am tired and need some time for myself”. The only thing I disliked about the whole idea was Joe’s desire to stop by. I wanted to be by myself healing from the traumas Greg put me through that night. I still showed bruises on my throat and was entirely heart-broken.
“You need to rest, you deserve it, take your son, have fun, I will take care of it” – That evening I felt grateful for having Joe in my life.
I texted back the polite “You do not have to do it for us” and got the usual “My sweet, silly, worrying girl, I wish I could do more”.
Deal than. I stretched and yawned. Greg is no longer here, I am totally annihilated by his violence and disrespect. I was thinking about giving in to Mike’s constant offers to become the sub in his sadist-masochist games. I am subservient to a fault.
The next morning was Saturday. I had to take my car to an auto repair. A mechanic was a young guy, tall, lean, and athletic I could literary feel his defined body under the uniform. Bright eye-whites and clear skin. A happy exclusion from many who eat junk, drink soda, hide trashy smells with gums and cologne, and demand being loved for who they are. I love attractive people, both males and females, they make this world enjoyable. We scheduled another appointment for the next week, shook hands, and I left elated that simple and handsome people still exist. Joe’s text message threw me from euphoria to the male midlife crisis: boating, golfing, erection problems, and career.
“I will postpone the Keys trip, wanna see you badly”. – I did not text back.
I pictured him giving his black credit card at the reception while I would be hiding my eyes from the front-desk meticulously studying hotel brochures. I turned off. I was about to puke. I was ready to deny him, his sentimental courtesy, and monetary support for good that day.
When I arrived for the scheduled appointment a week later, I saw Joe’s vehicle. I parked nearby surprised that he found me and relieved to see him. I kept ignoring him for a week missing him badly. He stood up as I entered the waiting room and gave me a hug. To my endless questions about how he found me, he was responding with a quiet smile. He smelled chic and comfort. I missed it.
– I’ll speak to them about your vehicle, do not want them to rip you off, honey.
– Thank you, Joe. Thank you for being my friend – I was happy, the estimate they gave me over the phone was ridiculously high, he was taking the huge burden off my shoulders.
I saw them both discussing the repair of my vehicle. That young guy looked visibly smaller and not that attractive any longer. His servile movements and apologetic smiles as he was trying to explain the reason for charging me that much entirely destroyed the whole sex appeal. I was no longer impressed by the low-educated immaturity in a dirty uniform and glad I did not cross Joe out of my life.
– You were hiding from me, what is going on babe? Did I do something wrong? – Joe was sincerely worried and I smiled back
– I was very busy and tired, really appreciate your help
– When shall I see you again?
I started packing my bathing suits for the Elysium report. I was not ready to give up on Joe. I needed Greg in the my life. No text, no phone call, nothing. It was the time for push-ups. Increasing 50 boy-push-ups to 70. Defined arms, lovely tummy, and physical pain and exhaustion – the best way to stop thinking about someone who is no longer in my life.