The Sensualist: A Voiceless Young Man's Struggle for Love

Prologue

 The rebellious teen looked puzzled at the six foot man standing in front of him. The boy knew what he wanted to do, but he was not sure how he would execute the act. History should not repeat itself, but the police would be on the man's side again. This was nothing criminal or immoral. He wanted to put the man in his place for several reasons over a series of past events. It was no male bashing party, but a party with limited guests. A private party without the music, stripper pole, and a hard-working middle class mother pretending to be a volunteer firefighter under a downpour of singles. The man found an opportunity to pick a fight with the teen after he discovered his wallet was missing a few Jackson's. There were no drugs, no paraphernalia or erotic subscriptions. The boy was desperately stealing date money. He was no jock, pickup artist, or frequent player in the modern dating world. The teen was unemployed for several months after a highly reputable business closed their doors to American consumers. The European investors would not hire him back. The boy was not a thirty year old polyglot with a college degree willing to accommodate an international clientele. He was an average hormonal teen looking for a network of friends with cuddle benefits. The past experiences with different relationships have helped him make a connection between hostility over intervention. The man demanded more than financial gain. He wanted the teen out of the house so he can carry out his misogynistic behavior upon the teen's mother. The mother was naive about the way the man treated her. She believed it was tough love. This man had no tolerance for love. The man who craves knowledge without power will be more successful than the man who craves power without knowledge. 

The belligerent man's voice escalated out of rage. "Get over here right now! Don't make me count!" The man's index finger remained pointing at the hardwood floor as if he was addressing a dog to follow a command. The man's direct eye contact was intimidating to the teen, but his actions failed to carry out his seriousness. Imagine Hitler in a football mascot costume trying to gain control of the entire stadium. All he can do is stand straight like a store mannequin in the center of the football field with his right arm raised to the sky. Imagine the inattentive crowd around him witnessing the priceless expressions on his face from disloyalty. This mannequin had no fashionable sense with a hashtag directing back to him, "#ManHeCant." The man showed a natural appearance of a wild black bear looking for food at a campsite. Unfortunately, Smokey's cousin did not find a single crumb of obedience. He was shot with a challenge. The teen instantaneously shot a tranquilizer dart straight to the man's ears.

"Count! Fucking count, you dick! Stop treating me like a child! The only time you ever count is when you sleep behind my mother's back! She doesn't deserve you! No woman on this planet deserves a sack of shit between their arms. You're a fucking disgrace to men!"

The silence grew with intense emotions escalating inside each other. The man's face became a distinct fire truck red as he perspired from his forehead. The rage traveled to his eyes as they grew wider while his nostrils filled with air. He was a bull preparing his release into the ring against an amateur matador. The tension passed through his fingertips as they curled into the palm of his hand.

"Excuse me?" He cleared his throat and paused for a minute. "What did you say to me?"

The teen shook his head in disbelief. "Don't act like you didn't hear me, asshole. You might have selective hearing but you heard everything. You only listen when it's all about you. Would you like me to repeat it for you? You're a disgrace if you call yourself a man. Do us all a favor, okay? Leave my family alone!"

The man was speechless as his fists were clenched together against the sides of his legs. His knuckles became discolored. The look in his eyes labeled him as an apathetic asshole, but his intent was confirmed. He wanted to strangle the teen with his bare hands before the mother arrived home from work. The man impatiently encouraged the teen to seek independence outside the home. The transitional period for a baby bird to fly out of its nest is compromised when the nest collapses beneath the confidence to fly. As a traditional man of disciplinary action, it was his definition of becoming a father. He believed disciplinary action was a form of support. A man can discipline his son to refine behavior and morale without supporting the decisions his son makes when he reaches desired characteristics. It was not a matter of not supporting his step-son, but supporting himself to support others in their self-discovery.