Petulant

I'm feeling grumpy today. Marie was here for a few days midweek, and everything was rosy. Then suddenly -- after her third visit, mind -- she asks me what STIs I've been tested for. Well I've donated blood, which means I've been checked for HIV. But nothing else that I remember. On the other hand ... shit, I haven't had that much sex over the years lately, and I've never, ever had any symptoms. So how worried do I have to be?

She replied with an email that ran in part: 

I'm calling my doctor tomorrow and telling her that the new lover who I thought was low-risk for STIs is instead extremely high risk; that two of his four partners, including his wife of 30-odd years, were promiscuous, never used protection, and he never used protection with them.  Nor did he or his wife EVER get tested for ANYTHING.  

Is that an accurate assessment of the situation, Hosea?

Well no, it bloody well ISN'T accurate. I replied explaining why not, and telling her I'm willing to ask my doctor for a round of tests the next time I see him (next month). That calmed her a bit, but not completely.

On the other hand it also pissed me off. I have these visions of sending her the results of the damned report along with all the books she brought me on this trip, and then canceling our next visit(s). I mean -- shit! It's not like we've even actually fucked in any serious way, because I can't stay hard long enough. A couple thrusts and I go soft again. I never come when we're together. All our love-making depends on my fingers and my tongue. So who exactly is being exposed to bodily fluids here? And you don't see me losing my shit over needing medical reports!

After Debbie broke up with me for not moving faster to separate from Wife (and of course she would have preferred divorce), I decided that when the separation was complete I wouldn't tell her. I didn't want her to think that now we could be all fine again: I figured that if I wasn't good enough before the separation, I'm not willing to be good enough after. And I'm starting to think the same way about Marie and this damned testing.

Why? Why am I willing to be so sulky and petulant? I don't know for sure. Maybe it's because I'm embarrassed at being called out, because I feel ashamed for having somehow appeared wrong. And shame is a very nasty feeling, so it's the easiest thing in the world to replace it with anger. I'm pretty sure that with food and sleep I'll get over it. But I've spent the day grumpy and irritable, and I don't like it.

Good thing I live alone, huh?

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