Hello. My name is Erik Palme and I am a pervert.
Wait! I retract that statement. What I meant was: My name is Erik Palme and I am an asshole. A giant asshole.
You see, I am a pervert—a huge one. I go through girls like I go through Kleenex when I don't have a girl. It's not that I mean to use them. I just love the female population so much I want to bring as much pleasure to each and every (willing) one I come across, pun absolutely intended. But the thing is, lately I'm afraid I have been using them. I still go out with two, maybe three girls each weekend, and I always try my hardest to get them off, too, but I'm afraid I'm not totally there with them these days. In fact—dare I admit it?—I've started imagining these girls are someone else entirely, and I hate myself for it. The cherry on top is that I'm imagining that these girls are my best friend Alexis.
Alexis and I are best friends because we have a lot in common, the main thing being that we both have dicks. 'Oh, quelle horreur!' you're probably thinking, right? Well, drop the sarcasm and try to imagine yourself in my shoes for a minute.
I don't think I'm gay, at least not entirely, because I still find myself tempted by the opposite sex more often than not. But to be honest, if I had to choose between a pretty girl and Alexis, I would pick Alexis every single time. Granted, Alexis is a rather feminine looking guy, with his delicate pink mouth, and his lovely long eyelashes, and the gracefully slender silhouette of his body... mmmm. But despite all of that, he's still got a dick no matter what the douchebags in gym class may insinuate, and I bet it's just perfect.
But anyway, none of that really matters because pinpointing my sexual orientation is the least of my problems. For one thing, I've got to do something about those poor girls. Yes, there's always my right hand, but that's my weekday lover and on the weekends I need a change of pace, you know what I mean? There's no guilt if I think about Alexis when I'm alone, but it's just so much more conducive to my fantasies to have an actual soft, warm body underneath me. And there's just no way in hell I'm asking Alexis if he wants to have sex with me. It's not like I'm afraid of getting his fist lodged in my eye socket or anything. Alexis happens to be the most non-violent person I've ever known, and even if he were prone to that sort of behavior, I've seen his little sister shove him onto his ass with a mere flick of her wrist before, so I still wouldn't have much to worry about.
I'm just afraid of losing him.
What if I tell him how I feel and he's disgusted by it? What if he isn't, but it doesn't work out? Then I'd lose the best friend I'll ever have. But on the other hand, what if we're destined to be together and I never find out because I'm too chickenshit to make the first move? What a paradox, huh? I wish I had someone I could talk to about it, someone wiser and more experienced who could give me advice. But Alexis was always the one I'd always turn to in times like these, so you can see how that presents a problem.
And I'm not sure if I'm ever going to work out what to do on my own. I know Alexis like the palm of my right hand, except when it comes to his love life—other than the fact that it's non-existent. Alexis is the anti-me when it comes to dating. It's a wonder we get along at all. He's never gone out with anyone, he's never expressed interest in anyone...I don't even know which team he's batting for, assuming he's interested in playing the game at all. But his parents put a lot of pressure on him to be a model student and generally better than everybody else, so I think the reason he isn't into dating right now is because his mother would smack him back into submission with a broom if he dared to look up from his homework for more than five minutes. This is another reason I hesitate to make a move: if I dare CORRUPT their innocent little boy, I, too, will get the broom. Probably not the sweeping end, either.
But at least I could imagine it was Alexis, hehe.
I'm sorry, that was inappropriate. But back to the point, I guess the only way to clear my conscience is to stop going out with girls. My friends and family will probably assume I've gotten some awful STD, because sadly that used to be the only thing that would have put me out of commission before (NOT THAT IT'S EVER HAPPENED BEFORE, MIND YOU. I'm speaking purely hypothetically.) I just hope my right hand doesn't end up seriously deformed before this crush or whatever it is blows over.
Now if you'll excuse me, all of this talk about Alexis has made me need some time alone.