A STORMY, DARK NIGHT

A STORMY, DARK NIGHT It was a dark and stormy night. The last of the daily thundershower rumbled its way across the sky, and headed off towards Indianapolis. The storm did manage to clear the air, and drop the temperature down to the point where I could easily breathe. The storms are a fact of life in Terre Haute in the summer. If you are going to live there, you have to get used to them; I did. Actually, I was glad the storm had passed. I had tickets to the ISU summer stock performance of “A Girls Guide to Chaos” and I didn’t want to miss it. I had seen it before, but I knew several of the cast and crew, and I wanted to see how they had handled the show. It was about 7:30. Just time to walk from my apartment in the student ghetto on the west side of campus, and cross campus to the theatre. The thought of seeing it once more made me feel less anxious. It was nice to watch other, fictional, problems, rather than wallow deep in my own, and those of my friends. You might call it a character flaw, but I tend to worry about my friend’s problems, as well as my own. Call it amateur therapy. The odd thing was that I really enjoyed it. The feeling of being needed, of helping them pull it all together after a shitty experience, was a real high. It was almost a replacement for romance and dating. Since Heather dumped me just before midterms in my second year of college, I hadn't had a real date in four years. I suppose that I should introduce myself. I’m Paul Wheelwright. I am pursuing a master's degree in history as a professional student at Indiana State University. My door was opened by a knock. I opened it and Beth Seeborg was standing there, with the red eyes and nose that told me she had stopped crying only long enough to walk the three blocks that separated our apartments. Beth is a wonderful individual who has small, round faces, large green eyes, and long brunette hair. Since we lived next to each other in one of Terre Haute's most roach-infested apartment complexes, I had known her for nearly two years. Additionally, we were in the same philosophy class. We became close friends as a result of a class project, and her intelligence and wit drew me towards her. I thought I was in love with her, and might have actually asked her out on a real date, but the timing was never right. In addition, she was with another person. Despite the fact that I detested his company and spent very little time with him, I knew this other person well. His name was Franklin R. Krieger, and he was, in my considered opinion, an insufferable prick. He was a Theta Chi, and he had some sort of need to be in visible control of every situation that he placed himself in. For some reason Beth had been dating him for as long as I had known her. And every two or three months, Beth would show up near me, in tears or close to it, claiming that she hated Franklin, and that she would never see him again. Since he never valued her intelligence and always made cruel jokes about her body, I would set out to tell her that she was better off without him. She was perfectly developed and toned (5’3″, 107 pounds), and while she was not overendowed with huge breasts, she had a lovely figure. Still Franklin made her feel as though she was fat and ugly. I would dry her tears, make her laugh, and tell her that there were other men who would love her for who she was, and not treat her like an ornament. Because I was thinking of myself, every time I told her this, I cringed inside. But what kind of friend comforts a friend who has lost a love by trying to seduce her? Beth would return to Franklin within a week, convinced that he had changed and that he was her best bet for love and security. This didn't help much. I, on the other hand, tried not to preach. Even without the romance, I enjoyed being around Beth, especially as a verbal foil in debate. I valued her friendship. I also refrained from fantasizing about her. I was afraid that if I thought of her in a s****l way, it might show up in real life, ruining our friendship. reality, spoiling our friendship. “Franklin dumped me, and this time he won’t ever be back.”, Beth sobbed. “He told me that he is taking a job in Seattle when he graduates next week, and he wants to end the relationship so that he can date new people. I would have let him see other people, but I was willing to go to Washington for him. I loved him, then he told me that I was just temporary for him. I was such a fool. Why did I ever love him?” She burst into tears, and buried her head on my shoulder. “Calm down, Beth,” I said in my warmest tones “You knew that this might happen. Did you really plan on spending the rest of your life with him?” I took her arm and guided her to my sofa. She followed weakly and sat next to me, still sobbing every few seconds and dabbing at her face with a Kleenex. “Yes, and no. I knew that he could be cruel, but he made me feel so special when he tried to. The weekend he took me to Chicago, and planned everything to be so special, it was so special and romantic. All I wanted was to have him make me feel needed. He did the sweetest things for me when we made up after a fight. He made me feel so wonderful.” “But what about the reasons he had to make up with you?” I countered. Although it may appear cruel, Beth frequently had a tendency, in accordance with his wishes, to make the reason she was mad at Franklin outweigh the apology she received from him. This manipulation was one of the reasons I detested Franklin. After he was observed groping a Delta Gamma pledge in the swimming pool, he made up by going to Chicago. He lied his way out of it, and bought off Beth’s anger and what little guilt that he was capable of feeling. "Did you want to continue being his toy when he wants to?" “I know he used me, damn it, but who else would care about me. When I talk to men, they are afraid; they want a brunette brain, not a blonde bombshell. I scare them or they look right over me. At least most of the time Franklin wanted me. Beth snapped back. She tried hard to fight back against her lost love, but it was futile. “Who else but this man would take me? They all either ignore me, or pretend not to notice me.” She then ripped her t-shirt off. I tried to ignore the t**s, but there was nothing underneath and I was less than two feet from them. They were small, but firm, with small pink n*****s that were already beginning to become erect. I hesitated for just a second, then reached up on the sofa to grab the blanket that I kept draped over the back. "Beth, for what purpose did you do that?" Before I had the courage to do what I really wanted to do, which was to wrap my tongue around her n*****s and caress her breasts, I asked in my most austere voice as I attempted to wrap the thin blanket around her and conceal her nakedness. Beth pulled away from me as I tried to cover her, however, and stood up. When she spoke, her voice trembled, but seemed to be certain. “See what I mean, Paul? I know that you wanted me once, and I bet you still do, but you won’t touch me, even when I offer myself to you. I know the look in your eyes when we sit up late, arguing about everything. Despite your refusal to admit it, you want me. "Why not?" I was taken aback by this when she said it. I stated, "I thought I was in love with you once, but you had Franklin, and every time you left him, I cared too much for you to attempt to propose to you." That would be so tacky, to try to make you love me, as I try to help you get over an unhappy love affair.”