That long ago I came from a contract job. Typical for a contractor, nothing new under the sun.
Quite a contract it was. In one of those places you wouldn't even like to visit on a map. Have to bring the bacon home.
A location where being a Sissy is not really a suitable disclosure. Exit the baggy t-shirts, even the air conditioned portions were unbearably warm and humid.
Even the plain undercoated (think spanx) boob erasing undershirt was a close-call.
“Hey, is that a bra of sorts you have on ?”
“No way Bro, just a light medical brace to help with that bad back I earned on recent job mishap...”
A Sissy in a rough male world. More at ease on the rugged laptop that spinning heavy wrenches. A Sissy with boobs to hide. Namely, me.
Eventually it was over and I made it home sweet home. Plenty of good things ahead on the roster.
At least so I taught...
Something went wrong right from the start. Shower, fragrance. Nightie.
No go. Better try another one, maybe a full slip ?
No joy. Like a fever, uneasy, restless. Loosing even situation awareness. Where the hell am I ? Looks like home. Logically there should be a shower. Because I dearly need to rub down the “Poison” fragrance.
All's so freaking dumb, am I stupid, I love that perfume.
Many coffees later, firing up the office computer. That many pending updates. Aw, crap, did I just delete days of incoming mails ?
Need to get away, run. From what ? It's all calm and cozy. Why should I ? What's the real threat ?
Logically it can't be but me. Suddenly I am a threat to myself as my former life does not seem to fit right.
Sleepless night. Fairy Dear, where are you ? No. better take a pill and go to bed. Tough luck, no pills, I don't have of those.
Early morning birds sing all their might. Sun's showing. Time to act. Quick. Throwing things in a bag.
That old cabin in the mountains should do it. All alone, all away from what seems so uncomfortable. My Sissy life.
Smash the phone? Nah, better tell my Spouse that I'm away for a few days before she wrecks havoc or declares me missing.
How much sleep is too much sleep? Seems like a week of cornflakes, condensed milk and cigarettes. That's how much creative I was when I stopped for shopping on my drive to there.
Absolute absence. Staring at the valley down below for hours. Only if I could fly. Merge with that empty space. Then fall asleep again. And again.
No I'm not a Sissy. I'm a real man. It's all over. I'm cured. I'm like those tough guys.
More days pass. Alea jacta est. That cabin needs some work and I'll take care of business. Like a rough tough right in his mind guy. Oh yeah ! A sweat smelling roughneck of sorts.
Kid has school holidays ? Who cares. I'm rebuilding the porch. Customers keep calling ? No go, I'm busy fixing the shower.
Good thing my Spouse got the message loud and clear and took care of all I left behind. At least tried her best.
-“Come back to your senses, we're loosing business. We miss you. “
-“I'm good. All that matters.”
Switching off the phone. Once again. Once too many.
Yes. She's right. I might as well have blown a fuse. All fuses.
In the process of destroying what took decades to establish. But finally I am free.
At lest as free as I can be short of killing myself.
Continues here
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