Memories

If there is one thing that I am learning during this process of divorce is that I am enjoying my alone time. And, at this particular time I’ve been on a business trip to New York City. I’m not climbing the walls. I’m not afraid of having “down time.” I’m actually able to sit down and compose these entries and I find this is actually helping me process things better -- to put thoughts in writing. It’s good therapy.

It’s also a time of self-discovery…of remembrance.

I’m learning what it’s like not to be uptight about my sexuality. It’s okay to explore. It’s okay to read. It’s okay to learn what my particular tastes are.

It’s also comforting to know that I’m not alone. This is confirmed by the comments I am receiving via email and the comments that are posted here. Thanks to all of you for taking the time to affirm me.

So much of the controversy surrounding gayness in today’s culture seems to stem from the preoccupation with the physical manifestations of being gay. Granted, this is a part of the whole package, but for me, it doesn’t define the whole.

However, when one is first dealing with all the rush of feelings and emotions that accompany the breakup of a longtime heterosexual marriage, the need for sex seems to be magnified a thousand fold. The same happens (at least for me) when one is coming out to one’s self. Many psychologists and counselors believe in the concept of a “gay adolescence.” They say that it is because if you have spent your life and your energy trying to be straight, that you actually miss out on what it’s like to “sow yor wild oats.”

So here I am at 47. Embarking on a facet of my life – one that I never thought would happen to me. A divorce after 24 long years of marriage. AND…I suppose I should be sowing some wild oats about now.

But I’m not.

Several years after we had adopted our son in 1986, who by the way, is now a 20 year old United States Marine, “Lovey” decided that we no longer needed to have physical acrobatics in our bedroom. This, I later learned, is rather common in mixed orientation marriages. There just comes a time when both parties decide not to express themselves to each other in this way. (Usually when the husband comes out to the wife, a honeymoon period follows where there is more sex than can be handled – I think that it is because the wife thinks she can prove her husband is not gay.)

So during the fall of 1990, I met Dan, another married man who was in similar circumstances. I was 32 and he was 47. Funny, but he was the age then that I am now. He had children in college, had been married for many, many years.

Early on in his life, he had held a very high political office in his city, but was outed as a result of an indiscretion in a public bathroom. As a result, he was out to his wife and children. The news media had made his experience into a circus event. He was forced to resign and move out of his state…out of his region.

He landed in my city, working for the government in a much lesser capacity than what he had been used to. His family had made many financial sacrifices. He was paying dearly for his gayness.

We became fast friends. He and I liked each other. And, as nature took its course, he and I began to take care of each other’s more physical and carnal needs on an occasional basis. He’d call me up when he needed me and vice versa.

At the outset we established ground rules. He would never expect nor want to meet my family. He expected the same of me. We agreed that we would never have a partnership or a live-in arrangement. This would only be his and my secret and we would take care of each other in that way.

And so it began…

We had some great times. I’d listen to him talk about his children and about his wife. He loved them dearly, but he felt that he had let them down. He was consumed by guilt, but he also knew that he had needs to take care of.

We met periodically for over seven years.

Near the seven year mark, he was getting depressed. His wife had become suicidal. Financial problems were mounting. He took on a second job at a department store. I could see it was taking its toll. I also knew that my feelings for him had changed. Emotional feelings were surfacing after seven years that I never thought would happen. I wanted to tell him…but because of our agreement that we had made at the beginning of our relationship I remained silent.

And then, the unthinkable happened…