A Tale of Woe

I spend the rest of the night sending selective texts - copying and pasting the same sad, shocking, humiliating message to groups of friends. The Girls Weekend Girls, the high school pals who met Scott when I did, my college roommate. They are all so sweet. They are all shocked. They are all baffled at how it has all unfolded. They all want to kill Scott.

I feel the need to reach out to Scott's girls. And the kid next door who is always at the dinner table. And the older daughter's boyfriend.

I message them together on Facebook. I tell them I am not sure what has happened but it is apparent that I will not have an opportunity to say a proper goodbye to them. I tell them that I've loved getting to know them and will miss watching them become the wonderful people they will surely become. I wish them all well and let them know they will always be in my heart. It is heartbreaking to write. I've lived so much of their lives with them for two years.

Each one writes back, some more than once. It is nice to know that they thought they'd never have to say goodbye. It is nice to read all of the nice things they have to say. It still feels awful.

By some act of God, but against all logic, I get up and go to work. I make the rounds to the curious and supportive girlfriends. They are all sweet. They are all shocked. They are all baffled at how it has all unfolded. They all want to kill Scott.

I get a text from Charlotte asking about Thanksgiving. Do I have plans with Scott?  Do we want to join them? 

Time to face the music.

I tell her in several painful texts what has been happening. She is rabid. She is also sweet. And shocked. And baffled. And wants to kill Scott.

She texts him. They exchange several texts back and forth. At least he answers her. I guess he's not afraid of her crying. Of the look on her face.

My friend James reaches out. Everyone needs a supportive gay man when they are down on their luck. He invites me out for a drink later. It is the last thing I feel like doing, but I know I can not form a habit of laying down and dying. I need to survive this. It will try to kill me but I have to force my heart to keep beating in spite of itself.

And then I get a message from Scott.

"I am so sorry. I guess I kept quiet about little things and they became big things. I hope someday we can be friends. I have always loved you and will never stop. xoxo"

It is all I can bear. I am about to break into a million pieces when my boss Don walks in trying to reschedule a meeting. I ask him to shut the door. I've known this man for years and owe him an explanation.

"Don, I am totally off my game - and I don't want you to think it has anything to do with all the turmoil in the office. It doesn't."

"Oh," he says. "I had not noticed that you were off your game. What's wrong?"

And I can feel myself cracking.