Torn Asunder

Patricia51 wrote a very deep moving story entitled TORN, some weeks ago Chagrined posted his take on what could have happened next. This is my version of what could have happened. This is not about sex so all of you anonymous macho men who tried to put down Chagrined's story of what could happen can save yourself the trouble of reading this. That also goes for you humanists who think that man is the center of the universe. Pat thanks for the inspiration, Isaac thanks for the patience. X_Bishop

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Jim slowly gets out of his truck and approaches his house. His eyes scan the windows as he notices how quiet it is.

Damn it's been a long day. Normally a day like today would have been perfect for taking the afternoon off and going home for some afternoon delight with Erica. Unfortunately things haven't been normal the past few months. Something's wrong with her. Lately she's been withdrawn, hesitant to be close to me. I've asked time and again what's wrong, but she always says it's nothing and walks off, keeping her own counsel. I'm trying to be understanding, but there are times when I just want to scream at her to let it out so we can deal with it. After all, she is the love of my life. From age 17 through 4 years of dating, the kids and 15 years of marriage she's been my best friend and lover. We've watched our friends marry and divorce, marry again and divorce again, but through it all we've held onto each other. Through the ebbs and flows of life we've hung on and come through. At least that's the way it's been until the last 5 or 6 months.

Whoa, the house is quiet, too quiet. Obviously the kids aren't home. I can almost feel the tension ready to pounce like a jungle cat. There she is. Oh, man, that big cat just became a hippo. I haven't seen that look since her father passed away.

I want to hold her but she puts her hand on my chest to keep me at bay. This must really be serious judging from the deep breath she just took. I can feel her body shivering through her hand. What's this paper she's holding in her other hand? What's going on? I reach for it, but she pulls her arm away. Ok stop reaching, and use my other hand to gently lift her chin so I can look into her eyes.

She can't even look me in the eye? What's going on here? I don't understand. She's been crying! Judging from the way her eye's are swollen she's been crying for quite some time. Sigh! Even upset, she's still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Her shaking is getting worse. Now that makes me afraid.

"Erica? What is it? What's the matter?"

I reach for her again but she deflects my hands while backing away.

"(GASP) I'm sorry Jim. (GASP) I'm so sorry."

She turns and runs out the back door as she starts crying. My instincts say I should go after her, but then I see the crumpled paper on the floor in front of me. Some small voice in my head tells me that I need to take a look at this paper. She's taught me over the years to pay attention to that small voice. I note my name at the top. In confusion and concern, I unfold it and start to read.

What the hell is this, some kind of joke? Gay? GAY!? Something is definitely wrong here. GAY? Where the hell did this come from? She can't be gay. She's my wife, for Christ's sake! She's gorgeous and sexy, hell we made love just ... she sucked my cock not two days ago. Who's been filling her head with this gay bullshit? I know somethings been bothering her, but GAY? Oh hell no....

She thinks she is? There's no 'think' you're gay, you either choose to be or you choose not to. I could see bisexual, but not a total freakin lesbian.

There has to be reason. You don't, after 15 years of marriage, just decide you're gonna be a dyke. Unless – she's been in the closet all this time? No, no, no we've had too many wild and crazy times, too much wild and crazy sex, for me to believe that. Hell, this ain't New Jersey. But -- what if she HAS been in the closet? Afraid to tell even me? I mean if that's the case, it means she's been lying to me the whole time we've been together! No that can't be it. Come on, Jim, you gotta get a grip here. There must have been something you did or didn't do to cause all this. W-We'll fix this. Yeah we – we'll sit down and we'll work this out. I'm not married to a lesbian; she's just mad or confused.

-----------------------------

I couldn't do it. I couldn't bear to look in his eyes. I—oh no. Oh god NO! I dropped it. I've got to go back and – NOOO! It's too late. He's reading it. I can't bear to see his face. I can imagine the confusion and turmoil he's in. He's probably trying to rationalize it thinking this is just a phase or I'm confused and not thinking straight. My god, even now I still doubt my own sanity. I'm so sorry my love. You don't deserve this kind of pain.

I've got to go back in. I've got to face him. I don't know what I can do to salvage this, but I've got to try.

Erica comes back in the house and finds her husband sitting at the dining room table, staring straight ahead.

He's so still. Oh, my darling, I'm so sorry. I wish I could take this all away. I wish things could be the way they were. I still love you. If I could just hold you and you hold me.

Tentatively she reaches and barely touches his shoulder. She sees his hands ball up into fists as he leans forward, away from her hand.

"Don't touch me!"

"Jim, baby I'm sorry. I'm so sorry but –"

"Sorry? For fifteen years I've given my all to you, Erica - my heart and my soul - and this is how you return my love? 'Sorry Jim but I no longer want you, I'm a dyke?'"

"Jim – I know this is a shock, it's tearing me up inside, but I couldn't keep going on like this. I love you more than you'll ever know, but I couldn't keep up the pretense any longer. It's driving me crazy, and it's tearing us apart."

"NO! It's not tearing us apart, YOU are!"

"Jim, I..."

"I can fix a broken window. I can fix a busted pipe. I can even fix minor stuff on the car. But how can I fix this? How am I suppose to respond when my wife and the mother of my children tells me that she's decided to become a damn lesbian. That she doesn't want me any more, that she wants another woman, that my 'loving' touch is repulsive to her. What am I suppose to do, move into the basement so you can have your lover in our bedroom? O-Or better yet I'll go out and get two twin beds so you can be near me but not have to worry about me touching you. Sure, we'll just become the Rob and Laura Petrie of 2005. I never could understand how they had Richie when they always slept in separate beds."

"Jim my darling I'm so sorry, but I didn't ask for this. It just happened."

"No, it didn't just happen. You allowed it to happen."

"No! I didn't allow it."

"Oh no? Well, as my friend Mac would say, let me break this down to you."

She looks so shaken and broken up. Well join the club, love.

"You remember Samantha and Justin. At first happily married, then all hell broke loose and Samantha started running around with that crook? They got divorced, and even though they are in the reconciliation stage now, it was a mystery to everyone as to why Samantha did what she did. Well, recently I talked to Justin and I asked him. Do you know what he told me?

"He told me that Samantha became obsessed with a dream that she had always had. The public spectacle she made of herself was after the fact. What caused the divorce was her following through on the fantasy that she had. Even though she knew it was no good, she wouldn't put it down. She became addicted to it. Her going after that fantasy was what caused the divorce. The circumstances here aren't exactly the same but the similarities can't be denied.

"You say this thing started about a year ago. How did it start? My bet is that it started with just a funny little thought. Maybe no more than, say, you craving a second piece of pie. You would deny that craving because you want to keep your figure. You know that if you don't deny it, you'll eventually start eating whatever appeals to you whenever it hits you. Next thing you know you'll be wondering why your clothes don't fit. The process here is the same. You thought that first thought and probably chuckled and didn't pay it any attention. Then it came back, and you didn't deal with it again. Each time it became easier to think about it. Then you started making up little excuses for it. It kept coming back and each time you didn't say no to it, the more power you unknowingly gave it. Till finally it was a full blown temptation strong and bold enough to hit you full in the face. Now you're shocked and you try to reason your way around it. It doesn't go away though; it continues on, till it consumes you. It's all here in your letter you've become obsessed with it.

"So, then you found help in not walking away. All the TV, radio and gossip messages that gay-rights people shove down our throats: things like "If you've ever had a gay thought then you're gay." Or maybe you listened to some other confused silly person on Rikki Lake or Maury or, heaven help us, Jerry Springer. Hell, you may even have listened to those faggots on the street corner when they'd say "I always knew I was attracted to men." Like they came out of their mother's womb attracted to the male doctor or nurse. They try to make lifestyle into life itself but it's a lie. You don't choose life, you do choose a lifestyle. You either follow or don't follow each option you come across.

"Look out this window. See those teenagers across the street - that group of all boys? There's a black kid, 2 white kids and an asian. If I ask you to identify the asian or the black can you do that? Sure that's simple. You don't even have to be up close to do it. That's LIFE! Tell me which one is gay? Should be easy to identify if they been gay since birth. Can't tell me huh? You don't know if they're all hetero or all homo or all bi. You wouldn't know that unless you observed and listened to them, interacted with them. That's when you would discover their choice of lifestyle.

"You had a choice to make Erica but you either chose wrong or not at all. Each time you chose NOT to squash the fantasy, the desire came back stronger. You chose to walk this path. You chose it, even though you knew it would be trouble. Now it's become an addiction to you, and you have drawn me and the kids into the middle of it."

I knew this would be bad, but I didn't expect this. He's bouncing between anger and grief, and they're feeding on each other. Oh god, what have I done?

"Jim, please ... you know I love only you. No matter what you may think, I can't help the way I feel. Maybe I have a repressed gay gene, I don't know. But I know that, no matter what, I love you and I want to keep us together. That's why I wrote the letter - to get it out and let us talk about it."

"About what, Erica? We talk about what? That you love me? Did you really think I'd even come close to your sarcastic remark in the letter: 'Just come home to me whenever you happen to come this way?' You say you're bitter? Hell, I'm the one that's getting hurt."

"Don't you think it hurts me to have to admit this to you? I'm dying inside! I'm watching the heart of the man I love break, and I'm the cause of it! I'm telling you so we can somehow work this out."

"Yeah, I read that in the letter. How you want it to work out, 'I want it all somehow. I want what we've had for so many years, and I want fulfillment of the

desires

I have now.' Well, you can't have it both ways. Don't you see? You've already shut me out. You're absolutely right; I noticed the change in our sex life. How am I suppose to feel when you tell me that making love to ME repulses you, that you have to imagine it's some dyke with a strap-on just to get off? My god, I used to joke with the guys that if a woman wanted a strap on cock, she really wanted the real thing. Then you confuse yourself and me because you wonder how you can pull away from me and still love to suck my cock. After reading this, I have to ask what are you really thinking as you do that, Erica? Are you imagining yourself as some submissive lesbian slut, sucking that same rubber cock you imagined yourself getting off on when we make love? Scratch that; there's no love there. You've reduced me to just a fuck. You've turned me into a glorified male whore."

"That's not fair and it's not true! I love you and what we have! I'm trying to save that. I'm trying to save us! Don't you understand I still love you! I love being with you. I don't want us to end. I want us to remain a family."

I've got to get a grip. She's right about one thing. She is trying to find some answers, but she doesn't understand that there's more to her questions than she wants to admit. If she has her so-called cake and eats it too, what's left for me? She's been my heart and soul for more than 15 years and now she wants me to just accept half of a relationship. When we married I didn't say, "I take the left half of you Erica" or "I take you only on the odd numbered days." I made an all or nothing commitment. I don't know if I can survive on half a marriage.

"Jim I may not want to you sexually, but sex isn't everything in a relationship. I still love being with you."

"Yeeeess, I read that part of the letter too. My touch still fills you with warmth. Don't you see, soon your obsession will affect that as well? Soon, even that won't have a special meaning. Without that special intimacy, the next coffee on the porch on a Sunday morning could reduce me to being just a close friend, or maybe even a puppy. It still is a nice beautiful moment but it's lost that special magic that comes from sharing it inside a whole and complete relationship. You want to hold hands, but you don't want to hold me. You want me near because you're used to me, you're comfortable with me. We've built a

lifestyle - a series of choices -

that you like. Comfort is a part of a relationship but, like sex, it's just that - a part. Don't you understand that a relationship works both ways? You want me to somehow be accommodating of your new lifestyle choice so you can remain comfortable, but how can I be comfortable knowing that I've been demoted from being your lover and companion to little more than a play brother. There are plenty of woman that I can hold hands with, but you are the only one I love. That means something more, and it deserves something more.

"You say you haven't betrayed our vows but you're wrong. You've let something come between us. It showed itself at the party with Dee Archer. In your own words you threw yourself at Dee. What would you have done if she had accepted and made you the catch–of-the-night? You admit you drank too much so you could make your move. Now you try to act like there was no harm no foul because she didn't accept you, but that's a lie. There was a transgression. You didn't stop yourself, she did! She was the one that had the respect for our marriage. When you decided you were going to make your move, that's when you broke your vows. That's when you betrayed me."

"No."

"Oh yeah, Erica, you betrayed me. It was in you to cheat on me that night. I know because if you caught me throwing myself at another woman, booze or no booze, successful or not, we'd still be fighting about it."

But it didn't happen! I haven't been with Dee or anyone. How can I make him understand that my love for him is a different and separate thing? It's something that I treasure and need. I don't want to lose it.

"Jim I do love you. I don't want anyone else, and I don't want to lose you."

"According to your letter what you mean to say is you don't want

sexual relations

with a man, including me. Erica, suppose I give you permission for a one-time tryst with Dee? What if you found that it was everything you've been dreaming about? Where does that leave me? I know you. If it's everything you've dreamed of, you'll never give it up. How am I supposed to survive on half a relationship? Let's take it one step farther. What if you fall in love with Dee or whoever you choose to be with? How are you going to explain it to the kids? How are you going to tell them that you kicked their father out of your heart and replaced him with a woman?"

"(Sob) I don't know, Jim. I only know that we can't keep on like this, it will tear us apart."

"WILL tear us apart? That's my heart you've just shredded and tossed on the table; my life you've just thrown into the pit."

"Jim, I would do anything to spare you this? I love you and only you. I don't want to hurt you; there must be some way to work through this."

"Just how do you propose we work through this? From where I'm standing, I only see 2 choices:

Say no and watch as you slowly drift away into you new lifestyle.

Say okay and let you go have your fun while I sink into misery."

"No, Jim, I love you and I could never hurt you like that."

"Don't you understand? You've already done it. I'm already sinking. You did it before this letter, before throwing yourself at Dee Archer. You did it when you let those thoughts, those fantasies, become an obsession with you. You did it when you let it corrupt our intimacy. You did it when you believed everyone else's lies and half truths instead of looking in your heart and letting our love come out.

"Now you want me to be understanding because you can't control it. Well, I understand that NOW you can't control it. I understand because you should have controlled it, and yourself, BACK THEN. When you didn't resist the temptation is when you hurt me. Now you have the nerve to be mad at the very God you teach people about in Sunday school. Well it wasn't his fault. You were the one who taught me that he gives us the power to choose, AND he gives us a way out when we are tempted. The question here is why you didn't take the way out."

Oh God, give me the words to say. Something to calm his anger and ease his pain. He's right - I allowed this obsession to grow. I turned from him, not he from me. But in my heart I didn't betray him. How can I make him understand that?

"Jim, I know you're hurting, I'm hurting to. This whole thing sounds like some sick joke. I don't know maybe if I were sick things would be different."

"Erica, you are sick, but not in the way you want to see it. If you were physically ill and couldn't make love - if it were painful to you - of course, I could handle that. I have never forced you to do anything. If you were sick like that, it would be a willing sacrifice coming from me out of my love for you. I would love you through your sickness.

"But you're not physically sick. You are CHOOSING to turn away from me. Choosing to turn to something and someone else, even though at this time there is no specific someone. Choosing a lifestyle that rejects my physical love for you. What has always been an expression of love has become, for you, a sacrifice or, even worse, a chore that you don't want to do. You say you know this is agonizing for me? You don't begin to know my pain. My heart has shuddered every time you turned away from my kiss, and to now realize that my most intimate touch is repellent to you shatters the already broken pieces of my heart. Even if you wake up tomorrow a changed woman, how can I ever look at you the same, believe in you, trust in you?

Wait a minute. Maybe that's the key. She IS sick. She's obsessed. Maybe I have no choice but to make this sacrifice from love. Maybe I have to try to love her through this sickness if I can? I certainly can't leave the kids to face this alone. Someone has to be there for them when she gives in to this and turns her back on everything she's ever taught them.

"I guess there's only one answer - one thing that will give you what you say you desire."