Exey

I dated the Captain in 2009. At the time I had pink hair and was still upset over being dumped a few months earlier by Adam, the prettiest guy I ever dated. I was living with Abby and her geriatric cat Ophie, who was in love with me. Her other geriatric cat Qipu had just passed away and she wanted to get a tattoo to remember him. Qipu's ashes were in a box on top of Abby's trophy for taint licking in her bedroom. We went to the best tattoo shop in Boston, just down the street from where we lived. I'd been there before but the Captain was a newish employee. About my height, mid-30s, jet black pompadour, covered in tattoos. Neck, hands, fingers, the works. While Abby was being worked on by another employee the Captain and I half-chatted and flirted. I don't really know how to flirt, by the way. Sometimes I try too hard or vice versa but this was nice and even. It was one of those magical times when you just know something's going to happen. My friend Coco also worked at the shop and warned me that he was okay but she was unsure of his attitude towards women. I also heard him talking to a friend while at the shop about some younger girl and wasn't being too polite...though his mocking of her fake Coach bag tipped me off that she was probably the kind of girl I'd openly mock as well. He was aggressive and alive. I liked it.
Later in the week we had a drink at the Brendan Behan pub and while I told myself to take this one slow I also knew it wasn't going to happen. Captain was his real name, he changed it from Robert or something a while ago. He was from Virginia or Kentucky but was obsessed with Halloween and while on a trip to Salem, Mass decided he wanted to live there. Something told me he had issues which made up and moving easy. I knew exactly how that was, after all. We left the bar and went to a hotel, partied like rock stars...and that's pretty much how the relationship went. It wasn't all sex. Like I said he was obsessed with Halloween and the devil and gore which drove me wild. His apartment in Salem was two floors of creepy shit with blood paintings and a cemetery in the backyard (not uncommon in Salem). We watched more horror movies than you can shake a stick at, had expensive dinners, licked each other's tattoos, explored Boston, loved Skynyrd.
Captain talked so fast you could hardly get a word in and when he asked things about me I had short answers but he didn't really listen. He just waited for his turn to talk. He was so crazy and exciting it was fun for a while. I couldn't really call him a real boyfriend but was okay with what it was. After a while the sex became too rough. He'd roll over and sleep with his back to me and when I tried to spoon him he farted. I became annoyed with staring at his tattooed butt while he slept. I became annoyed with his lewd jokes and nose picking and trying to go down on me if I had my period or had just taken a dump. Sometimes you just don't want it. We saw each other once a week or so.
I moved into a different house in the same neighborhood and my bedroom window opened onto a back porch on the second floor. Captain would knock on the window after midnight and crawl inside. It was June and so fucking hot, 100 or hotter for days and days with no air. His sweaty body in my bed became too much. Pretty soon his attitude towards women became all too clear. Not a woman hater but certainly a sadist. Too rough, too much pain. The Captain had a kid back south but clearly just needed to be selfish and was like a big kid. I couldn't handle it.

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