my dad fuked me

It starts the same way. Standing in my living room with the phone ringing. Around me, walls rip away, frames are sucked into the sky, the ground cracks, everything is chaos, and yet, there was no sound apart from that damn ringing. I try to stop myself, but as always, like every other time, I walk over, the dream refusing to end, refusing to let go. I pick up the phone, and hear the words, “Is this David Leonard? Sir, there’s been an accident…”

And as always, I jerk awake, my face drenched in sweat. As always, I just sit by the edge of the bed and while waiting for the tears to stop, think about my past, what I had lost.

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I was 16 when I met my wife. It should have been nothing special, just a friend introducing her to me, but from the moment I met Jeanne, it just sort of clicked, no matter how corny it may sound. Jeanne was a pretty 5’5 brunette with brown eyes and a smile that could warm the coldest of days. Despite looking very ordinary, wearing jeans with a loose green top at the time, I found myself being more attracted to her than any of our college sluts who go around wearing tight tops and skirts that look more like belts. She was something different, something special.

We went to the same college, were chosen for the same university, most of my young adult years was spent with her, my closest friend. As we grew older, the line between friends/couple became increasingly strained, sideway glances turning into guilty smiles, guilty smiles turning into flirting, flirting turning into teasing, but neither of us took it any further. Too scared, too proud or the fear of rejection, I don’t know, but it looked like I would forever remain in the friend zone, which is the worst place for a guy to be. Fact.

That changed when Jeanne had invited me as her +1 for cousin’s wedding, both of us being 19 at the time. I had already been introduced to her parents, John and Nadine, and they seemed to like me, so it wasn’t awkward or out of the blue.