From all the information I had at my disposal I'd come to the initial conclusion (or perhaps it was nothing more than a personal belief or desire of mine) this evening that the reason she was not happy in any of her previous relationships was not because the men were not worth her time or that they were bad, they were quite simply wrong for her. They were "too good".Apparently, what she really needed was somebody to take control, to give her direction, to bring order into her life for her. We just had not realized it at the time, at least not consciously. Now, here she was, in my place, serving me tea as if she were my servant. She knew I had an interesting background. She's been with me when I've essentially seduced women in bars, waitresses in various restaurants, and seen how they responded to the wicked things I'd say to them. I am, and always have been, a nice guy, but I wasn't a goody two shoes. Did that have anything to do with how she was acting tonight? I wasn't sure, but I. "This emotional outpouring is enough to have me rushing to her side, my arms embracing her, she slips her arms about me, her face pressed into my chest. She pulls away after some minutes and wipes her tears from her flushed cheeks, "Could we talk about what happened honey? I need to talk to someone and I know it's unfair..." Sure mom." Mother always wanted to talk about 'it'- whatever that topic was.She smiles thankfully at me. We leave our half-eaten meals and go to the living room to sit beside each other on the couch, she sitting sideways with one leg bent, facing me.She begins, "I was a good daughter", she was number three, "and I believed my parents. I married the first man I had sex with." I gulped at this point but thankfully she missed it. "I tried to be a good wife, but your father never seemed to be happy."I knew this part a little too well, it was part of my hypothesis why I was drawn to my mother, to protect her from the verbal abuse of my father, her husband."I ... I.
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