Paul and Paula - Her Story 03

***

"You only have one life"

Cell phones were the new fad for most people by that time. But for many in business, they became a must tool. To be honest, I can't remember not having a cell now, nor understanding how people did real estate work without one. It irritated my family that I received calls throughout the day and the weekend. But that was the reality of my new career. Thus I informed them that since they were all enjoying the perks of this new income for the family, they had to accept the calls.

We were at the dinner table when the call arrived.

"Paula Donnelly," I answered.

'Hey sis. It's Bill.' my younger brother.

"Hi, Bill!" I said excitedly as my family smiled that it was not a business call. "It's your uncle."

"Hi, uncle Bill," Ben yelled out as Patricia rolled her eyes while Paul smiled at me.

"Everyone says hi," I said to Bill.

'Tell them hi from me,' Bill replied. 'I am at the airport for a couple of hours. I haven't seen you for a while. Can you swing by?'

"Bill, I wish I could. But Ben has a soccer game...."

"Mom," Ben cut in. "Dad and Patty can come to the game. Go see Uncle Bill."

What a thoughtful young man my son was becoming. I loved him more by the day.

"It's Patricia," my daughter corrected her brother, and it was his turn to roll his eyes.

"Are you sure?" I asked him and looked around at everyone.

Paul nodded.

"Go. I'll take them, and we'll see you later. HI BILL!" Paul yelled at the phone in my hand.

'Hi Paul,' I heard my brother on the other end.

He gave me his gate number, and I was on my way in minutes. This was pre 9/11, so I could go by his gate at the lounge. After hugs and kisses, we got a drink and sat to talk. No security lines and separation of fliers from visitors. I miss those days.

Bill still looked fit and handsome as always, favoring our dad. But he had mom's eyes and blond hair. His face was dad's through and through. At the time, he was still in the navy but not in uniform.

Most of our conversation was about our jobs and what we had done last year. But Bill seemed as if he wanted to talk about something else. We had never discussed his coming out, so I correctly guessed it would be that, although it came in a roundabout way.

"I had a talk with Marisol," Bill surprised me.

"What about?" I asked pensively.

"She is worried about you. She said you are unhappy. Is that true?"

I hesitated briefly.

"How much did she tell you?"

"Just that. But I am not dense, Paula. I knew who and what you used to be before Paul. You must really love him to have given up that lifestyle."

My brother knew the gist of my libertine sex life back in my senior year of high school. He must have assumed I had continued in college before I met Paul.

"I did."

"Did?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "As in past tense?"

"I mean, I fell in love with Paul. Everything was so easy then. Simple, I mean. I was in love and thought the world of him."

"I know that feeling," Bill replied. "I was in love with someone that way. Still am, I think, but the person I fell in love with is not him anymore, which is why we went our separate ways."

My brother was talking to me, but his eyes seemed miles away.

"A man?" I asked pensively.

"Yes," he replied. "My first."

"I see."

"It's who I am, Paula," my brother stated matter of factly. "Is that a problem?"

"No, Bill," I replied, reaching for his hand with a slight smile. "You have to be who you are. I want you happy."

"Which leads us to you."

"What about me?"

He gazed back at me for a few seconds as if thinking what to say -- deciding what he should say, more accurately.

"Paula, I need to tell you about me," Bill leaned in. "I tried to do the straight thing by dating girls and even going to bed with them. I really did. I find some women attractive, so you could say I'm kind of bi. But I only have emotional relationships with men. Once I came to terms with what and who I am, I stopped denying it and fooling myself."

He sighed and continued.

"The thing is, Paula. We only have one life, and it's short. Do you remember Mr. Florez, the English teacher?"

Marisol had used the exact phrase of only one life.

"Oh God yes. He was a taskmaster. So strict. His was the only class I was challenged in."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah, he knew I was smart and gave me all this extra homework to do. Books to read no one else had to."

"He was a good man."

"The best-dressed teacher in our school."

Bill smirked.

"He is gay you know."

"Seriously?" I asked, sincerely surprised as Mr. Florez never exhibited any signs he was not straight that I could remember. If anything, I found him handsome and quite studly.

"He is very discreet," Bill said.

"Did you and he... do anything?"

"NO!" Bill recoiled. "Mr. Florez was nothing but a gentleman. Did you know he was a Marine who served during Vietnam? I was surprised myself. Anyway, he figured out that I was gay."

"How did he know?"

"Intuition, I guess? We call it gaydar in our community. Maybe he caught me staring at some guy or something. I am more discreet these days."

"I would not have known Bill," I replied. "And I'm pretty smart."

"So am I dear sis. So am I. But where were we? Oh yes, Mr. Florez. So he figured me out and talked with me about it. And that was what he told me 'Once you know who you are, live life your way. There is nothing worse than regrets and a life wasted.'

"He also told me that the war changed him and taught him how precious life is. After seeing men die around him, he decided that he would not waste his life if he survived. So he became an English teacher and stopped hiding his orientation... from himself."

"Himself?"

"Yes, Paula. One has to admit to themselves what and who they are. Mr. Florez did in the jungles of Vietnam. But he kept it to himself for two reasons. One was that homosexuality was not acceptable in those days. Especially not in the services. It still isn't in many places. Especially as a teacher around kids."

"True. I mean, remember that woman gym teacher at the high school next town over? She was converting young girls to her ways and molesting them."

"I see your point, and so did Mr. Florez. In fact, he brought that gym teacher up to me in the conversation as an example of how not to be gay in our society. You know, that going after kids was but the act of a pedophile. And that made other gay people look harmful to the straights. Mr. Florez separated work from his sexuality and society because he thought that is how it should be."

"I see," I replied.

"Anyway, I followed his advice and kept my sexuality to myself. You and a few others know I'm gay, but I don't advertise it in the Navy. It's none of anyone's business what I do on my own time. I'm quite happy with the Navy don't ask, don't tell policy."

"You don't want to be all out? For the world to accept you?"

"Paula, fuck the world and what they think," Bill smirked. "They think one way today and another tomorrow. Today standing up for gay people is hip in society. But tomorrow, the WORLD will find another pet group and ditch us like a hot potato.

"Look how the media and politicians were all over caring for minorities and women. Oh, they still like you when they can use you to their end. But step out of line as a minority or a woman, and you are on the other side.

"Remember that incident when a black lady and a Hispanic guy got in that road rage accident and fight? In the press reports, the guy instantly and miraculously became white. Even his Hispanic congressman tossed him under the bus on a TV interview.

"So no, I don't want to be Bill, the gay Navy guy. I just want to be me and do my job. To be judged by my performance. I'll let others do politics."

He had a point. I knew that some in his community would disagree, but Bill was his own man. And I loved him for it.

"It must not be easy," I snickered. "With all those men there. The temptation?"

"Paula, I'm underwater in a submarine for two months at a time. Once, it was almost three. Yes, it's nothing but men, but also a lot of work to occupy the mind. I love the navy too much to ruin my career by playing with a guy on duty. But inside, I know who and what I am. Strength comes from knowing your core and not letting others define you. You know why Paula?"

I had an idea, but I shook my head negatively just to hear what Bill had to say.

"Because what I am is none of their fucken business."

We laughed at that. But as we did, it was Bill's turn to reach for my hand and squeeze gently.

"Paula, your life is short as well. You're almost thirty, right?"

"Yes," I replied. "And starting to feel it."

"And your marriage?" he asked.

"What about it?"

"Paul is a nice guy," he replied. "I like him. But he is boring as hell. How do you manage?"

"We have young kids, Bill. Kids that need us both in their life. There is no abuse or dangerous environment in our home. So I won't break up our family as mom and dad did."

"Admirable," my brother replied. "Still, are you happy?"

"I wish Paul was different. I wish he would be like Garry back home or even Dad. But he is not. I've tried to...."

"Change him?" Bill finished my sentence with a slight smirk.

"Yeah."

Bill laughed.

"What's this thing with you women thinking you can change a man into something he is not?"

"Oh shut up," I said with a smile, as I knew he was right. "Come on Bill. What kind of man gets married to a woman who looks like me, willing to share him with other women and passes on it?"

"Not Paul, obviously," my brother replied. "Let's face it Paula. Paul has come to terms with who he is. If you haven't brought him around by now, you never will. It's you that needs to come to terms with who you are."

I nodded, knowing it was true.

"You are right," I replied. "And we only get one life. A life that is too short to waste."

He nodded and smiled.

***

'Yes, life is too short, and you only have one to live,' I said to myself on the drive home.

The question was how to live it. But before I did that, I had to make some decisions that all came to who I was inside. As my darling brother had said, I needed to find who I was and not care what others thought of me or how I lived.

So. Decision number one. No divorce unless Paul asked for one. At home, I would be the mom the kids needed. And if I gave Paul the wife and family life he wished for, he would not have a reason to leave.

Divorce. The concept loomed over me like a dark cloud. As dissatisfied as I was with my husband, the thought of us splitting up hurt me to the core. Paul and his ways were in the way of my living a life I once cherished. Yet the thought of losing him... leaving him, or having him leave me was a deep ache that I was not willing to endure.

Here we were, years later, and I still could not figure out the hold this man had over me? Were we destined to disappoint each other in our lifetime? Was this some kind of punishment for transgressions of some previous life? Why, even after all the pain and heartache, did I feel safe and comfortable in his arms at night?

The truth was that I had felt this way since Paul and I met. Back when all we thought of was our love accented with bouts of sex that were different than any I ever had before. The truth was that Paul was the only man I had ever made love to -- the only man I ever WANTED to make love to.

Yet, there was a need deep inside that had nothing to do with love or Paul or safety and comfort. A part of me missing, buried, denied in the last years of my life since Paul and I married. And it called to me often. More so with the passing of time.

Those times I taunted Paul to gain a reaction from him made me realize how I missed the touch of men. Other men. Their touch had inadvertently awakened the monster I thought I had buried in a box somewhere safe in the recesses of my soul.

Then I shook my head at the monster analogy. Oh, how I had let conventional thinking and morality permeate my life since I married! The connotation implied guilt and... wrongness, which I found false and stifling based on a moral code I never believed in.

Marisol was correct. When I used to think of my future instead of letting emotions rule me, my original assessment was that I wanted a lifestyle and marriage as she had with Garry. The kind of marriage my parents had evolved theirs into. A marriage of understanding that a partner's needs often spanned across the monogamy construct.

Because those needs had nothing to do with love, and catering to them openly and honestly eliminated the lying and betrayal that came with cheating. But most of all, the concept of exclusivity was an illusion born from the conventional, selfish notion of possessiveness. Conventionals wrapped the mere perception of personal ownership of another in monogamy by what they called love.

In their world, everything was binary. Yes -- No. Black -- white. A spouse was either chaste and pure or tainted and tagged with the scarlet letter of the cheater. Even a consensual open marriage was considered cheating, wrong, and immoral to most conventionals. At best, some of them would accept that people like Marisol, Garry, Mom and Dad had the right to their lifestyle. Yet they still looked down at people like them. People like me.

With each passing day, I grew to detest the monogamous cage I had placed myself in with Paul. Bill was right. I had fallen into the trap many women do when marrying a man and thinking they could change him in time. Paul was conventional through and through. Like most of them, he had been raised to believe that love and marriage meant ownership of their spouse. Nothing less.

I no longer wanted to live like that.

***

Bill and Marisol had not advised me to step out of my marriage vows. Nor did my mother and father when I eventually reached out to them for advice. If anything, both my parents had warned me of the pitfalls of cheating, how I could end up losing all I had if I went down that road and got caught. And I knew how Marisol detested the notion.

Bill's idea of being true to myself included divorce as a step to any such fulfillment I saught. My brother could not understand the forces at play in my complex life, not having children of his own. And neither could Marisol for the same reason.

Garry, on the other hand, along with my parents, did understand. When I needed their counsel, I had called them to share my angst and ask for their advice.

"Paula, while I wish you and Paul could come to this decision together, as Marisol and I did, I am not in your shoes. I have a child I have never seen, and the pain of not having my offspring in my life eats away at me each day. Whatever you decide, I hope you think it all through. Then think of it again before you act."

I envied Marisol for being loved by a good man like Garry. The same as I envied mom for having my father in her life. Theirs had been an arduous road to their eventual happiness and reconciliation. One marked by the harshness of their divorce. And all the pain of separation, guilt, and remorse that came with it.

"Sweetheart," Dad had said after listening to me. "I can't express how sad I am that my girl is going through the same trial as your mother and I went through. I had so hoped that you would be spared that. Yet here you are, and you have to make some tough choices.

"If I could wave a magic wand, I would have you and Paul discuss it with your mom and me to understand that our lifestyle is not the evil society thinks it is. Through honesty and love, a couple can lift the stifling restrictions they place on each other and be happy knowing they always come back together.

"Exclusivity and, yes, ownership of one's spouse are but illusions. Look how many divorces we have in life. Look how your mother and I broke up our family because we thought it was either all in or all out. Maybe that works for some. But looking at how half the marriages end in divorce, we know that is not true.

"And of those marriages that stay together, many spouses in them know that they are not happy. Many of them wished there was another way, but their upbringing and the stigma society places on people like your mother and I keep them in line and ultimately unhappy.

"I wish I could give you the ultimate advice, Paula. But all I can do is tell you that whatever you do, I will love you just the same."

Mom's advice was different, but no less from the heart.

"Paula, I am your mother, not Paul's. So I care about you and my grandbabies more so than him. You fell in love with him and chose him to be the father of your children. That is an irreversible fact no matter what you do. Whatever happens between you and him, at this point, it will be your children that will suffer through no fault of their own.

"If they were adults, they would be prepared to understand that you and their father are incompatible and want to go your own way. But they are not, and they deserve the first consideration here. So think of them and their needs first. Don't do what your father and I did by divorcing. And I mean think. Let's face it. You were not reasoning when you fell in love with Paul and picked him to be their father.

"If you had, you would have seen that Paul is not like Garry and your dad. He is a good father and would have made a good husband for some insecure woman out there. You know the kind. How I used to be when I thought I could control your father by how much sex I let him have as a reward for things he did for me?

"It took a lot of therapy for me to realize that I was jealous at the notion of your dad stepping out on me. Yet I was withholding sex from him. Talk about breaking a vow, Paula!

"I promised to love and be your dad's one and only. To give him the love in bed he deserved. Yet I turned into this selfish and possessive bitch that... drove him to the arms of another woman. By cutting him off, I practically told your father to go elsewhere."

I listened to Mother clear her conscience and share her failings out of love and curiosity as I sought answers.

"In a way, Paul is doing to you what I did to your father. Oh, yes, he is not denying you love, but his concept of love is not yours. And that is why you are unhappy. Something is missing in your life that your husband, any husband for that matter, can not give his wife. Just as no wife can ever give her husband, other than the freedom to experience it and the trust their spouse will return.

"Your situation is kind of like mine when you and Bill were around the age of your children. I, and your father, were both unhappy. Yet we never talked about it. That lack of communication drove us to divorce and all that came with it. It truly is a miracle that your father and I got back together again. I thank God each day I have him these days.

"I know you love Paul. Losing him will be like losing a part of you. And he is a part of you as you and he made children together. His blood runs through your babies' veins. It's his face you see in theirs. I understand all too well.

"But it is your life ultimately and your decision. Paul obviously has made his. All I will tell you is to be careful in what you do."

***

Yet, the stark reality was that I still loved Paul. But I was no longer in love with him. At times I did not even have respect for him. Not the way he had given up his dream for a mundane secure job. Not how he kept himself closed off. And not how he refused to stand up and be a man even after seeing me touched by others.

The swinger massacre and Paul's reaction to it told me that my husband would never agree to any opening up of our marriage. I would have been content with some even couple swapping or going to the nude beach to show off. But Paul was not that kind of guy.