I Am My Own Worst Enemy

I sat staring, watching her read. Well, I was glaring actually. We hadn’t had sex in 5 days, a new record for us, and she just sat there reading. So, yeah, I was glaring. And trying really hard not to touch myself because she looked really hot curled up like that concentrating on her book. Her soft blond hair ran in waves down her back, a few locks resting on top of her breasts. I almost growled. I don’t think she’s even noticed how long it’s been.
She doesn’t like when I get myself off without her and I don’t like getting myself off in front of her, so I have to rely on her to get me off. And, have I mentioned, it had been 5 days? It was very tempting to go use the bathroom and break that rule of hers.
She rolled over, and her shirt twisted up over her bra. Her hand swept lightly over her stomach, and she drew little circles with her fingertips, unconsciously. 'Fuck this.' I stood up, blowing out a big puff of air that I had been holding in. She glanced up at me.
“Cam, babe, where are you going?” I hated her for calling me babe. It sent shivers down my spine and sparks between my legs.
“Bathroom,” I grunted. She frowned and I felt guilty, like she knew what I was doing.
“You alright? You look…” I turned and headed towards the bathroom.
“Never better,” I lied.
Once in the bathroom, I locked the door and then stood staring at it. Ever since she’d moved in with me, I never locked any of the doors, except the one separating us from the outside world. It hurt.
And it wasn’t like it was totally her fault that we hadn’t been together in a while. Being the ‘boy’ in our relationship, I always initiated sex. She’d give me little hints, and then we’d go from there. But there hadn’t been any hints, at least not ones that I had noticed, so I didn’t initiate. At first, I’d tried a couple of times, but she acted like she either wasn’t in the mood or couldn’t tell what I was trying to do. And now, like the idiot I am, I’ve decided to pretend like I don’t mind. If she doesn’t want any, neither do I.
I used to lose a lot of friends that way. They wouldn’t call for a while, and even though I wanted to call, I’d follow suit. A lot of the times, it would turn out they’d lost my number. And then I was fucked cause I had acted like they didn’t matter to me. It’s how I work. I don’t like putting myself out there for people. Maybe I’ve been hurt too many times and am damaged. Maybe I’m just chicken.
Amanda knocked on the door.
“Cam? I have to go to the bathroom. Can I come in?” I’d seen her use the bathroom 10 minutes earlier so she obviously didn’t have to go. She was probably just curious as the why I had locked the door. Most likely, she knew what I was up to.
“Cam?”
“No. I’m taking a shower.” I turned the water on.
“I can’t come in? I have to pee.”
“Use the other bathroom.” We never used the other bathroom. Mostly, we used it for storage.
“Uh-alright.” I could hear that I had hurt her. Now I wasn’t in the mood. Frustrated, I punched the wall. Hard.
“Fuck!” I screamed. I hadn’t realized how much it would hurt. “Shit!”
“Babe?” She knocked tentatively.
“What?” I yelled.
“Are you…”
“I’m fine.” I unlocked the door, and stormed out, brushing past her. I grabbed my leather jacket, and pulled it on, my hand on the doorknob.
“Where are you…” she began.
“Out.”
It was freezing outside. I started jogging to keep warm. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was this mad just because she didn’t want me? It’s not like we’re going to stay young forever. Eventually, we’d get old. Eventually, maybe passion alone wouldn't be enough to hold us together; We might have to rely on love. Maybe she didn’t love me. Hell, I wouldn’t after the shit I just pulled.
I slowed down, panting, and leaned against a tree. Somehow I had ended up in central park. I slumped down, burying my face in my hands. If only I didn’t lover her so Goddamn much. Then maybe I wouldn’t care if she were attracted to me or not. But I do care, and I was sick of being such an self-distructive idiot all the time.
I stood up, and began running again; I’d just have to get over myself, and tell her how I felt. I’d jump off a cliff for her if I had to.
My foot caught on a root, and I fell flat on my face. I sat up, dazed. My jeans were ripped at the knees, and I was bleeding, everywhere it seemed: my hands, knees, and face.
I got up anyway, and kept running. A block away, I realized my wrist was throbbing badly, and I couldn’t move it without gasping. I stopped to look at my reflection in a store window. Not only was I bleeding and sweating, but I was also crying. I look like one tough butch, I though sarcastically. It took me a while to get my keys out of my pocket. It was in my left pocket, and that hand wasn’t working so well.
Finally, I was inside our apartment. I heard someone crying in our living room. Fuck. I don’t think I’ve ever said that word so many times in one day before, or meant it so much.
“Amanda?” My voice was shaking. I ran into the living room, and froze. Janet had her arms wrapped around Amanda, and Amanda was sobbing against her chest. Something inside me snapped. Maybe it was the fact that Janet was Amanda’s ex-girlfriend who she has stayed close with, or maybe I’d just had enough for one day. Either way, I turned towards our bedroom.
“Cam!” I heard her get up from the couch, and run after me. I slammed the door in her face.
She stopped crying. I started crying again, and threw myself down on our bed. I’ve always been dramatic. I heard voiced coming from the other room, but couldn’t concentrate on them. I did hear the front door close. Did she leave with Janet? Oh God.
A minute later, the bedroom door opened. She let out a gush of air as she came in. I supposed she was happy I hadn’t locked her out. She lay down next to me, and I saw she had a wet cloth in her hand. Gently, she took my face in her hands and began cleaning my cuts. I flinched.
“Ow!”
“Sorry.” She stopped touching me. I turned over so she couldn't see me crying. I was really pissed she had called Janet.
“Make love to me,” she whispered. “Please.” A tear ran down my cheek.
“I’m not in the mood,” I lied.
“Let me help you get there,” she begged.
“I don’t want to be in the mood with you right now.” She removed her arm from around my waist, and turned to face the other direction. I felt the bed tremble as she cried.
After a while, I calmed down enough to notice how badly was wrist hurt, so I got up to get some ice. When I got back, Amanda had turned the lights off.
“Amanda?” I whispered. No answer. I knew she wasn’t sleeping but she obviously didn’t want to talk to me. “Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” She shifted under the covers. I could sense her looking at me in the dark.
“Do what you want.” I climbed in next to her, careful not to touch her in case she didn’t want me to.
When I woke up in the morning she was gone. I panicked for an instant before I realized it was Monday and she had left for work. I showered, watching the water turn pink. My wrist was swollen to an unimaginable size. I avoided looking at it. I turned off the water, and that was about when the doorbell rang.
I buzzed who ever it was up, and waited at the door in shorts and my sports bra.
It was Janet. I gazed at her fiercely.
“Amanda’s not here,” I spat.
“I didn’t come here for Amanda. I mean, I came her for Amanda, but not to see her.” I raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t know I’m here.”
Reluctantly I held the door open for her and she walked in.
“Jesus Christ, what did you do to yourself?” she asked. That got my smiling. I sunk into my favorite seat and she sat on the sofa.
“I destroyed myself.” She smiled back.
“At least you know it.” I had a feeling she wasn’t talking about my physical injuries.
“She loves you, you know.” I stopped smiling. My chin quivered.
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said. I sat there thinking.
“Still?”
“I don’t think she could stop if she wanted to. She’s an idiot sometimes.” Janet winked at me. I felt better.
“I love her too.” My voice sounded so small. It fit. I felt small.
“I know.” I took a deep breath.
“I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone before.” Janet looked at me expectantly. “I’m scared.” She nodded.
Suddenly, I felt free. I stood up.
“You can leave now,” I smiled. Janet seemed confused. I led her to the door. “Thanks,” I said, and I meant it. “I don’t want to seem rude and kick you out, but I’ve got a lot to do before she gets home.”
“Oh. You're welcome, then.” I decided to walk out with her.
It was 5:00 before I got home, an hour before she would arrive. There was this movie that Amanda and I used to watch all the time, and there was this scene where the main character comes home to flower pedals strewn around the house. Amanda always got choked up at that part, so I bought three-dozen roses and went to work de-plucking them. I scattered them everywhere.
Next, I chopped up a gorgeous fruit-salad and stuck it in the fridge along with a huge bowl of homemade whipped cream. I put water on to boil and set the table.
It took me a minute to make a CD of 20 of our favorite songs. That went in the CD player. Amanda’s a sucker for candles so I lit everyone I could find. I’m surprised I didn’t burn the house down. I also got dressed up in black fitted slacks, and a white form-fitting button up blouse. I even combed my short dark hair.
When the doorbell rang at six, I was waiting by the door. I knew she had forgotten her keys. They were still hanging on the hook. It took me a while to open the door. I only had one good hand, after all.
She looked confused when she saw me.
“Hey,” I said. I felt shy, like the first time I’d asked her out.
“Hi.” She seemed nervous as well.
“We need to talk.” I saw her gulp.
“Yeah,” she squeaked. I took her hand with my good one, and led her to the living room. I had been careful to make sure she couldn’t see the decorations from the hallway, and I felt her gasp when she saw them. I let go of her hand and sat down on the couch watching her take it all in. She was smiling as tears dripped down her cheeks. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as beautiful.
All of a sudden, I realized she felt awkward. I still hadn’t explained myself. I stood up and pulled her towards me.
“You look beautiful,” I murmured.
“I look like shit,” she laughed. I pulled her closer.
“You’ll never be anything but beautiful,” I whispered.
“I don’t feel beautiful,” she sighed. I drew back.
“Dinner?” I asked. She seemed puzzled, but nodded. I pulled the lobsters out of the pot and set them next to the green beans. Green beans are her favorite vegetable. She didn’t say anything, and neither did I. It was a comfortable silence. We were both ravenous. She helped me crack my lobster and fed it to me. I tried to do the same and her lobster almost ended up on the floor. We laughed. I wanted to forget the past couple days hadn’t existed, but she needed me to explain them. She didn’t say so, but I knew. It was time to get serious.
“I sorry,” I said, looking into her eyes. She stopped smiling. She gripped my hand harder but I didn’t pull it away even though the pain almost made me cry. “I’m so, so sorry,” I said again. “I love you so much.” My voice faltered. I took a deep breath. “I was afraid you didn’t want me anymore.” She looked puzzled. I blushed. “I was afraid you weren’t…attracted to me.” Her mouth formed an O. “I don’t like getting close to people, because then they can hurt me. I’ve never let anyone get as close as I’ve let you get. I was just so afraid.” My eyes begged her to understand me. She did.
She leaned over and kissed me lightly on the lips ,and then giggled. I drew back, upset that she could find something funny in what I had just said.
“I thought you were bored with me.” She smiled. “I’ll ask next time.” Amanda paused, and I realized how vulnerable she looked. “Were…were you at least thinking of me when…when you got off in the bathroom?” She spoke so softly I could barely hear here. It was my turn to smile.
“No.” Her bottom lip trembled. “Hey,” I whispered, holding her face in my hands. I kissed her. “I couldn’t do it.” She kissed me back. “I couldn’t do it,” I said again, slipping my tongue into her mouth. She moaned. “I couldn’t…” I couldn’t speak anymore. My crotch was on fire. Somehow, she had slipped her hand up my shirt without me noticing. I stopped kissing her and we panted, our foreheads still touching. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” I told her. She sat back and looked me in the eye. I held her gaze. For a second I heard the music playing in the background. All my attention was back on her when she spoke.
“I’ve waited so long for you to say that.” I pulled a small black box out of my pocket and handed it to her. Tears fell down her face again. I was surprised to realize they were falling down mine as well.
“Will you?” I managed to say, my voice croaking. She wrapped her arms around me, taking the box from me.
“Hmm.” She nipped my ear playfully, and then sucked on it. “Let me think…”
“Amanda!” I moaned.
“Of course,” she whispered. Her hot breath tickled my ear and I almost came just from that. She felt me stiffen a bit. The hand that hand been circling my nipped swiftly unbuttoned my pant and slipped between my legs. I was dripping and she felt it. “Oh!” she exclaimed happily.
“See,” I boasted. “Not bored.”
Her blue eyes shown brightly as her fingers pumped in and out of my, brushing against my inflamed clit every couple of strokes. I came faster than I’d ever come before and was not embarrassed in the slightest.
I relaxed in my chair for a while before dragging her to her feet and leading her over to the couch. I pushed her skirt up and knelt between her legs, ripping her underwear off. She felt my hand drifting up her thigh and protested.
“Oh, don’t! You’ll hurt your hand,” she murmured. I hadn’t even noticed.
“This old thing?” I said holding it up. Amanda nodded, her eyes still closed. Quickly, I shoved three fingers into her. She gasped, and sat up straight before relaxing again as I built up a steady rhythm.
“I think I’ll manage,” I laughed. She didn’t smile. She was too far gone. All of a sudden I got this urge. I couldn’t resist. I stopped thrusting and pulled my hand out.
“Are you sure you want me to stop. If you still worried about my hand, I’m sure you can finish.” I was grinning broadly. I knew how badly she needed me. I felt wanted again.
“I’ll kill you,” she moaned, grabbing my hand fiercely, and shoving it deep inside her. We came at the same time, flooding the room with our scent.
The fruit salad sat untouched in the fridge. I had other things on my mind that night.