Without Moral Compass

Welcome back dear reader. It's been over a year since I've posted on this blog. Many things in my life have changed. I'm no longer homeless, living with people who care about me and working at a car wash struggling to get back on my feet still.

Alright, so where was I? Oh yes, my crazy 20's, being promiscuous and getting herpes from a prostitute. Back then, I had no moral compass. I cared for nobody, except my grandmother. Even after getting an STD I didn't really change, except that I would always use protection so I wouldn't spread the disease. So maybe there was a slight change, but not enough to avoid the mistakes I made. I'm about to share one of the most memorable mistakes.

There was this young girl from the high school that fell for me. She introduced me to her mother, who approved of me (for her own reasons which you will soon find out) and I became her "boyfriend" for 2 weeks. I just went along with it because it was convenient. I'd go there to hang out, her mother would make these great meals and always smiling and welcoming. We'd make out, but nothing else because I knew she was a virgin and at one point she'd want more than just my hands in her shirt.

Back then I was very accurate when it came to young females, because to tell the truth, I felt that I was not good enough for females my age (or older).

At the end of the second week of being together it happened. As expected she wanted more. Her mother was at work, so we did it to Gary Wright's "Dream Weaver" song. As soon as it was over, I knew she had realized that we were not meant to be together. She broke up with me, I was a bit hurt but was fine with it and went home. 

Two days later I get a call from her mother and I start to freak out. Her daughter was not 18, so I thought "the mother must've found out that we had sex and anytime now I'm going to have the cops at my door".

Nope. Instead she was consoling me over the breakup with her daughter! Telling me that she was not mature enough to handle a relationship with me, that instead I needed someone more mature. We spoke for about two hours on the phone (no texting back then) and by the end of it, she was clearly flirting with me.

Let me repeat now, I had no moral compass. She asked me to come over that night, and I did. As promiscuous as I had been, that night she taught me a few things. That is not the crazy part. What I could not believe, is that she was being very... verbal, explicit and quite loud. Her room was next to her daughter's. There was no doubt in my mind that my ex-girlfriend could hear me getting busy with her mom.

I spent the night, and the next morning I wake up to hear them arguing. This is what I recall of it (may not be 100% accurate).

"How could you do this to me?"

"You broke up with him, you said you didn't love him. So now that I have him, you want him back?"

"I don't want him back!"

"Good, because he is mine now."

"You don't understand! he is too young for you!"

"But you were old enough for him?"

"It's not the same! This is wrong, he is my ex!"

"You'll get over it. He is my boyfriend now."

I hear a door being slammed, and the mother coming back to her bedroom (I was still in her bed) asking me if I'd like eggs and toast for breakfast. I said yes, and next thing we're eating breakfast in the dining room.

You'd think that after hearing the argument between mother and daughter, I would have had the common sense to leave, nope. I was too selfish. I could tell I had acquired a sugar mamma, my first (and not the last). She'd buy me clothes, give me money, pay for meals when going out and buy weed we'd smoke together in her bedroom. It lasted a few months. I would still have sex with the girls in my neighborhood, I wasn't monogamous. 

The arguments between mother and daughter would get more intense. It reached a point when I thought that if I didn't end things... their relationship would be beyond repair. It was one of the few occasions when I actually did the right thing back then (better late than never).

I can honestly say now that it did affect me, and that it took years to get Gary Wright's "Dream Weaver" song out of my head every time I hooked up with a girl that looked like the daughter. Still to this day the song makes me feel a little sad, like I lost something.

The only person who ever knew about this story was my late wife. I hope in the end that walking away helped mend their relationship somehow.

Until next time.

May you walk in the light of God.

Sincerely.

Luis

My Crazy 20's and another Deep Secret

Welcome back reader; today I will share the beginning of my crazy 20's with a secret that I've only told a few people in my life.

During the 2 years I worked with Lou, I picked up bad habits from him. Drinking, smoking weed and having sex with prostitutes on a regular basis became normal to me. In between deliveries in the middle of the day, Lou would either drive to a brothel in Manhattan or to a spot in Brooklyn with young street hookers at least once a week.

If that wasn't enough, the seniors at the nearby high school would pay me to get them weed and beer. What started as a profitable "favor" for a few guys, turning into invites to weekend parties. I was always invited because I was one of the few that could legally bring a Keg of beer (or 4).

Usually I was the older guy that brought the goods (and made a few bucks doing it). Young females would practically throw themselves at me during those parties. It started on weekends, then they started looking for me every day in the afternoon (after work).

I became very promiscuous, having sex at home while my grandmother was not home, or at a girl's home while her parents were away and even at a nearby park at night. I didn't care for them, and neither did they. I was just a hookup and I was alright with that.

However everything comes at a price. I had always been careful to wear protection (I spent hundreds in packs of Trojan condoms over the years). One Friday after work, Lou drove to a bar where I had one too many beers. He thought it was funny every time I was drunk. Usually he would have driven back to our neighborhood, and drop me off in front of the building I lived.

Not that night. He drove to the spot where he picked up hookers. Lou turned to me and said "it's on me buddy, pick one" and I pointed at a young black girl that looked very attractive. She got in the back of the van. I moved back and joined her. At the time, I was not thinking clearly. I didn't wear protection. If that wasn't bad enough, once I was finished and went back to the passenger seat, Lou climbed to the back and said "My turn".

I woke up Saturday morning with a slight hangover, not thinking about the hooker at all. That night three parties with more sex, beer and weed made it another normal weekend for me. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday flew by. Every day after work I'd hook up with one or more girls from the high school.

I was 21 years old and didn't care, I was selfish to the extreme. Like the saying goes "Young, Dumb and Full of C*m". Until Thursday morning that is. I woke up half asleep and went straight to the bathroom to find that I had sores where there should be none. I got scared and called Lou right away. He then reminded me about the black girl we had been with the previous week.

I screamed "Fuck!" so loud that my grandma who was still home, asked me what was going on. I lied and said I had dropped my watch in the sink. Lou told me we were not going to work that day, that we needed to go to a clinic to have ourselves checked out.

Back then AIDS was a death sentence, and we both were scared that we had gotten it. He had used protection with the hooker but was still scared out of his mind. His wife knew he cheated, but to get an STD (sexually transmitted disease) would certainly end the marriage and she was the kind of woman that would've cleaned him out.

He drove to a clinic in Manhattan where we got tested (he paid for all of it). We had to wait a week for results. That week all we did was work. No drinking, no weed, no partying. I was too scared to do anything except work.

My promiscuous lifestyle lead to one of the scariest moments in my life. How would I explain to my grandma if I had AIDS? how could I tell her the way I had gotten it? I knew that if I had AIDS, that I would tell her; she meant so much to me that there was no way for me to hide something that important from her.

The following Thursday we went back to the clinic. Lou had a clean bill of health, the female doctor spent only a few minutes with him. My time with her was different. She asked me to sit down, telling me we "need to talk". Right there I broke down and started to cry. I thought I was going to die a painful death from AIDS like I had read in newspapers and watched on TV.

She tried to calm me down, knowing exactly what I feared she said "you don't have AIDS". I looked at her and asked if she was sure. She nodded. In that moment, I was relieved and happy to be alive. That didn't last long. She waited a few minutes then hit me with "you have Herpes". I had no idea what that was, until she explained. An STD that had no cure, a disease that I would have to carry the rest of my life.

I was shocked, repeatedly asking if she was sure there was no cure for it. Patiently she kept shaking her head. She then proceeded to explain that even though there was no cure, that it could be treated so I could deal with the symptoms. She wrote a prescription for pills that would help me with the pain from the sores and another drug to make things less severe. She said my body would eventually adapt to it, but that it could take months and even years to have minimal symptoms.

Walking out of the room with a long face, Lou thought I had AIDS, and for the first time I saw compassion on his face. He softly said "I'm so sorry man". When I told him I had Herpes, his compassion vanished and he laughed so hard that people started to stare.

He shouted "Dude, Herpes? Really?" making it one of the most embarrassing moments in my life. The day had gone from fearing for my life to knowing I had a disease which had no cure.

After that day, I never had sex with any girl without protection. Not only for my own good but because I never wanted to give anyone else the disease I had. The first year was painful, being "active" (with sores either in my mouth or elsewhere) one week every month. I didn't take any other medication after I ran out of the stuff that the doctor prescribed. I wanted my body to adapt naturally without drugs.

Over the years the symptoms have lessened and I've been extremely careful to avoid sharing the cursed disease with anyone. I wouldn't wish it on my worse enemy.

Back then I didn't tell any of the girls I slept with that I had it. I thought that being careful and avoiding contact during my "active" period (there is a pun there somewhere) was enough. Yeah, I was reckless, selfish and a total asshole. Considering the odds (I slept with hundreds of girls in my 20's) I'm lucky none got it.

That wasn't the only crazy thing I went through during those years. There was the twins, the daughter and mother situation, and more.

It's not easy to share things on a blog, secrets that only those who were closest to me knew. However this is a form of therapy, to let me deal with the homelessness I'm going through right now. I look back at my past, to remind me of the lessons I learned, to avoid repeating mistakes.

Until next time.

May you walk in the light of God.

Sincerely.

Luis