Alexithymia

Dot Dot Dot That Kid Gets In The Way. End Quote
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Lets not talk of this again, there’s too much to cover.

She called me today. She didn’t even sound upset. She said Pan was fine and that she went on a trip with some friends.

She said she wanted to meet me at the Café II around noon. I had taken my absence from school some time ago. I’m not even sure how long it’s been. They weren’t happy with me, but I don’t care. When they questioned me about it, I put it very bluntly that I was going through a divorce and a psychiatric break simultaneously and they let me be.

When I got there she was in her business attire. Black skirt, black heels, tan pantyhose with black blazer over white blouse. Her hair was in a bun so tight it looked like it pulled her scalp back.

I looked like shit.

My shirt wasn’t even tucked into my pants.

I slouched into my seat. She cleared her throat and graciously informed me that I was late. Again.

I checked my watch and damned if I wasn’t.

She went on about how legal separation wasn’t enough and she wanted to get on with her life. I nodded numbly.

She had some of the papers today. I took them and signed away without so much as a thought.

When she asked me why I didn’t bother reading them I asked her what good it would do. She sighed and told me I needed to take this seriously. I told her I was and she called me a joke and jabbed at my appearance.

I just thought she was being a bitch.

I couldn’t help but think that all this happening so fast was the result of her pent up aggression and hostility toward me. Next time I’ll remember to put the toilet seat down and watch those chick flicks with you. This was happening way too fast to understand.

Come to think of it, she’s probably had those papers for some time now. I handed them back and she checked them over to make sure I didn’t forget anything. She put them in her briefcase bag thing. It was an odd, hideous item that probably came off designer shelves.

She hadn’t told Pan yet. I had this gut feeling that she already knew though. The house was in her name and she had the right to sell it. She told me to go live with my lover. Her voice was so bitter it could have soured her low-fat, no-carb, ten-calorie, watered down soy mocha latte with ginger on top. I shouldn’t be talking. I’ve drunk the same thing and liked it.

But I said nothing and just accepted what she had to say.

I hate myself sometimes, you know?

When I went home, I collapsed in our bed and cried. If anyone were to have walked in, I would have denied it. The roof leaks on my pillow. It’s just one of those things. My cheeks are flushed because I have a fever. My eyes are bloodshot and puffy because I have allergies.

Piccolo came by about an hour after I got home. Most of the show was already over by then and I was laying in the fetal position clutching my pillow and making this pathetic raggedy whining sound when I couldn’t take it anymore.

I sounded like a toddler who didn’t get the candy he wanted.

I didn’t want to feel anymore.

I had gotten what I wanted and I never felt worse.

I called my daughter when I got home. She was camping with some friends and they sounded like they were having a blast. It was some school trip thing about three hours away. I told her to be safe and have fun and that I missed her terribly. She said “Thanks dad, I love you, see you later!” and hung up. That’s when I broke down.

Piccolo stood by the bed and just watched me. I didn’t have to move to see the disappointment in his eyes. He eventually moved to sit next to me on the bed. He adjusted his weight awkwardly. He never did trust cushions with springs in them. He asked me what was wrong in his own special way—by making a discontent grunting noise in my general direction. I told him I wanted to be alone, which was only a half-truth.

He sighed and told me no.

I told him I was okay and that I just needed time.

He told me it’s been three months.

He was a liar, it couldn’t have been. Ridiculous.

I rolled over and covered my head with a blanket. I didn’t want him to see me. I didn’t want him to waste words on me.

And he didn’t.

He picked me up by the belly and dragged me out of bed and across the hall, into the bathroom with it’s huge picture mirror and made me look at myself. He made me. What I saw terrified me.

I had the start of a scruffy beard forming, my hair had grown long and unkempt, it was almost to my chin now. The dark circles under my eyes looked like the result of playing in tar and I had grown thin.

It was disgusting. Even my teeth were yellowed. Kami.

“Gohan” he said neither sternly nor gently.

I looked at him with my mouth partially agape.

“Stop” and I nodded. I wanted him to tell me what to be.

He left me there and went back to my bedroom only to reappear with a shirt and pants and told me to clean myself up.

So I did.

It took me three hours before I felt better about myself. I hate that mirror and that damn glass shower door. I can see myself no matter where I go.

Goddamn, I’m a fur-bearing mammal. There’s something about being a hybrid that can fuck you over in that manner. I’m pretty sure I shaved about half the surface of my body just so I felt a little younger, looked a little more attractive. My wife hated body hair and I don’t think Pic approved either. I kinda liked it, but that didn’t stop me from shaving my chest.

I hate cutting my hair. It always looks like I was run over with a lawnmower. I cut it a little too short this time and my razor wasn’t as sharp as it needed to be, so it looked like I did a hack job to my face as well.

I’d live.

When I finally got out of the shower, I didn’t bother getting dressed and came out in my towel. I wasn’t trying to make a point or do anything drastic, I just liked air-drying. I like the feeling of water evaporating on my skin, it feel so clean.

Piccolo was meditating on my couch without his armor on. I think he can just will it to disappear. He opened his eyes and glanced at me and told me to get dressed.

I said no.

We never agreed on this sort of thing.

When I sat down next to him, he didn’t acknowledge it. I leaned up against him and he shifted away from me. I felt like dying. I asked him how this was going to work out. He admitted that he didn’t know.

I hated that.

One of us needed to know what was going on and it damn sure wasn’t going to be me.

I told him to hold me and he gave me this look that he was going to say no then challenge me to a sparring match to the death.

Then he did it, albeit awkwardly. I nuzzled my way into his chest and he moved to accommodate me.

He needed a shower too. It should have bothered me that my cleanness was being invaded by his musky forestness, but it didn’t.

I told him that I would talk him through it and that everything would be ok. He didn’t seem keen on the idea. I tried to shift my way closer to him but he kept blocking me. I told him that I could win if I wanted to. He told me that I needed to get in shape.

But he noted that I could still beat him based on power alone.

I think it kind of bothered him in a way.

I kept at it though and he never completely gave up. I don’t think ‘quit’ was in either of our vocabularies.

He’d never let me touch him the way I wanted to though.

I think it’s partly because he feels so much older than me—because he is the teacher and I am the student. If only he realized that things aren’t that simple.

We have rules about us. I can kiss him, but he can’t kiss me. I can touch and pet him to a point, but he cannot reciprocate. He took a vow of inaction that makes my mind spin.

But one day, he’ll break.

One day he’ll be able to kiss me and he won’t feel sick.

One day he’ll be able to make love to me but we’ll never have sex. I had plenty of sex with my wife and I felt nothing. I refuse to feel empty in this. I cannot repeat.

And one day, maybe, we’ll have our own little place in the world.

Just us.

And that kid won’t get in the way anymore.

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Notes Hope you enjoyed this chapter; it took a little longer than I had expected to get up. It should be noted that there is a brief crossing of this story and my other story Quote Unquote ( http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4173489/1/Quote_Unquote ). It’s not going to span more than a sentence or two in subsequent chapters; it’s more of a cameo thing, but should be entertaining nevertheless.