Character, Morals and Reputation

 

Almost pulled an old Kay stunt today. Yesterday character, morals and reputation had a collision and it was ugly. Yes, ugly.

It involves, you guessed it, Mr. Eye Candy from yesterday. I know Mr. Candy. He lives here. He is the hottest 51 year old man around here – honestly has most men half his age beat by a mile. He took me under his wing when he discovered that I was staying here with two other men, MB’s co-workers, while he had to be in Arizona for the week.

Told me the best places to eat, where to find what I needed, and so forth since I was on foot. He even gave me a key to another apartment in case it got too uncomfortable living with the other guy bunking with us until MB got back here. No strings attached. I felt blessed to have scored such a friend.

He is 100% gentleman. He loves to flirt. I spend a lot of time with Mr. Candy and his friends. Herein lies the problem. Simple things like me coming into the apartment with a smile on my face from laughing so much listening to them talk or MB waking up from one of his doze-offs on the couch while tv and not finding me sitting here at the computer, watching him sleep or anywhere in the apartment. I’m downstairs sitting with the neighbors.

Last night Mr. Candy had a little too much to drink. Everyone else had gone home or in for the night. He needed to close his business up so I went with him to make sure that he would get it closed up tight. I figure Mr. Candy needed to be in bed. My character side just took his arm and led him inside his apartment, dumped him in bed and left.

Apparently MB woke up and couldn’t find me. He walked around the block looking for me. I was at the picnic tables when he got back. I get tired of defending myself so I just gave him a look – which he promptly misunderstood.

I will explain a little here: I am a recovering alcoholic. I lost my kids and my first husband because of it. Mr. Candy has two businesses he maintains, plus a job at the shipyard. Toward the evening, he drinks – sometimes too much. The look I shot Mike was one of “is there hope for my friend” not of “hey, I just slept with another guy”.

MB’s grand stand was “you just don’t go into another man’s apartment, it looks bad.”

In my head I’m building my defense, again. I get so weary from having to defend the right thing to do against the proper thing to do. I was repeating my mantra in my head “no es importante, no tiene importancia” (it is not important, it doesn’t matter) when a line from a movie popped into my head: “If it were the proper thing to wear a codfish on your head, would you?”

I just told MB that no one saw me, and that even he wouldn’t know if I hadn’t told him. I could have lied, told him what he wanted to hear and not the truth.

Things are not good today. We are barely speaking. I am barely speaking, I have nothing to say. I packed my bags, and started to shut down again, withdrawing into my own world and into my head. The old Kay isn’t entirely gone, but she didn’t win this round – she just wasn’t strong enough.

We did share something special yesterday. We put our feet in the Atlantic for the first time, together.