From an untitled work by me:
J,
I have spent a hundred nights or more since last winter wandering through my mind trying to find a way to tell you all that is there. I've started this letter almost as many times and then given up each time for want of substance and clarity. I'm not used to being this unsure of myself, so my thoughts become easily tangled and my speech simply fails. I am writing this now solely because I need to get this out of my mind and into the world. You may never see this, but it is something I need to do.
My personal life is mundane and yet still tragic…or at least, it feels that way to me. I've tried to tell you so many times why, but I could just never manage the words. I remember walking into the Tibetan restaurant and seeing that faint smile when you caught sight of me. The memory of that is something that will linger with me for as long as I am able to remember. You were so excited about the vegan appetizers that you ordered two and laughed when they came out because they were so big. We had fun that day and probably talked far too long. You were probably late getting back to work, but I don't think you minded. I tried telling you then, but the waiter kept interrupting whenever I would start. I think he saw something in us that maybe I hadn't fully grasped. Something changed that day, though. Whether it was something I said or didn't say, I don't know. Yet, when we left your hug wasn't as warm as it used to be.
We came together again for another lunch some time later. I was resolved to tell you then no matter what fear may take me. I waited until we were done with lunch, but I stalled. We were too exposed there for me to bring it up. I was flustered. So much so, that when we were saying our goodbyes, I tried to blurt it out. I said something along the lines of “...giving you mixed signals.”, which I now realize you probably took the wrong way. I wasn't trying to say that I didn't want to be with you. I just wanted to tell you why I had to wait. Why I was so confused. You were gracious about it, but I knew that I had made a mess of things…again.
I came to the Christmas party late because the idea of watching people get sloppy drunk while remaining sober was too reminiscent of the place we used to work. I ventured out anyway because I wanted to spend time with you. You were there with Nick's friend passing the time but he became invisible when I showed up. I saw that same smile that would captivate me again and again and it made my heart warm despite the winter blustering outside. That same night, you touched my arm timidly as if afraid to show affection. I think it was then that I began to realize that I had already fallen for you. We left the second bar together and as we walked back to the cars, you said to me that the night didn't have to end then. I wish that I had listened to you. I wish I hadn't been so lost in my own turmoil to see what was literally right in front of me.
There were other meetings and other times, but let us not dwell on such things. Time to make things plain.
Two years ago, my wife of 25 years came to me and confessed that she believed she was transgender. The world shook at that moment and I trembled with it. I don't know that I have truly recovered. I wrestled with this for some time afterwards, but came to the conclusion that this was it. I couldn't follow her down this path and I would have to move on with my life. Do you remember the day we were supposed to go to the Mexican restaurant and have margaritas? How we held hands before your daughter called and you had to go to meet her? I remember your wide smile that day and how we talked briefly of silver jewelry. That was the day I was going to do it. That was the day I was going to take the first true step towards you. But you had to leave and that left me there in the booth with only my beer and my thoughts.
I wasn't that guy. Guilt settled in me as I sat there swirling broken chips in the rapidly cooling cheese. Maybe she would change her mind over time? Maybe her brother's suicide was making her act out? Even as I thought these things, I knew they weren't true. What was I to do? It was obvious to me by the time I had finished my drink. I had to see it through even though it might mean losing your smile. So, that is what I did.
We went on vacation in July for our 25th anniversary. Her desire to transitioon came up again while we were there and I told her and my daughter that I couldn't follow her/him on this path. I would support them, pay for what needed to be paid, and help with doctors visits and the like, but I couldn't follow where they were going. There was shouting, cursing, and terrible things said by my that day. I was wounded and completely at a loss as to what to do. As I lay in the dark that night, listening to the waves from the lake roll against the shore, I began to miss you terribly.
The following year was the most momentous for you and I. The regret I feel for not allowing myself to be aware of you more at the Christmas party is a genuine heartache. Still, what is in the past must stay there. That was the year your department was downsized by a small minded and lackluster management that left an empty office where my friend once sat. That was also the year my wife began her journey in earnest. After the second family trip, the reality of what was happening came to me like waves beating at the base of the lighthouse. I texted you that I missed you, but it was so much more. I was still determined to see this through as I thought this was the right and proper way to be. It was a sad thing to continue, to be sure, but this was right. In truth, it was more for my daughter that I stayed than anything else. She would turn 18 the following winter and would then be off to college. I only had to hold on until then.
I needed to tell you. I tried to tell you. I failed.
It wasn't until the day of the surgery that I began fall apart. As I sat there in the waiting room and the nurse came out to call for the “family for Bert”, that I cried for the first time. I sat in the recovery room listening to the nurse tell me what needed to be done for their after surgery care. I nodded politely as the nurse showed the gauze and the ointments that were needed barely heeding the intervals required. They called her new name every time they came in to check on her…no, him…and it made me flinch every time. I took the person that had been my wife home that day, sat them in the recliner, and then moved to the deck and fought back the wailing storm in my head.
You had a new job and responsibilities having moved on from the weakness of others.. We talked less now as each of our respective jobs demanded more and more of us. There were attempts at connections, but they never seemed to work out the way you had hoped. You never said anything, but I could see the disappointment and it wrecked me each time. I kept telling myself I was doing the right thing. I believe that I was, but the consolation of keeping my dignity intact is now pale and hollow in my mind.
Texting became our main method of connection. A thin digital lifeline between you and I. You told me of your freedom and I made jokes about nonsensical things to make you laugh because that made me happy. But even this began to fade over time. After your birthday, the tenor of the texts changed. Perhaps I just hadn’t noticed it before but I think it is more likely that that is when you met him. Over the next few months, you left a trail of breadcrumbs the size of donuts for me to piece together what was happening. I saw it and I knew, but I had to hear from you.
So, I screwed my courage to the sticking place and set out to make a statement. I had asked, but I don't think you believed I would do it. I had convinced myself that it was time to start doing things for myself. I showed up at your darkened door and left my modest offering of flowers at your doorstep. I drove away not accepting that I was far too late.
I knew what was coming. Inside, I knew it. Yet, hearing it from you was more upsetting than I could have realized. I could not have imagined how wounded I felt when I read those words. The intensity of it continues to surprise me, but maybe something good can come of this. It's made me think about it…examine it…know it.
I am in love with you.
This brings me to now. Sitting here typing a letter that would have been better served had it been written much sooner. I don't expect this revelation of mine to change anything for that would be too selfish on my part. Still, I have to get it out. Even if I am only casting the words into the night sky for no one to hear but myself and the distant stars. It is something I need to say.
I love you.
Always,
SRG
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