Chapter Twenty
“I guess this is a last good-bye, huh?” Mike held up a wine glass to his frequent visitor. “It’s been nice, dude.” That was it.
“Why would you say that? It doesn’t have to be. Does it? I really don’t want to leave ... don’t want to go through with it,” Mike’s young suitor said from his sitting position on the sofa. “I’m not gonna go through with it. I can’t. I love you.”
Mike thought he was about to drop his red wine all over his beige Berber carpet beneath his socked feet. Turning his back to the fireplace and facing his latest and greatest love, Mike held his breath.
“What did you say?” Mike asked.
“You know my situation,” the youngster said. “But I don’t want to go through with it.”
“Yeah, but what does that have to do with me? Look.” Mike set his drink down and forgot all about the good time he’d had only moments earlier. With the look on his young lover’s face, Mike felt he was being a little too harsh.
He hadn’t thought beyond their first encounter eight months earlier. To Mike it was all about just having fun, another fling. Enjoying his life the way he wanted to ... answering to no one but God. And even then Mike was still having issues.
Feeling as if he was a little too rough Mike tried to change his tone. “Why would you switch up?” he asked. “For me? I change like the wind and plus this life ain’t easy.”
Mike’s latest tryst stood, upset that Mike’s action was telling him more than he wanted to know. “You’re saying that why? To get me out of your hair?” the young man asked.
“You’re kidding me, right? No,” Mike lied. He turned again and walked toward his enclosed patio. The only lighting that greeted Mike was the starts. Before he could turn to shut the sliding glass door, he stood face to face with someone he’d grown to admire. “We are men! Men don’t love one another like this, man.” Mike was infuriated with himself. He didn’t even know what he was saying. Mike just knew he didn’t wish this much confusion on anyone. Not even his enemies.
“Oh, so now you tell me? After all we’ve done ...” The confused twenty-something tried to stare a hole in Mike through the dark. He was willing to stand the test of time with someone he felt he wanted to be with. “After you befriended me? After you shared with me who you really are?”
“Who am I?” Mike shot from his vocals. “Who am I, dude?” He pushed the young man, who could have easily been his own child’s age had he done what his father wanted from him: marry and have babies. “One minute I worship God and everything He is ...” Mike cried out. “Then the next minute I’m swearing against Him for not allowing me to know who I am. I don’t know!” he yelled, crying out into the dark. “You don’t want this.” He slapped his own chest. “Because I don’t even want it. I just don’t know how to let it go.” Mike’s lip quivered as he lost his cool, falling into the closest lawn chair from the tears and the alcohol that had crowded his system.
The young man didn’t know what to do. With Mike sharing his drunken, but true, feelings, he wanted further clarity. Yet and still, all the drama that was presenting itself still didn’t detour him from what his heart felt, what his body felt. Walking over to an open chair right next to Mike, he sat in silence.
Mike said, “I ... I’m just as confused as the next person, dude. If you can pull away from this ...” He turned and looked into the young man’s eyes. Sincerity ran across his face. “Do it. Some people are not going to share their innermost feelings about how they really feel about themselves ... how they struggle ... how they don’t even hear God anymore.” Mike closed his eyes and shook his head. “I get the stares, the whispers, and I try ... I try to act as if it really doesn’t matter. Like, I’m okay with being me, regardless. It’s not the truth.” He opened his eyes and looked back at the confused face looking back at him, only this time with a face full of tears. “I don’t even want to be me, dude. Can you say you want to be you ... the way you are?”
The young man just sat there, staring back at what could possibly be the older version of him one day. Would he be okay with what he’d done, how he’d disobeyed God’s Word? Would his own children one day still want to be in his life? It was too much to think about. All he knew was that the present was what he wanted to focus on.
“I don’t know. I know for now, you are who I want to be with.” He turned his chair to the right in order to face Mike. “I can’t ...” He set a serious tone; he declared, “I won’t allow you to just push me away that easily.”
Fearing it was going to go in the direction he felt it would, Mike didn’t know what else to do, but to just sit there. What else could he do? He had no doubt brought the drama on himself, yet again. Closing his eyes, Mike leaned his head back and prayed as he felt a tight hold and squeeze to his hand. The same squeeze Vicky had given him when he knew it would never work with her either.