TWO: Absolute trust

georgia-o_keeffe-american-1887-1986-the-lawrence-tree

 

(may be upsetting)

The agreement is made, unquestioningly, in absolute trust. 

That phrase, absolute trust, was the man’s. We have absolute trust in one another he wrote and repeated it, as if marvelling at an unusual experience.

I’ve never had absolute trust in anyone. I thought that must be a weakness in me that I ought to overcome, since the opportunity had unexpectedly presented itself. Go on, I told me. Trust. Absolute. And immediately thought of Swedish vodka.

I don’t want to do it again, I said. I don’t want to do that fumbling in a car thing stuff. I really, really don’t like it. It makes me feel terrible. So I’ll just meet you for lunch in a public place and you won’t touch me, ok?

I don’t want to do anything that upsets you, he said. Anything you don’t want too. Absolute trust, remember?

J drops me off at the National Library. He’s there at the bottom of the steps, leaning on his vehicle. I am so happy to see him. We hug each other. He says, I’m on a double yellow line, I’ll have to move. So I hop in. I need to pee, I tell him. I anticipate him saying, I’ll hover here while you go in the Library. Or, I’ll look for a parking spot while you go inside. Instead he pulls away from the kerb and says, there’s a place near the lake where there are toilets. Ok, I say, practising absolute trust like I told myself I should.

I don’t know what I’m feeling for the hours he stays parked in the trees beside the lake. Now I know. It was:  I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to be here doing this. I told you no. I fucking told you no and you said you wouldn’t. Stop. Don’t treat me like this, how dare you treat me like this?

Now I know I wanted to hit him, tear his clothes, punch him off me, scream at him to get off my fucking body, claw his face with my fingernails, bite great pieces out of him. Now I know, but then it was all inchoate, as things can be during the course of entirely unexpected and intense events, and I took flight, to a corner of the car, from which I watched me.

I do say: You agreed you wouldn’t do this.  He does say: You are irresistible. I can’t keep my hands off you. I have to fuck you. I love you.

There is nothing in my adult life I have wanted less than to be in that place in that way at that time.

Absolut.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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2 thoughts on “TWO: Absolute trust

  1. Yes, it is upsetting. I wonder if these last two posts are inspired by Bongiorno’s (is that how you spell it?) comment regarding the double lives of priests he had known. So forgive me if I’m going off on the wrong tangent here.

    I’d been thinking about that situation, and mine, for a while. This thought arrived unbidden by Royal Commissions or therapy: The last time someone told me that I was irresistible, gorgeous, loved by him – with the unspoken caveat that I must keep it a secret because if people find out they won’t understand and there will be trouble … I was a kid the last time I heard that.

    And now I’m an adult, still responding in the same manner and feeling like I’ve been groomed for this situation most of my life. Or regressed back to that state, at least. My fury at this knowledge is a full blown assault. A shower-rage-weeping kind of fury that takes place in a vacuum, thanks to the secret-keeping nature of the affair. Still, I want to blow the whole thing wide open. I want to watch the world burn.
    By lunch time I’ve usually given up looking for matches and kerosene, aware of the consequent carnage, and by evening I am the lover again.

    Liked by 1 person

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