This Man I Live Next To...

I had always dreamed of moving into a friendly neighborhood where I and my family would be well-liked, respected, and have special things done for us, such as keeping a lookout for our house if we're gone a long time, or if we run out of eggs, we can borrow a few, etc. I also would like to walk outside and be greeted. But for about nine years, we have planted ourselves into a perfect trap surrounded by creepy and unbearable people to live next to.

I want to start off with a neighbor whose mother is one of the nicest women to ever meet, but a son who is well into his late 30s still living with her with no real ambitions to be something in life. I will name him Stephen. Stephen is not that tall, but he's a tough-looking guy with tattoos. One of the things I really hate about him is the fact that once he or either his buddies come over, they leave their car radios jamming at such loud levels. They can be so loud that I can feel the vibrations within my own home. I don't understand people who are so driven by music that they would decide for all the rest of the neighbors that you will hear this whether you like it or not. The idea of having a home is to be comfortable, have peace, your own space and privacy. If his dude really cared for that kind of crappy music in the first place, why not do so INSIDE his own stay? This bugged me so bad becuase I knew he had no consideration for other people around who may be trying to relax or sleep for various reasons. Maybe someone could be sick, maybe someone needs to work in a few hours, maybe someone is studying.

He has been in trouble with the law before. In fact, the police came over once because we heard arguing between him and a girl or his girlfriend. Apparently he either hit her or threatened her. Stephen was even shot by the wrong woman he messed with. It's really too bad becuase he has a beautiful little girl and I would hate for her to be around that. Kids are innocent beings who do not ask or deserve to be around such a troubling household.

There were times where I would jog around the neighborhood and every time I passed his house, he'd always say something to me and interrupt me. He kept commenting on how sexy I was and offered to be his girlfriend for even just a day. He was crazy about sex as he told me the best way to lose weight was engaging in sex. In fact, the house we moved into was his mother's house and I moved into his bedroom and found an unopened condom along with a letter in his closet.

There were times where I hated being near him becuase he commented my looks and body in the most trashy way. But don't get me wrong, I love being complimented. What woman doesn't? But there are more respectful ways of telling a woman how she looks and he made me feel like all I was all breast, thighs and butt. He was so discomforting to be around that I minimized my jogging distance to where I did not go near his house. But there was one time we did talk for a good 16 minutes or so. He believes in God, loves his girl very much, hates the women he's been around. I asked him about his dogs he used to have. They were pit-bulls and I could see them slightly from my bedroom window into his mother's yard. His mother is TERRIFIED of dogs, so they have to be outside ALL DAY and ALL NIGHT I assume. I tested him by asking him if he loved them and he said he did, but there was a part of me that felt he was lying. I caught him frequently with his buddies trying to get the dogs to fight each other. My sister saw blood from her window. He even left them out there during a rainstorm and I saw one of them shaking and crying to be inside for warmth. There was even a time where I was jogging and I heard him kick a stray dog that decided to come into the neighborhood probably to be loved.

Another thing that bothers me is that he does bring drugs into the neighborhood. What if the cops get shady or word that someone on this block does drugs and what if Stephen goes as far as to hide the contents somewhere on our property? It's bad enough I find trash in our yard along the fence that he and I share. It can be napkins and beer cans.

I have not heard much from Stephen in the last two years. But he is around. I just want the best for him. He's just passing on in life with no real agenda to pass on to his daughter. He's in and out of jail, taking up space in his mother's house. God forbid if she dies who knows what he's going to do.

I just wish I was around neighbors I could trust and be comfortable around. People have no idea how their demeanor, their actions and what they say can really determine how they make others feel.
FashionQueen86 FashionQueen86
26-30, F
May 12, 2012