Chapter 9
Living with Lars wasn’t as horrible as I thought it would be. Well, not at the beginning of our… relationship, friendship, non-aggression pact? I never knew how to name what we had. I still don’t understand why he needed me or why he liked me. Why he was so obsessed with me, obsessed to the point of not letting me breath without him being there to count how much oxygen I took. I don’t know what he was jealous of because normal people don’t have his visual impairment problems. Nobody, and I mean nobody ever, ever cast a second glance at me after they saw Lars with me.
Alas, new things always shine and it wasn’t any different for us. We got along in every aspect, including the bedroom. It was ok to share the bed with him. We both received pleasure from the other and that was enough to keep us content and satisfied. He didn’t want to go “all the way” and that was more than fine by me.
The other things we did? Well, they weren’t really gay. It’s not that we were kissing or drooling over each other. I still liked females though Lars didn’t want them around (me) and I wasn’t going to start being coquettish with Nils or Sven. Later I found out that he was married with two children, two dogs, two cats and one mother in law. Nils Holgersson was a prick -single- who loved money above anything else. I think he had a girlfriend or two but I never knew for certain. I remember he mentioned a son once but he never brought it up again, so I’m not sure if it was true.
I mean, Lars’ beloved arowana fish, Oscar had more action with the opposite sex than me. Oscar would visit a female arowana now and then when some other breeder wanted champion-babies out of him. In exchange, Lars would get another several thousand dollar fish for his aquariums. I never understood that fish mania of his and his breeder friends. We went once to Osaka to pick up some Koi fishes that cost… an insane price. That golden-pearly Magikarp got its own tank in London with two girls but no deco-plants inside because Lars was concerned that they would scratch one of its scales. That koi had more medals than a general coming back from Afghanistan. That guy-fish had his own vet who came once a month to check him up. I swear that Oscar knew his name and would come when called.
