Agreement with the Enemy - First Resistance (6.)

In the summer we used to come to our cottage. Mom always said it was like Dad's Karlstejn. Not because the building was so big, but because he spent a long time building it. It's like the building of the century. Even after 20 years, he kept it standing. That means that only the bottom was habitable. Stone vaults combined with wood, a huge fireplace... He literally caressed every stone. One by one, he picked them out and set them for hours. It was very nice. Unfortunately, he didn't get to fulfill that dream.

The construction took place in a beautiful location in a picturesque village surrounded by the Brda forests. A small village with wonderful amenities. There was a pub, tennis courts, a football field, open-air concerts, barbecues, smoking, and other events. On the way from the pub, you passed by the bakery, where you could knock on the window at night and buy hot cakes, buns, and even a loaf of delicious bread. In short, a little paradise on earth.

I won't hide the fact that he used to come to the bed in a somewhat used state, to say the least. I was quite bothered by his drinking. When he drank, he was a completely different person. It was as if his shoulders had suddenly grown liquid. Everything had to be his way.

I'm a ram. And sometimes I'd get stuck and get a little rebellious. Like when he asked me to turn on the light in the middle of the night so his gracious majesty could take a leak. That was quite a daring trick at the time. He tried for a while to get me to get up, but eventually, he staggered to the door, pulled down my pants, and performed the need right on the pavement. The experience of the smell was really something. Without a word, I packed up my blankets and went to sleep in the original provisional cabin. I left the whole stinky treasure for him.

It took him a while to come. He was just lucky he cleaned it up after himself. At least as much as his underdeveloped state would allow.

That was the first time I dared to say I didn't want to be with him anymore. He grabbed me and tried to convince me how stupid I was and how much he loved me. He convinced me so vehemently that his hands suddenly encircled my neck and pressed.

Within moments he let go of me, but it wasn't pleasant. I couldn't swallow for several weeks. For a while, he was like a Milius. He tried to chop up the goodness. He almost carried me in his arms. Promising and promising. And I finally went soft.

4. I'm sorry. Maybe you were just trying to wake me up. To whip me into some kind of reaction. So I'd snap out of it and kick you the fuck out of my life. So you wouldn't have to hurt me. I guess it just wasn't "hard" enough for me yet. I guess I needed to make that school of life more action-packed. Maybe I was a masochist of sorts. Anyway, I apologize for being so delusional. I'm sure it wasn't pleasant for you either.