Synopsis: Alex has a problem that's controlling his life. 

Spontaneous erections.

I never really thought about it too much. As a teen, being horny and never short of a partner never put the issue into perspective. During class, sports or parties, if the sexual temptation hit there was always someone willing to offer themselves to me. Male or female, it never concerned me who or where. High school, college, it was a breeze, and I was living a life most were envious off.

Until I found myself in the adult world, with a job that demanded my time be dedicated to business ethics. It was then I began to realize spontaneous erections were not all pleasing to have.

It could happen in the middle of a meeting, while walking to the photocopier or standing in the corridor talking to my work colleagues. It became a point of mine to hide it if possible or take care of myself when and where I could to get through the day.

My girlfriend at the time, April, willingly put up with my demands for sex morning and night in the hope to stop my arousal during the day but in the end, even she could no longer deal with my problem.

After she moved out I sort medical help, but the doctor refused to prescribe me anything, telling me the medication would cause more damaging side effects. In my mind, my condition worsened and my fear of embarrassing myself and the people around me made me depressed and withdrawn.

After weeks of begging April to return, in which she refused, and my suffering at work; I experienced the first of many breakdowns. At twenty-four, I quit my job and became a hermit in my own home, refusing to leave, falling into severe depression. My parents at this point got involved with my life and insisted I return home while they helped me seek professional help. Never again in my life would I be as mortified and humiliated as I was when I had to tell my parents.

Yet my parents turned my life around. My mother, Jane, had arranged for me to see a specialist and through him that I received medication to treat my condition. He recommended I use the medication only when required, only once a day, and to limit my exposure to highly populated areas.

Little by little, I slowly got my life back, but I never returned to the work I once did. My father, John, a carpenter, took me under his wing and taught me a trade. One I didn’t need to be around people to do.

Over the next three years, my life was non-existent. I lost contact with friends, lived in a room at my parents place and worked on constructing my own style of furniture. I dedicated all my waking hours to my craft. I poured all my emotions into each piece of furniture I made. Drawers, chairs, and blanket boxes – I studied the use of different woods and ways to create unique pieces of work.

In those years, my erection issue remained a problem, and I dealt with it on my own. I only used the medication when I had to go out and only when the problem occurred. It made a difference and slowly I rebuilt my life.

Yet, my life would never be as it used to be. The days of having sex to deal with the issue no longer existed. Fear of being ridiculed because of my condition left me emotionally scarred. My parents made every effort to be supportive but over time I began to lie to them, telling them I was better, that the problem was as they had said, something I would grow out of.

With enough money saved, I purchased a two-bedroom home with a large garage I converted into a workshop. The move from my parent’s home was a huge step, yet it did not free me from my prison. If anything, it only condemned me more. Never venturing far and always working, my life was at crisis point and six years later, I came to realize I didn’t want to be alone or isolated any more. I desired more.

Sophie Fawn became one of my regular local customers not long after I began selling my items online. In her late forties, her short round motherly figure made meeting her no issue but I continued to be careful. She owned a boutique dealing in small home crafts and supplies. Taken by my skills she approached me to supply her with various pieces of my smaller works. Jewellery boxes, serving trays and decorative wooden bowls; these smaller items I created I loved to work on. I enjoyed sitting with my crafting tools designing unique patterns into the wood. It became my way of expressing myself and these items became my most popular.

Without knowing my reasons for being a recluse, Sophie accepted me and never questioned the details. I had time for her too. The more time I spent with her the more I learned to control my body. After a year of knowing her, I welcomed her visits and sometimes invited her over when I manufactured new items, allowing her the first option of purchase. Content with how my life was progressing, there were still times I suffered anxiety and isolated myself for days but those times for far and few apart. My confidence continued to waned when in public and that side of my life I ignored.

As recognition of my work grew, more businesses and collectors sort out my many smaller items. This gave me a pride in everything I made. I loved the work I did and if I could be grateful for anything, my condition led me to do something I never imagined I would do.

After my thirtieth birthday, I made a promise to myself that I would make more of an effort to get out during the day. Until them, everything I purchased was online. The stock I ordered for my work, clothes, and food. I truly had mastered the art of never leaving home unless necessary. Which was why I finally decided to reclaim my life?

The first weekend after my birthday, I donned on a pair of jeans, a baggy shirt and a blue large jacket, hanging almost down to my knees, which had become my trademark whenever I had to leave the house. As I walked out the door and into the sunlight, my body screamed at me not to go out there, but I grew tired of being scared. Never an issue when I was younger; the condition had not changed from then until now, only my fears had.

The rhythmic chant inside my head telling myself to be confident and strong allowed me to approach the car. In the driver’s seat fear engulfed me once more, yet I continued to fight. I didn’t want to be alone, and I didn’t want to be living in fear. My pills in my coat pocket if I needed them were close at hand. I had promised Sophie I would one day visit her boutique, and I had decided that day had come.

But parked outside Sophie’s boutique, I couldn’t bring myself to leave the car. The size of the place surprised me. Somehow, I always expected a small, quaint little shop, not something so large. I continued to hesitate, questioning my foolishness and convincing myself to return home. But I didn’t. For an hour I sat in my car, hands clenched on my lap, until I found the courage to go in.

Several people inside the boutique paid me no attention as I made my way around the perimeter of the building. Anxiety dwelled on the surface and I made every attempt to ignore it by focusing my attention on the products sold. Quick glances around, showed no sign of Sophie and I knew I would need to ask. But it took me several more minutes before I approached the assistant behind the counter. A young woman, the type I specifically avoided, eyed me suspiciously as I finally found the courage to approach. Hand clasped tightly around the pill bottle in my coat pocket, I asked to see Sophie. Her eyes never left me as she moved to one side to pick up the telephone and called Sophie. I waited; conscious of the tension behind the counter and hoped Sophie might be there soon.

From the back of the store, Sophie appeared.

“Alex, I can’t believe it, you’re here.” Sophie came forward and embraced me before I could stop her. Not returning the hug, I held my breath until she pulled away. As not to offend her, I gave my best attempt at a smile. The longest I’d ever gone without an erection was ten days but any type of physical contact quickly ruin that. Instances like these often created a spiralling effect with my emotions, which was why I made every attempt to be careful. Yet the result of Sophie’s embrace I managed to control, and this allowed me the confidence to remain.

“You finally did it?” Sophie knew I didn’t like to leave the house and still she never asked why.

“I finally did it, but one wrong move and I might not do it again.” I joked with her although not far from the truth.

“Come on, let me show you the display. I think you will love it.”

Sophie guided me to the front of her shop and in the front corner my pieces of work beautifully displayed for all to see through the large glass window.

“Wow, I like the way you have displayed them Sophie, the use of the green silk beneath the wood is great.”

“Thank you Alex, I like it too. I don’t suppose you brought anything with you today.”

“No sorry, it took me all my courage to get into the car.” I smiled down at her, knowing she would understand.

“Never mind. I’m planning a visit next weekend to see what you have.”

“Only a few pieces. Catherine from Gifts and Cards called during the week and requested several of the pieces I posted online. But if you let me know what you’re after I can put them aside for you once I have made them.”

“Thank you Alex, you do look after me. I’ll email you my order during the week.”

I smiled again and then felt conscious of the fact I didn’t have any more I wanted to say. Never a problem for the old me, I hated who I had become.

“Well I’ll keep moving then.” I told her.

“Would you like to get a coffee down at the cafe before you go?”

The shake of my head is instant, and before she has finished speaking, I reply, “No, thank you. Not today.”

Sophie pats my arm, “Another time then.”

I nod my thanks and leave. Back in my car my demons have not subsided from Sophie's embrace and I struggled to focus on anything. My plan to visit Gifts and Cards is yet another ordeal and one I force myself to face. The drive there is not as long as I hoped and once outside of Gifts and Cards, I don’t get out of my car. The shop is tiny, people are gathered near the cafe next door and I break out in a cold sweat as my fear grows. In the front window, my items are on display and this is enough to convince me I don’t need to go in. The decision to return home is immediate.

Back home, it takes all my strength not to fall in a heap in bed and not resurface for several days. The reoccurring thoughts of the day and every other time I’ve struggled to deal with my condition threaten to tear me apart. I hate that I’m like this. Instead, I return to my workshop and put all my frustration and anxiety into making art.

Later that evening, my mother called. If not for her name on the screen of my phone, I would have ignored it. But as my parents are convinced I’m perfectly fine, I can’t ignore her call. The effort to sound normal would come at a price after the phone call.

“Hi, honey how are you?” Jane asked.

“I’m good thank you. Got back from seeing Sophie. Have you been to her boutique yet?” I asked.

“I haven’t but I’ve been meaning to.”

“You should, you would definitely love it, and not because I’m selling my work there.”

Jane laughed, “Then I will make the effort to visit. I rang to tell you I had a call from Lucas, who you went to high school with. You remember him?”

“Yeah, I remember him. Haven’t seen him since he moved away for university after high school. What was he ringing for?”

“They’re planning another high school reunion and he wanted to get in touch with you. You didn’t attend the last one.”

The painful memories of the last reunion and the effort I went through not to go threatened to crush me. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see my old friends but how could I explain to them my problem. How could they ever understand? I believed then, as I did now, it was better to stay away than be reminded of the man I once was.

“Did he leave his phone number?”

“Yes I have it here. I also gave him your number, so he may ring you if he doesn’t hear from you first.”

My chest constricted as I began breathing through my mouth, trying to fight the suffocating emotions clenching at my heart.

“Ok. Well. Thank you for that. I have to go.”

“Ok. Speak with you soon.”

I don’t remember what I did with the phone as the blood in my body burns and furiously pumps through my body. My erection is painful and pushing against my pants. I want it to go away. I don’t want to deal with the problem my body has no control over. With great effort I find the pills and take two, rather than the one required. I want the sensations to vanish quickly. As I stumble to bed, I want to die.