Men tend to mark what they consider to be their “territory” in an interesting variety of ways. Maybe it’s a sock thrown in the corner. Or the toilet seat left up just before they leave. A shoe in a room where it shouldn’t be. Riding shotgun and leaving the seat pushed all the way back. I’ve seen it all. There used to be a time when I’d go right behind a man and clean up anything he may have left behind. I don’t always need to be reminded of their presence1. It only happens when I’m single and only by men who think they have some kind of claim to my attention.
Before Lucifer and I moved in together he left behind some doo-dad he welded, a sock and a shirt. That was what I found in my room. When he lived there he went from room to room to make sure to mark his presence. He couldn’t very well piss in a corner of the room – so he left an item of clothing clearly showing a man had been there. I honestly thought it was cute at the time. I wasn’t exclusive with him ever in our relationship, but I also respected his presence in my bed2. He didn’t even try to be slick about it. I could assume that it was his way of making sure he came back, but he was too alpha for that shit. I was his.
Items left willy-nilly are the best stories. Why is that sock in that room? Well, obviously someone was getting comfortable enough to begin to disrobe. Why hasn’t that bed been slept in? Probably because there’s another bed getting the attention. Maybe that spot on the couch isn’t really a spot, but an arranged scene. There are a myriad of ways to look at a room and guess the story of it. Sometimes the obvious isn’t so obvious. Sometimes the obvious is a lie. I walk into a room in which I’ve been a hundred times and can tell when 1 thing has been moved. I see when someone else has been in my space. I don’t miss a beat. Men who are normally oblivious are surprisingly adept at being able to tell when another man has been in his spot.
Now that I’m officially very single, there are a number of folks who believe they can lay claim to my time and space regardless of what I want. Even when they don’t actually come into the house, they make an attempt to leave their mark. I can see what’s happening. I can see all the available evidence. And I laugh. Because in the end none of them win. None of them really matter past this summer. I’m not even sure they matter for the summer.
In the end, it doesn’t really matter who comes through trying to mark their territory. It doesn’t matter where they leave their things or lay their heads. There are liars amongst these gentlemen and I’m no keeper of secrets. Not anymore. Be cautious with me now, because I have no loyalties to any of them. Friend or foe, I don’t care. It’s becoming a game for me. Who wants who to see they’ve been in my sphere? Who thinks I’m truly theirs? Who believes me to be the same person I was 6 months ago? I’ve lost interest in almost all of them, but do they know it? None of them are interesting enough to actually have the juice to mark me. These men who have no interest in me outside of their own egos and I know that. As such I don’t care about them.
Anyway, my future ex-boyfriend is still in Georgia. I’m saving the good stuff for him.
I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.