choices

colorado bridge pasadena, ca april 2011

eighteen years ago, i was faced with several adult choices.

i had moved back to la from sac, moved back home from living with the boys father.

i found out i was pregnant, and i had decided to keep the baby but dump the daddy.

i was scared.  i was confused.  i was a mother.

*****
a year and a half before, i met the boys father.  he was so amazingly sweet and attentive, and i needed that since i had been neglected by the red haired boy for three years earlier.

the boys father was careful with his feelings, but a week into our relationship, he couldnt bear to be separated from me.  he went to class with me, he stayed in my apartment, he neglected his life, and i became the focus.

it was overwhelming, but it was what i needed then.  i loved that when we were at a party, his gaze was always on me.  i loved that when i went to bed and woke up, he was there.  i loved that he loved me more than i loved him.

and for awhile, it was so wonderful.  my friends loved us.  his friends hated me.  which was great because that meant we never had to go to his apartment.

he was serious about this, but i was only 22, and i began to look at my life as if it had been decided for me.

in many ways, we were alike.  we both were addicted to each other, we loved just being in bed for days at a time during the weekends, and even when we would go out to restaurants, we needed to just go home immediately to be alone.  sex was amazing with him.  we broke my bed from fucking hard and often.  we were both sensitive.

but our differences were huge, and they counted more than our similarities.  he was shy, and i was social.  i was witty, and he was sarcastic.  i needed my space, and he needed my space.  i had a best friend who was also my exbf, and he had me as a friend.  his family was upper middle class, mine was middle class.  he thought of the future, and i was always in the present.  i loved the arts, and he loved music.  i valued money, and he was provided for.  i retreated into my own quietness when i was hurt, and he wanted to talk about it.

his generosity awed me.  he gave freely without putting anything over my head.  my son has that gene.

twice, he brought up the subject of marriage.  well, once, his father did.  the very first time we were introduced, he said, so, youre the one my son will marry.

uh, i like him, too.

that was news to me. and i certainly didnt think about marriage with someone i had known for six weeks.  i was a bit perturbed.

the second time was a morning in november.  we had class, but we had just finished fucking, and we were running late.  i got out of the shower, and he was still in bed.

get up, lazy bum, i said.  we are going to be parking in butt fuck egypt if we dont leave in ten minutes.

we were in my room, so i was moving his stuff around to find my clothes.  i was getting frustrated by the clutter and lack of space.

i looked at him, and he was staring at me.

whats going on?  you want to skip today?

i was just thinking of something, he said.

tell me in the bathroom.  ill get ready while you take a shower.

m, i know youre the right person for me, but i dont think youve thought about marrying me.

wheres this coming from?

just admit it.  its okay.

i moved to him on the bed, and i gave him a hug.  he looked distraught, as if he had been thinking about this for so long.

hey, i know that youre a stud with the ladies, but theres something that you havent experienced yet.

whats that? he asked.

i moved down his body, and i took his exposed cock in my mouth.  it was his first time, and he was unable to talk for awhile.  understandably, we didnt make it to class.

everything was awesome, especially when we didnt talk about long term stuff.  we hung out, fucked, and when there was time, we ate and went to class and slept.

a few months later, by circumstance, we moved in together.  he was ecstatic.  i was hesitant.  he packed up his stuff in a few hours.  i put it off until he did it for me.

this was too big a step, but we needed to save money, and two rent payments was stupid.

i saw it for economic purposes.  he saw it as a preparation for the house with the picket fence.

a few months after we moved in, i got strep throat.  i thought i was going to die.  but he took care of me, and i was so grateful.  i loved that the most about him.

when i graduated from college, my family came up and met him for the first time.  they liked him, but they liked the red haired boy even more.  that fucker crashed the party, even though i asked him not to.

things after that became bad.  he gave me an ultimatum to stop being friends with the red haired boy, and i said that i wouldnt.  the red haired boy and i are still friends today.  the boys father and i barely tolerate each other, though at my sons graduation, he was very civil to the point of being friendly.

silence permeated the apartment.  we still fucked all the time, but it was a sad attempt at connecting.  he stopped trying, and i let him.  there were no others involved because i asked him point blank if there was someone else.  he wasnt the type to lie, and i trusted him.

one morning before work, he wrote me a note.  he wrote of his feelings about our situation, his side of the story, how he was trying to work this out, but he felt that it was just him doing it all.  he said he was hurt by my silence, and how i chose the red haired boy, and how i fuck him without foreplay or cuddling.

he said he loved me, that this could work, but we have to talk more and put more effort in each other.  he wanted to get married after he graduated, to be patient with him.

i felt awful.  he really was trying, and i appreciated it.  that night, we made plans to spend the weekend in the apartment.  we bought food to cook, and at the grocery store, he smiled at me.  i was touched.

we rented a few movies, the ones that i wanted because he said he wanted me to be happy.  he was going to cook his famous spaghetti dish, and i was going to clean up after him.  we were going to disconnect with the world in an effort to connect with each other.

friday night, i was excited.  i got home from work, took a shower, and cuddled with him on the couch.  he kissed me hello, and many orgasms later, we got ready to cook.

the phone rang, and we looked at each other.  he answered it.  it was his gay friend who i thought had a crush on him.  he was inviting the boys father to go to tahoe.

and the boys father, instead of saying no, said, okay.  let me ask her.  he hung up the phone.

he looked at me, and i looked away.

just go.  i know you want to, i said.

itll only be for a few hours, then we can come back and just be with each other.  come on, itll be fun.

this is bullshit.  you planned this weekend with me.  you agreed on what we were going to do.  and going to tahoe is more important than us?

no.  youre right.  let me tell him.

i was so hurt. and i felt myself walking away while he talked on the phone.

when he found me, i was crying.

whats wrong? i told him we werent going.

the fact that you had to think about it, that you didnt know makes me think that you want to go, and you should.

i dont want to go.  i want to be with you.  but if you want to go, we can go for just a few hours.  we will back by midnight.

this is what i mean.  youre trying to convince me.  just go.  forget the plans.  just go.

i pushed him away from me, and i stayed in the room, and i cried, and i knew that this was over.  i knew that i wasnt going to work anymore, and that he will have to do it.

when he left, i called the red haired boy and told him what happened.  we hung out, and he thought it was me wanting sex because i got in a fight with the boys father.

i told him that i wasnt interested.  that we were friends, and i cant bring myself to fuck anyone else.

the next day, the boys father and i continued our silence, and i moved out six weeks later.

*****
ive only had three long term relationships.  two involved cohabitation.

i wanted them both to work.  i wanted somehow to be redeemed by them.

i loved the two men i was with.  loved them so much that i shared five years of my life with each.

and i tried to make it work, but there was a point that i couldnt compromise with myself to try anymore.

walking away is always scary.  i blamed myself, even though the fault wasnt entirely mine.

i felt unworthy of love because i hurt two men who loved me.  i labeled myself as someone who ran away, and for years, i lived up to that label fully.

i carried the guilt that perhaps i didnt exhaust all possibilities.  that i could overlook the coldness or the alcoholism.

i made my needs secondary throughout those relationships, and i believe thats my greatest downfall.  i wanted so much to avoid confrontation and talks of ending all ties that i suffered silently.

and i found myself looking for what was lacking in my relationships outside of our homes.

i wanted to feel wanted, to feel sexy, to feel the novelty of conversations and ideas.  i never cheated on the boys father, and i only kissed one guy at the very end of the relationship with the exbf.

i avoided coming home and dreaded the nights because thats when i felt the loneliest.  the weekends were awful and caused anxiety.

sex was always a part of those relationships, but nothing beats making love.

*****
the pain of separation.  now thats a cruelty that no one should face, but it is inevitable sometimes.  its a gamble, a leap of faith, a knowing that it is right.

if there is any doubt that this is the best thing, then stay.  fight.  move heaven and earth to be together.

if its the end of the line, then walk.  back straight.  be of courage that this decision is the best but not necessarily the easiest.

and then ask, will i regret this decision ten years from now?  five years from now?   six months from now?  at this moment?

i promised myself to never live with regret, so there were many times i changed my mind at the last minute.  i willed myself to be someone i wasnt, to deny myself over and over again.

one thing ive learned.  nothing ever ends.  it just shifts.  life to death is a shift in physical form.  love and hate is a shift in emotions.

beginnings and endings are a shift from mindset.  this cycle of starting and finishing is fascinating.  its in nature.  its in lifespan.  its in our very humanity.

change is a good thing.  even if that change feels like the worse possible fate, its only temporary.

youll see.