A Typical Day

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Jim faces the issues raised by Erica in "Torn".
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Chagrined
Chagrined
344 Followers

This was inspired by a story written in the letter section called "Torn" written by Lits own Patricia51. I have to say that that she is one of several really good writers here and it is always a great pleasure to read her stuff. But reading the story "Torn" touched me (and from the response many others as well) where very few stories here do, somewhere north of the beltline. Before you read this, read her letter "Torn". It deserves reading and maybe a comment and vote or two. So, having been in a somewhat similar predicament as our Jim in the story, I felt I had to write a reply, from one man's perspective. Most of you won't like it. Some of you will. But I offer it to you…submitted for your approval…

A typical day? Is there such a thing? Prior to reading the letter I certainly thought so. I remember going to work, arguing with Peter the Asshole about the delivery dates on an out-of-stock item and then taking lunch at the diner across the street from the shop. I even remember the heartburn hockey puck they tried to pass off as ground beef. But mostly I remember that antsy feeling in the pit of my stomach I always have when it's time to come home to you. Oh, its strength has ebbed and flowed during the years to be sure. We have had our ups and down, sweetheart, and never more so than this past year. But the feeling never really left, it was always with me just as you are. Just as the tappet noise in my truck is; the one that always lets you know I have come home. A typical, solid day as any other. But it ended torn.

And my dear, sweet wife, I can't mend it, I can't fix it, I can't make it like it was. Dear God in heaven I wish I could!

I knew that there was trouble. You don't hide things well. You never have and most especially from me. You met me at the door with a quick peck on the cheek just as you have done for almost a quarter of a century. Only the past year the peck has been a tad quicker each time. My dinner was ready just as you always, well, almost always have done since our joining as husband and wife. All the while you clutched at that folded up piece of paper in your hand as if drawing strength from it. Finally over coffee I had to ask.

"Erica, what in the hell is that in your hand? You've been holding on to it all damn night." I said reaching out to take it from you.

You jerked it out of my reach an tucked it into the hip pocket of your jeans. "No, no. It's nothing." You paused for a moment and looked at me. "Jim, we have to talk."

"Oh, shit, Hon, not that again. Every time you start a conversation with that I know its about something I don't want to hear!" Prophet, thy name is James. You stumbled a bit. You wanted to find the right words but they were never there. How could they be? Finally, your eyes looked into mine, and said, "I wasn't going to do this. You deserve so much more than this."

You reached back into your hip pocket and thrust the paper out to my hand like something you wanted desperately to be rid of; a bomb waiting to go off.

Gingerly, I took it from your waiting hand. It was damp from your sweating palms. I opened it slowly, cautiously as if whatever evil living on its pages could reach out and grab me as it had you. I read.

It wasn't long but it was honest. We have always had that. On its page I see a person in pain; a person torn. You watched my face looking for signs of my own pain, confusion, anger, understanding and, perhaps a bit of disgust. I am sure that you saw them all at some point. Finally, I set the letter down. I looked at you. Your eyes searched for some sign of reaction. I started to speak but nothing came. I cleared my throat and began again.

"It took a lot of courage to write this. Is this the way you feel?" I croaked. My heart was beating 300 beats per minutes. My head was swimming.

"Jim, I love you. I don't want to hurt you ever. But, you deserved to know what was going on with me." You searched my face again.

I stood up. I knew if I didn't I may never rise to my feet again. You waited as I walked over to the mantle where we kept our memories.

"This is a lot to take in." I said flatly.

"Jim, darling, I.." you began "Do you hate me, now knowing that your wife is gay? That I desire a woman's touch?" You sounded like a child asking a parent for forgiveness.

Still looking at the mantle, I replied. "Quit saying that! You aren't gay! Hate you? Of course not! I love you and always have; probably always will."

You leapt up and threw your arms around me. I didn't mean for it to happen, but as your arms came around me I stepped back, wheeling from your embrace. In that moment, we knew things could never be the same. You staggered back, agony lining your features.

"I revolt you, now?" your voice quivered.

My mind still reeled from the letter. Yes, there was revulsion there, fighting with anger, compassion, love, and fear for dominance of my soul.

Which one would win you couldn't guess and I didn't know. Still, I looked at the mantle. There in photos was our life together laid out. Our wedding photo, pictures of our children, bright and happy, your one "glamour shot", me in my uniform fresh home from my enlistment in the army. Our family photo that we used for Christmas cards two years past. A photo from the PTA. It was all there. Seventeen years. Seventeen years of lies? Seventeen years gone. I knew what you were feeling. The anger at God for doing this to us. The fear for the future, our future.

"Jim.." I heard you but I couldn't respond.

"Jim, what are you thinking? What are you feeling? Don't shut me out now, please." I could hear the sense of pleading in your voice. I turned and looked into your eyes, eyes I have seen scared, angry and filled with joy. I had to say something but I didn't know what to say.

"Jim, please!"

"Erica, what do you want me to say?" I asked.

"Tell me everything will work out. Tell me …tell me things will be all right."

I ran my hand through my thinning hair and signed.

"Honey, I wish I could." I held up my hand cutting you off before you could speak. "Will you just listen?"

You sat there looking at me, hands folded in your lap. Suddenly I saw the girl I fell in love with twenty-one years ago. The girl who stole my heart in "Pop" Withams algebra class. For her, I had to be strong, for her and for our children.

"Baby," I began, "I don't know what to say. I am filled with all sorts of things right now. But, I want you to know this, love is the first. Love and a great deal of admiration. But there is pain and anger too. Not a certain lack of betrayal. Oh, I know you have always been true to your vows. You would never cheat on me. You would never jeopardize what we have built together. I don't mean going out and screwing someone else. That isn't you or me either for that matter. "

I sat down before I fell down.

"Erica, I wish it was a simple case of another man. Another man I could compete with. I would have some idea of what to do. But this isn't that, is it? This is a complete change in what and who you are. What you need and what you can give me, to our marriage. This hits at our core. To be fair, it hits me right where I live. This goes to the core of what I am as a man "

"For the last year, I knew there was something different when we made love. Can we still call it that, I wonder? Making love?"

"Jim.." you croaked your eyes filled with tears.

"I knew it when you always wanted it doggie style even though I always liked it with either you or me on top. You know why?"

"No" you mewed.

"Because I could always see you that way, always touch you. Doggie only lets me grab your hips; only a small portion of us can touch. I like to feel your skin against mine. Your legs wrapped around me and the smoothness of your skin against mine. Did you know that humans are one of the only of God's creatures that can reproduce facing each other? It's true. We are one of maybe a handful that can see the partner we create life with. I love your face. I love looking at you. It hurt me to do it with your turned away from me. I think in some perverse way, I knew why you did it, too.

"You know me too well. I thought if I ignored this long enough it would go away. Deep down I knew it wouldn't. I love you, Erica, I need you. I need to touch you, feel you, be with you. For us, sex has always bee the best extension of our love. I can't live without that. But, I can't live with the knowledge that you don't want me, at least not that way anymore. I can't live in a sexless marriage. And sooner or later, I would go outside of our home to find that comfort you have given me. I would become the cheat. I would hate your and myself for making me do that."

"I can still do that, Jim. I can still please you. I love you. I could never turn you away."

"True, you wouldn't refuse me but you wouldn't seek me out either, or if you did, at some point you would resent it. I don't need a charity fuck, Erica," I said more cruelly than I intended.

I continued. " A part of me wants to say that if this is what you are and who you are now, go and find yourself a lover. A woman who can give you what I no longer can. I love you enough to want you to be happy, no matter what brings that happiness. But we both know that won't work either. Cheating is cheating even with permission. We were married in a church before the eyes of God. We swore before God to forsake all others. There was no sex clause to it. And even if I give my permission, does that mean He," I said pointing to the ceiling, "has given His? Besides, it wouldn't be fair to you, me or your lover. You would go crazy spreading yourself too thin. You could never give me what I need, never be completely with her, either. Neither of us would have you. And you wouldn't have yourself."

I sighed." And then there is the kids. We forgot about them. What do we tell them. ‘Oh, by the way, mommy has been living a lie. She really a lesbo!' Neither of us would want this. I feel at some point they would have to ask themselves; if Mom was lying about loving Dad all these years, maybe she was lying about us too?"

"I would never let that happen!", you replied furiously. "Erica, I am sure that if you could control events you would have never let what is happening to us now happen. Events happen, as they happen." I said softly.

You looked down. "Yes, you are right there. This isn't what I wanted, that is for sure."

I came to my feet again and spun to face you, frustrated and angry. "Explain this to me! How the hell can you just be a lesbian all of a sudden? Sexual orientation is determined at birth, damn it! Isn't that what they always tell us? Ten percent of the population is gay. Was my cock so inept that you decided to go the other way?"

"Jim, stop it! You know it wasn't like that! I didn't wake up one morning and say, ‘Today I'll become gay!'" you hissed angrily. "I can't explain this! You read my letter. Do you think this is easy for me?"

I couldn't help myself, the anger was welling up inside me. How could she do this me? To us? To the kids? What was I going to do without her? But deep down I knew this wasn't a matter of choice.

My head hung no longer supported it seemed. "No, baby. I know it isn't. It isn't easy for me, either. I don't believe easy comes into this at all.", I sighed.

Suddenly I felt drained. Exhaustion set in and I felt all the energy drain away to be replaced with a fatigue that reached down into my soul. I looked at you. You were feeling it too. You looked like a dish rag. For the first time in our life together I wanted to reach out to you but was afraid. I was afraid you would step away as I had, afraid that you would misread my intention, afraid you would no longer want my arms around you. I started to speak and my hand started to reach out to you. But, the love was still there. You jumped to your feet and threw yourself into my arms nearly knocking me into the mantle. My arms circled you wrapping themselves around your waist. I was awash in a sense of permanence, of acceptance. I was like a child again, a child safe in a loved ones embrace. This was what I had lived for. This was what life meant for me.

You held me tightly and sobbed in my ear, "Oh, Jim, darling, what are we going to do?" Then you began to cry uncontrollably, your fears and pain seeking release.

I stroked your hair just as I had done the night your mother passed away.

"I don't know what to do, babe. We can't stay where we are. Not now. And I don't know how to go forward. And we certainly can't go back!" I pulled you away and looked into your red, tear stained face.

"Earlier I said you were very brave and I admired you. You have carried this for the past year all alone. I failed you. I can't fix this. I can't make it go away. But, I can do one thing. This isn't your burden anymore. It's ours."

You pulled me back to you. "We'll solve this, baby" you sobbed into my neck. "No we won't, Erica. There may be no solution, only an ending to the pain we have. That may be the best we can do. A resolution but not a solution."

I held you back away from me and kissed your face. "But we can't solve it tonight. I'm wiped and I need to think more on this. And so do you. But we are in this together. I love you very much, Erica."

"Jim, I love you so much! You are my life!" you sobbed.

As I held you my eyes roamed the room. Our house, the home we made together, the days we shared together. My gaze swept from the letter now lying on the floor to the photos on the mantle. No, we wouldn't resolve this tonight, but we would resolve it. And no matter how we did our home would be shattered by it.

I stepped back. "I'm going to the bathroom and then to bed. Are you coming?"

You wiped your eyes and looked up at me a moment, searching my face. Finally, you smile a small smile. "Jim, you know I can't sleep without you there."

I took your hand and we walked up to the bedroom. Tomorrow we would begin looking for a resolution to this dilemma God or Fate had placed us in. I was angry still, and more than a little hurt. I felt confused and powerless. But I was happy and proud. Proud of my wife and her courage and the love which had allowed her to tell me what was wrong. I was proud of myself for being able to share this weight and take some small load from her shoulders.

Tomorrow would be a new day, the beginning of many days to come. But it would never again be a typical day.

Apologies to all you readers who wanted and ending to this. I feel that after reading "Torn" and "A Typical Day" you will come to agree with me that there is no single resolution. I wanted to leave this opened ended so that perhaps other writers, better ones than I could move forward with this, provide their perspective of what happens to these people next. In the story I wanted to show the love , the commitment and pain a revelation like this will cause. And I wanted to show that for some problems there are no easy answers in real life. So I leave it to someone else to take up the gauntlet if they will.

Oh, you may be wondering that since I claimed some personal knowledge of this kind of dilemma, what I did. What was my "resolution"? Keep wondering and write your own ending to that as well. :-)

Chagrined
Chagrined
344 Followers
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MormonJackMormonJack4 months ago

Wow, both Torn and this story are real and tough. I know of a family: 6 kids and the wife came out as gay. Was it a decision to be gay? Was she gay when she married 25 years earlier? Who knows? I do know that she divorced her husband. I think she wasn't devastated about breaking up the family, just embarrassed that she had pretended for at least a while. Him: yeah it hit him hard. Or of some other friends of mine: 3 kids when the husband came out as gay. She was devastated. Him: he said he had known his whole life but his religion had him believing that he should never feel that way. Divorced now.

Anyway, Chargrined: thanks for writing and sharing this powerful tale.

deependerdeepender9 months ago

Ah, the infamous Martian gay ray. One zap and you're queer for life. Gee, I thought for a long time that it was a condition at birth (they swore it was so). I guess now it's preference like choosing Virginia Slims over Bud Lite.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 2 years ago

Pathetic

AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 years ago

You don't become gay.

She may be feeling bi.But that doesn't make you abandon your husband.

She is intentionally destroying her kids and her husband. !hint she is suddenly gay doesn't cut it..ore like has been cheating and says gay to more easily dump husband and kids.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 2 years ago

Lousy story I hate it

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