Relationships, part 21

This post is probably going to be all over the place, so bear with me and follow along if you can.

If you had told me back in January that the goofy, tall, handsome guy that was running one of the machines in my department was going to be one of the most important people in my life, I’d have called you a liar. He was a new hire, and at first I didn’t think much of him (I never think much of any of them until they’re hired on full time) beyond his dashing good looks and strange personality.

Then one day, early in the year he surprised me. Twice.

Once was early in the morning when he ended up coming in late. He, of course, got a write up and when he came back to his work station he just glared at me with a look of fear on his face. Then it happened. He darted over to where I was standing and just hugged me, tight. Visibly shaken I stood there and let it happen and thought to myself ‘like…this guy is straight, right?’ We talked for a few minutes, I calmed him down and we went back to work. He’s younger than me, so I just assumed, incorrectly, he wasn’t used to this kind of treatment.

The next surprise was not long after that. I was working on shit that the night shift had left behind when he appeared and said to me “Guess what?” “What?” I asked not really looking at him since I was trying to focus to counting. “My wife is out of town all week so I’m going to annoy the shit out of you since she’s gone.” I give him this look somewhere between ‘what the fuck’ and ‘hell no’ and he just laughed and we stood and talked more. Turns out she was gone to the beach with friends and their kid was staying with relatives. I knew then that this was either going to be a week from hell, or it was going to be something special. I mean, was it so wrong to make a new friend that’s also a coworker? I usually didn’t do such a thing considering the high turn over rate of my workplace, but as has been the case for me lately, I figured it’s not going to kill me to take a risk and change the routine a little. Turns out that this week in particular was a trial. He’s the kind of guy that likes to antagonize and pick while you’re busy and being that I’m rarely in the mood for such shit while I’m working, I started picking back by slapping him on his ass. The first time I did it he was stunned but took it in stride. I think he quickly learned I was not to be trifled with and I meant business. This, I think, was also when I came out to him. I’ve started hitting people with that one early as I get older because I just don’t have time to get invested in someone only to be either shunned or find out that they’re a real piece of shit underneath. The ass slaps and occasional barks at him to “shut up and get naked” when he was irritating me escalated but I feel like, on some level, he liked being treated that way (and if he doesn’t he needs to say so and I’ll stop).

We grew closer and closer as the months passed. When he found out that I walked to and from work (I live close by so it’s no big deal) he started picking me up. Those ridiculously early summer mornings, I’d be sitting here having a cup of coffee and deleting all the emails from the night before all while keeping an ear out for the rumblings of his Jeep engine out front in the still, quiet morning. When I eventually broke it to him that my parents had died when I was 18, he hugged me very tight and started rambling; inviting me to Christmas and Thanksgiving at his place, which I promptly declined but thanked him for the offers anyway. The holidays just never mean much to me anymore.

Then came the next surprise when he tells me “My wife wants to meet you.” Every single klaxon in my head started going off almost like I was on board the Enterprise right before it fucking explodes. I mean, it’s one thing to flirt with a male coworker, but to make such an impression that he tells his wife about you is a whole level of terror I didn’t think I’d ever experience. Every time he brought it up I could feel the blood drain away from my face and my mouth become as dry as a desert. ‘She’s gonna be so mad at you, she’s gonna call you a homewrecker, she’s gonna punch you right in the face’ are among the multiple scenarios that ran through my mind after he told me that she wanted to meet me. I reluctantly agreed to meet her but kept doing whatever it took to keep it from happening.

Oh, and all the while that the summer months were going on, the horseplay kept going and led to a lot more hugging. At first it made me a little uncomfortable, but eventually I grew to want it more and more. Back at the beginning of the year when I would give him his breaks, I’d hold his jacket while he went to smoke so I could feel his warmth and smell his cologne. The hugging eventually escalated to the point that one of us started kissing the other - but on the cheek mind you. We, well I, wasn’t about to kiss anyone on the mouth during a pandemic.

Then there was another surprise, and this one definitely caught me off guard and I still hate myself for it. He eventually got moved from where he was to take over for someone that was out for two weeks on another line. I didn’t think much of it, but those two weeks were the worst. I started to really miss him to the point that I couldn’t focus. Good job dumbass, you caught feelings for a straight guy was what I kept beating myself up with while he was gone. One of the days that he was on the other line, he caught sight of me as I was leaving and made a finger gun pointed at his temple and said to me in a tone that I won’t forget “Please! Please!” with a look of desperation in his eyes. It made me think of my old slave, Patrick, and awakened that part of my conscious. I took some small, sick pleasure in his misery, smiled evilly at him and walked out the door. Once the two weeks was up, he was back on my shift and that’s when the gravity of the situation really set in.

The following morning when he picked me up for work, he freaked out about how much he missed me so I rubbed the top of his fuzzy head and said to him “Awww, did you miss your daddy?” to which he replied “Yes! You’re MY Ben. My Ben, damnit.” Not gonna lie, that hit hard. He went on a tirade about how much he missed having me around. It made me feel pretty special, but I didn’t really think I was treating him any differently than I did others. I took note of that and continued to observe him closely. Then after a few weeks, I hit him with a thought. “I’ve noticed something about you” I said as we were about to be done for the day. “What’s that?” he asked as we were trying to scramble to finish things up before going home. “I feel like that you haven’t been shown a lot of kindness or compassion your whole life.” You’d think I smacked him with a baseball bat. He stared at me quizzically for a couple of minutes and nodded “Yeah.” I knew then that I needed to be gentle with him. He had, early on, revealed that he was a former Marine, so I just guessed that his behavior stemmed from his time while serving.

The next surprise came when I was on vacation from work and he wasn’t. Laying here, on the couch on my first day off, I had woken up early thanks to my internal alarm clock being a bitch and was trying to go back to sleep. I get a text message and it’s from him. “What are you making me for lunch?” I stared at my phone for a good few minutes thinking to myself ‘is he fucking for real?’ We got into a little spat about that and he reluctantly realized that I wasn’t going to do anything about lunch because I was going to bed. We had been eating lunch together every day for quite a while at that point so in retrospect I maybe should have seen this coming.

The next surprise (this relationship and surprises, let me tell ya) came when he was on vacation and I was working. We hadn’t really texted each other in a few days because I didn’t want to bother him while he was off. Then out of the blue when he was due to be back at work in a couple days he says to me “I fucking miss you. I’ve really needed you the past few days.” I was gutted when I read that and started to get angry and cry. “Well if you fucking needed me why didn’t you text me or come over?” “I didn’t want to bother you since you were working and I wasn’t.” The next time I saw him I gave him a long hug and then I looked him in the eye. “You’re my boy. If you need me, you call me, or text me, or come over. I don’t care if I’m working and you’re off or vice versa. Ok?” He nodded silently with a frown on his face and we just hugged silently for a very long time. “I fucking mean that.”

Are you tired of reading this shit yet? Well hang on, it’s about to get wild.

So, over the months after he got somewhat comfortable with me, he started asking to borrow money. Small sums at first and always paid back, but then the sums got a little large so instead of asking him to pay it back to me (he kinda sucks at money management) I asked if he minded taking me to IKEA so I could pick up a few things and he said sure. I’d been in the process of organizing and throwing things out because what else am I going to do during a pandemic? I ended up giving him and his wife a bunch of stuff that I had no use for anymore and couldn’t donate it to anywhere because most Goodwill and Hospice type places were shut down indefinitely (at least in my area). I figured (well, secretly hoped) that it would just be the two of us on this trip but his wife wanted to come and they wanted to bring their kid too. I agreed to whatever as long I could get my dumb TV stands and bookcase.

Trying to get this trip set up was a total nightmare.

I woke up at the time he told me to be awake and got ready and then…nothing. I texted him several times, knowing full well that he had worked the night before so after a big blow up text where I told him “I’ll never bother you again” he finally responded and told me that they (he and the wife) were on their way to get me. This was several hours after the time he told me to be ready. The three of them finally arrived and I got in the car in the back seat next to the little one. This was the first time I had met his wife face to face. Actually second, now that I think about it. The first time I saw her was one night earlier in the week, he got her to bring him to my house so he could pick up something I had made for him for dinner. That moment was a bit cringeworthy for me that he made her do that. It was cold out so I just waved at her from my porch as he walked back to the car. This time around I was seated right behind her. Shit I thought to myself. It kind of felt like I’d been busted or something, coming face to face with her. She was super nice though, very laid back. So this car ride was interesting to say the least.

I’d had suspicions a few days before when I got in his Jeep and saw a small red bracelet on his arm that clearly spelled out ‘T-R-U-M-P’ but the conversation we had on the way to IKEA confirmed it. His wife put me on the spot when she said “I think you might be outnumbered in this car” to him while they were talking politics. There was a very pregnant pause after which I finally, reluctantly spoke “Yeah I voted for Biden, but I hate talking about this shit because it always leads to fighting.” Turns out this time around he still supported the big orange, but he didn’t vote for him like he did back in 2016. This time around he didn’t vote at all. Well good job dumbass, I thought, you’re in love with a straight guy that supports Trump. At this point in my life, I’m just tired of all of this and could go on a long tirade about it all, but I’m not. On with the story.

At one point during the drive, while they’re still bickering about politics, she says to him “Are you gonna act like that on your one day off with your family and Ben? Well, your family and your husband?” If it was possible for a human to lay an egg I could have laid a dozen at that instant. My eyes went wide and my throat became the Sahara. Fuck! Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck! In an effort to try to diffuse the situation I interjected “More like his therapist” and nervously laughed. “I just try to keep him calm when we’re at work.” “I appreciate that very much” she giggled. Holy gods damned shitballs what has he been telling her?! I mean, yeah, he’s a hot piece and I’m pretty envious of her an all that but I’m not a home wrecker. I could feel the bile rising inside, like I was about to vomit hot lava all over the car. I wanted to puke and pass out and die.

After the long trek to IKEA, I get out of the car to stretch my legs and wait while they get the kid ready to go in the store. After a few minutes of him being bent over in the passenger side door and fumbling around, I walked over to see what the hold up was and that’s when I busted them both red handed. He had told her to come back around to the driver’s side and she did. I’m watching and what do I see? I see her snort something up her nose and then looked up and right at me. Remember those klaxons from before? This time around again, but twice as loud. I was calm and collected on the outside but on the inside I’m in full on panic mode. What the fuck did I just catch them do?! I thought to myself. Am I gonna have to plan an escape route? Call someone to come get me? I’ll just be cool and maybe I’ll get out of this in one piece. The whole way through the store I was thinking to myself about how I was going to rip him a new asshole for this. Then I decided I wasn’t, then I decided I was. Back and forth the whole time. What the hell was I going to do? Once we had gone through the whole store and I got what I wanted, we packed it in the back of their vehicle and headed home.

On the way, we stopped to get something from the McDonald’s drive thru because we were all starving. They of course got the order wrong at which point he flipped out and stormed into the restaurant to fix it. “Is he like this at home?” I took the opportunity to ask his wife while he was out of the car. “Yeah. We can’t go out to eat anywhere.” “Good to know it’s not just me then” I said, sitting while the little one continuously demanded nuggets in an ever increasing volume and angry tone. He came back to the car with the correct order and we all sat and ate in silence. The ever looming conversation he and I were going to have kept nagging at me all the way home as I said in the back seat in the dark next to their cranky child. That’s when it happened again.

Pretending to be occupied by my phone, I watched him root around in the dark for something in the center console. Not sure of what he’s doing I go back to my phone, then after a few minutes I notice that he’s bent over in the passenger seat for a very long time. Then, sits back up straight and casually slips a credit card into the card holder in the visor. He just fucking did it again, I thought to myself. And with their kid in the car. My anxiety was in overdrive at this point. I thought for sure that whatever we had was about to explode and be over with in an instant. I imagined the whole fight down to my nervous breakdown and subsequent suicide. I turned off my phone and just stared out the window the rest of the way home.

Once we got here, I thanked his wife for driving me there and back again and got out as quickly as I could. He helped me carry everything inside and then jokingly told his kid he was staying here and waved at her. Earlier in the day it was sweet watching him interact with her on the way to IKEA. It made me actually want to get married and adopt a kid of my own…for about 20 minutes. Fuck that shit I’ll just spoil someone else’s kid and take on the role of gay uncle. After helping me carry everything inside, he gave me a hug and got in the car and they left. It felt like I lost weight when they were gone. The tension just melted away, but then as I spent the rest of the evening trying to unwind and building my BRIMNES (Brimneses? Brimnesi? I bought two of the damn things to make one super long entertainment center) but the thought lingered of how I was going to approach the situation. Full on angry, screaming Karen? Nah, he’d just resent me if I did that. Possibly shut me out or just go deep into isolation. Angry/disappointed father figure? Nah, that wouldn’t work either since he and his father aren’t on the best of terms. I didn’t know how I was going to handle it and time was running out.

The next day he picks me up for work. I had hardly slept and my stomach was a knot. This was going to suck. After we got to work and got settled, there were only 6 of us there that day and at one point I seized the opportunity since we were alone. “Hey, come here a minute” I said, voice shaking and tears already welling up. I was beginning to break even before I got the words out. He looked at me confused. I took both his hands in mine and went for it. “You know I love you, right?” “Yeah…?” He’s thoroughly confused but going along with it. “And I wouldn’t say any of this if I didn’t care.” “OK…?” I took a deep breath and just said it. “How long have you two been using cocaine?” “What?!” “I saw you both last night at IKEA…” I trailed off but rebounded quickly “What were you two doing?” Confusion on his face turned quickly to understanding. He gave both my hands and firm squeeze and looked me right in the eye. “I promise that’s not what was going on. I promise. I promise". He kept squeezing my hands and promising me as the tears just flowed out. I couldn’t hold it in any more. He let go of my hands and held me instead. I quickly got my shit together then asked him what was going on.

It was pain pills. Being that he’s a veteran it made sense. He’s another name on a long list of veterans that I’ve met that are in constant physical pain from their time serving in the military. He revealed that the VA used to have him on all sorts of opioids and he got tired to taking that stuff and told them to shove it. He lit up a joint in front of them and was promptly escorted out and stripped of his benefits. I was immediately relieved that it wasn’t coke but equally disgusted at the way our country treats its veterans. I knew at that instant I had to do whatever it took to keep this man from destroying himself, though with how frequently he jokes about killing himself I took up that cause many months prior. This moment just reinforced the idea. We got even closer that day, I feel. He definitely got a lot more comfortable around me. So much so that he admitted to me that some of the money he borrowed from me was for pills and not what he said it was for. I appreciated his honesty and told him I still loved him anyway. A couple days after what I was afraid was going to be the end, he got comfortable enough with me that he let me sit in the Jeep with him while he snorted one before we went in to work.

I don’t know if my act of kindness sparked something in him, or if he was just relieved to have someone in his corner for once, but earlier this week he told me that after I busted him he quit using the pills. That day I watched him snort was the last one. I told him I was proud of him and hugged him so hard that day. I could see it on his face that he was in pain and it killed me to see him like that, but I was glad he stopped using.

The week leading up the IKEA trip, I was off work and he wasn’t, so I made dinner for us every night. One of those nights, the worst thing happened. When he came to get dinner he told me that he was being moved to third shift in two weeks for an indefinite period of time. I was, and still am, gutted. That’s what made the IKEA trip so special and the talk where we held hands. It was one of the last times that we would be together.

Last week, and this week leading to Thanksgiving, we’ve been apart. I don’t know how he’s handling it since I only get to see him for a few minutes each night (I’m still making him dinner) but I’m hating every single minute of every work day. When he comes to get his dinner, the hugs have been longer and stronger than before and the kisses more frequent. I’ve been pretty cold to his replacement and more or less just shut down when I’m at work. All those metaphors about the light fading away or the colors draining from the world all apply to me right now.

There’s been a few times in the last few months where he’s made comments (and so have I to a degree, but only after he made the first one) about us moving away somewhere together. The latest was “you and me and the kid going to Alaska.” “Good god why Alaska?” He shrugged. We’ve both also made comments along the lines of “find another job somewhere else and take me with you” or “if you get fired I’m quitting and going with you.” I know, dear reader, that this is all so saccharine and adorable and whatnot to you, but how am I supposed to handle this? Have I inadvertently destroyed their marriage just because I give a damn about what happens to him and I’ve shown him kindness for about a year? Have I become what I swore I wasn’t? I know that long before we because close, he did say that he wished he’d never gotten married. Have I somehow made him think he’d be better off with me than her? What have I done? At this point, I’m afraid that I’ve caused more harm than good. But I promised him I’d never do anything to hurt him and I’m not going to break that promise. I promise that I love you and I will until my dying day. But make no mistake, if I thought I could steal him for myself, I would.

Stay tuned…