I put in my miles, went to work, showed up, and fulfilled my commitments, but I was not flourishing, I was not thriving. I joined a running group, but...mostly just for the accountability. I met the group on Saturday, but then took off on my own. I ran by myself and kept my problems to myself. I allowed the ‘victim’ label to permeate and infiltrate my very being. Where I once had been confident and brave, I now looked over my shoulder. But it wasn’t just the fear of being victimized again. I. By now I had started to feel a very odd combination of horny, mean, fucked up. I also just plain felt bad for Phil. He seemed like he was into this somehow, but mainly because Angel was into it, and it pleased her so he'd do his part.Don't ask me where that feeling or sense came from. I'd never really played with a woman like Angel before. The wives or girlfriends would at least pretend the guy was somewhat in charge, or an equal partner.As my grinding stroke got faster, Angel started moving in. As the ground troops got close, the Wasps could be seen hurriedly erecting some sort of grid network around the base of the pyramid. This looked like bedsprings on posts, similar to early human radar antennas.When the human ground troops got within three miles of the pyramid, they were attacked by a swarm of wasps. The human guns would not shoot! Over 1,000 human soldiers were lost before a few were able to escape out of range of whatever was keeping the guns from working. At five miles from. ”“It turns out he’s a good guy, I just didn’t know him. Something I’ve learned the hard way is I have to pick my friends carefully,” I said, looking Alan in the eyes.I could tell he was going to be a problem and I wasn’t going to let his passive-aggressive behavior continue.“Alan, if you have a problem with me, we’ll talk afterward. This doesn’t have anything to do with you, it’s a team matter.”“You don’t consider me part of the team?” he asked incredulously.“Like I said, you and I can talk.