Free Let's Be Honest by Scott Hildreth Page A

,” she said in a mocking tone.
    “I hope Erik will have a house warming party, it’d be gre at to have everyone over. Erik says this is ours , not his. He said we got it together . This is just crazy,” I said as I looked around the kitchen.
    I was excited at the thought the home, in Erik’s eyes, being ours.
    “You didn’t hear?” she said, looking up from the box of silverware.
    “Hear what?” I said.
    “About the party?” she asked.
    I shook my head.
    “Oh, maybe it was supposed to be a surprise ,” she said.
    I raised my eyebrows in wonder.
    “Tell me,” I said, barely able to contain my excitement.
    She held her arms outstretched as far as she could, and mouthed the word ‘huge’.
    Huge. With Erik Ead, I would expect nothing less.
    Nothing less.
     
     
     
     
     
     
    ERIK. We all have a past. Denying it would be to deny our existence. True acceptance of our past allows us to stand, as we are today, with whatever pride we are able to muster. However, everyone has a portion of their past that will scare the hell out of the most fearless of men.
    To wha t degree the fear is felt or even understood depends on the events of the past, and one’s ability to comprehend or understand the events as being just that – something in the past.
    My past has been an eventful one, sexually speaking. I have always k nown that I used women as a tool, or a means of satisfaction of sorts. To me, a woman has always been no different than a car - something that I used as I needed to, and discarded when I was done.  As bad as that might sound, I have never misled a woman into thinking she would receive something from me that she wasn’t going to get. Most women eventually want so much more, or secretly hope that they’ll be the one .
    Knowing these things never prevented me from proceeding along the same path each time. Using a woman, telling her that she was going to receive sex and nothing else – then, after whatever time was required for her to develop some form of expectation or feelings, I would leave her.
    I would leave her before I felt pain, never considering what she may feel.
    My desires sexually changed over the years, and I used women to develop a means of understanding potential future women. To me, if one hundred percent of codependent women reacted a certain way, I knew that I could expect a certain reaction to a prescribed action. Using a woman was a way for me to compile data. Useful data. This useful data allowed me to proceed with other women more successfully.
    Sex, in itself, was a release. It was, to me, the same as being in a relationship or being married, without the commitment. A commitment requires one to open up, and that exposes the person who is opening to potential pain.
    Feeling a desire or necessity for another person, and not having that person meet that desire or expectation always crushed me. Based on this reason and this reason alone, I never let myself feel a desire or have an expectation toward another woman.
    Kelli finding the diary did not trouble me. She stated that she didn’t read it, and I believe her. The fact that I had kept it, forgotten about it, and eventually exposed her to it did.
    I love that woman, and I do not want to hurt her. Ever.
    Love is a powerful thing.
    But.
    I have not always loved.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    ERIK. Sitting at the fireplace, I opened the cover. The early entries were short and without much detail. As I flipped through the pages, I considered keeping it for recollection of memories - similar to Kelli keeping her treasures in the mason jar. Something to remind me of the past. Something to ignite the fire of what could become a vivid recollection of past experiences. A reminder of what got me to where I am today.
    Thumbing through the pages, I saw a familiar name.
    Danta.
    The entry was 2005, immediately after my 28 th birthday.
    I closed my eyes and though t of the day we finally spent time together