Being gay is not a choice. It’s who you are. It’s important for her to understand that. The one thing I can’t control. God knows I’ve tried. I’ve masked my own feelings for years. I explain how much I’ve grown to dislike how gay guys behave. The entire culture. How scared I am about what my life is going to be like. Fears for my family, the people I love. Yet the pull is there.
I’m done telling lies, done with the political defy of spinning a story. I hate that she is attractive, a willing sexual partner, she’s cool, a great mom, a great cook, a fantastic entertainer, a best friend. My eyes watering up, the odds of me finding a guy to replace her is gonna be like finding WMD in Iraq.
I wish I could be this “well of course I’m a fag” type of guy. The one who comes out at 20 without ever being with a guy. But I’m not. I’m in the gray zone and that’s just where I’ll always be. She’s happy, I’m finally being honest.
My company has asked me to go do a short term stint in Europe. This would get me out of the house in January for the 1st half of the year. I can tilt that whatever way I want. Peter is going to Utah to ski, I could sublet his apartment. Either way, our marriage as we know it is over.
“You need to stop looking”, my wife is telling me about my desire to find a relationship. “It’s going to find you, I know how you manage these things, just let it come to you.” She recognizes I’ve had 2 major conflicts. A mid-life crisis, if you will, and the sexual orientation. She urges me to treat each separately. I’m on it.
The new hell is about to begin. We’ve agreed to be friends, help & comfort each other. We’ll work thru the details. There’s no big hurry.