From Solipsist by Henry Rollins

Sandra from across the street came over this afternoon as I was getting back from picking Nick up from school. She said she may need a favor later and that she couldn’t tell me why because she didn’t want to start crying. “Oh shit!” is what I thought. She said after her kids were in bed this evening, she might need me to come over because it might not be a good idea for her to be alone. I hugged her and told her that, of course, I would come over and that I’m just across the street if she needs me before then. I asked her if she was okay and she said she really, really wasn’t but she couldn’t say anything because she had to go back inside with the kids and didn’t want them to see her crying.

Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it! Obviously this has something to do with Michael. I was over there yesterday looking for Nick and again, even though I have made things crystal clear, he was trying to look down my shirt and grabbing my ass. That was until his daughter walked into the room. Fuck! How the hell do I stay away from there when my son plays with his kids all the time? I can’t exactly say, “Nick, you can’t play with your friends anymore because their dad can’t keep his hands off my ass!”

I still stick by my decision not to tell her. I believe even more strongly that I did the right thing after a conversation a couple of weeks ago. Sandra had invited me over for dinner. She had another friend over whose husband had recently left her. We were all sitting around talking. Michael and Sandra’s friend were playing golf on Playstation and Sandra and I were sitting on their bed. The friend was talking about how her husband promised that he wouldn’t have sex with anyone until their divorce was final. Uh-huh. So, Sandra says that she loved us both and would do anything for us but if we were ever to have sex with her husband, be they divorced or separated or whatever, she would hate us. I haven’t even had sex with this guy and I felt guilty when she said that. All I could say was “uh, yeah, I can understand that.” Anyway, that conversation convinced me that if I tell her about his behavior towards me, she is going to believe it was something I did. We always want to blame the “other” person. Who’s to say he wouldn’t tell her that I was the one who hit on him? And I believe if that happened she would believe him because who wants to believe that somebody you love would do that to you? Nobody...that’s who.

Maybe I’m just making excuses for not taking action, for not telling her, but I don’t know how to handle this type of situation. This is a first for me. I keep feeling like if I just keep rebuffing him, he’ll get bored and leave me alone and then I don’t have to be the one with the courage to do what he should do. All this time I’ve talked about what a coward Ian is and maybe I’m no better. I feel bad for her. I feel bad if he stays when he doesn’t even love her. I feel bad if he’s left her because it will cause her pain. I guess sometimes, no matter what you do or don’t do, you end up feeling bad all the way around.

If she calls me tonight to come over, I’ll be there. I’ll feel guilty because I know more than I have the heart to tell her. But, I’ll be there because I know that all of this was simmering under the surface long before I came along. And who knows, maybe it has nothing to do with him at all.