Monday, September 24, 2018

See you in 18 years!

It seems like only yesterday when I was at the changing table - for diapers. I was settling into my new role with a newborn haphazardly. It dawned on me that my dream of running away with the love of my life was gone, if I ever manage to find one. She doesn't need to be the love of my life, but maybe a gorgeous woman who likes me for what I am, income, looks and everything else. The dream wasn't dead, but it had to be put away for at least 18 years.

And I was so lucky that it was perhaps the only worry!

The phrase "see you in 18 years" has a new meaning when you have a newborn. If I can't get justice against you, I will send my kid after you, in 18 years' time. He/she will be well trained, well-educated, and a legal, lethal weapon targeted at your demise.

I see it coming but didn't feel it, until now. First, the public examins, the relaxation, the college visits, and the farewell social activities. Now that she's gone, I almost choked up at the little things in her room that reminded me of what I did for her.

It could have been so much better for her if I were more successful. If I could fight harder to spend more time in her upbringing. She could have been accepted in the top universities, with a big scholarship, in a sorted after field, ending up in a high paying job. Yes, I've been there except for the top part. But since then I am certified smart with all the public documents to show for.

But all is not lost. She isn't there but not far away. And she has all the opportunities in the world.

I'm afraid she wouldn't remember the little things I did for her, hanging up the baby things, window tinting, and making custom DVD's with custom designed/copied labels and case. Indeed, she has a good life better than her siblings - everything is organic. She has all the big birthday parties like any other child in the neighborhood. And she was very proud of her dad until she was in school, when the family fortune goes downhill.

I wish I could have done a lot more. But I shouldn't be sad. She lived in one of the safest cities in the nation, but with the convenience of nearing major urban/cultural/business centers. She spent all her life so far in her own room, a single family house with a big yard in the suburbs, managed by a menacing HOA.

Well, maybe not a iPhone that many of her friends have since middle school. But that's one of the things that I didn't mess her up.

I never worry about being alone when all my kids are gone. But now I'm afraid of all the memories if they don't end up well. It will be a life of regret of not doing enough.

Oh yes, compared to other teens and young women that I met, my kid should be very happy.

I don't think escorts are necessarily miserable. I have done enough of hanging out, shopping, wine and dine. The money is good and they worry about what car should they drive. When they are not happy with you, they just lie there so you have to give them more incentive next time. But when they are happy, they will give you a surprise kiss, the tongue or anything else.

Like Margaret, the pretty schoolgirl, who must be over 21 now, after a few years still can't stop responding to music when I was holding her naked body to body while napping after sex. She is still struggling to get me talking.

Of course, not everybody lives with their mothers and hooks up for pocket money for luxury things. Some pay for college themselves. Some just need the money.

It's hard to keep a big dark secret that you can't tell anyone. It's hard for me but I do enjoy what I do, unlike many of them. And there are no friends in the business. I think Margaret still regret mentioning Chanel 2, who thought Margaret introduced her to me and texted Margaret when we were in bed. I haven't seen them both for a while since then and they may be blaming each other.

And when I have the money, I can only pick one - she who kisses me a lot and with tongue. I thought Chanel 2 has more potential but when I met Margaret again she didn't give anyone else any chance.

One more thing, my happy reserve is officially completely depleted. That gave me so much fond memories and carried me over crisis after crisis. But I'm also sad, not that I can't carry on bonking as much as I like. You never know what tomorrow will bring. I still feel the same when I was at the changing table, except that my eyesights are a little poorer, with a little beer belly, and a little love handle. But I don't lose a single hair after washing and they stop turning white.

Just the other day I went into the grocery bank with my tees and shorts. Did you ever see a teller making a mistake? I have seen him a few times and he still seems nervous. He got the number wrong. He is far from handsome and I think he is gay.

I am sad because I could have done better with the money, like investments. But I just don't have extra physical and mental energy to deal with anything not the most necessary. I'm lucky just to stay sane.


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