“Committed to Love ”
CHAPTER 1  

ISSUE: MY COMMITMENT TO THE MARRIAGE
1969-1970

 STORY: OUR HONEYMOON IN SPAIN
JEFF TELLS ME HE’S BISEXUAL

Dear Jeff:

I can’t believe it’s May 1999. Another warm spring evening is drawing to a close. The sun is setting and a blazing crimson sky is appearing before my eyes. How many times have I watched this magnificent spectacle from our balcony? You always commented that sundown was my favorite part of the day. I remember you laughing as I told you how every sunset was the most beautiful one of all. You’d say, “Bee, I think this is the only time you’re at peace with yourself.” Jeff, where did the past 5 years go? I can still see your body being taken from our home on August 17 th, 1994 . I remember how you suffered during those two horrible years. It took me a long time to come to terms with your death, but I think you’d be proud of me. My broken heart has finally mended and though my new life still feels strange and awkward at times, I’ve moved on. Now, I only see your beautiful face and hear your soft sweet voice echoing in my ears. I said “goodbye my love” on that day with the words on my lips, but not with my heart. I’ll always cherish the memories of our 25 years together.

Jeff, tonight’s sunset has me agitated and restless. I feel like electricity is surging through my body. My heart is racing and my hands are tingling. The sky looks like it’s painted with blood. What’s happening to me? Why am I so afraid? I closed my eyes to shut out the sky, but I continued to see the blood. It was slowly oozing down the mortally wounded animal’s side. He was dying in front of me. I opened my eyes and I was in Malaga , Spain at a bullfight. It was April 1969. We were sitting in a stadium with a frenzied crowd cheering around us expressing their delight in the matador’s victory. The brilliantly costumed bullfighter had challenged the beast and won. We stared amazed and overwhelmed at the performance we had just witnessed. Only the fans knew what would happen next.

I heard you laugh but was oblivious to my fate. You were laughing because you saw the matador look our way. You shrieked, "Bee, watch out!" You always called me Bee when you wanted to get my attention. Suddenly, I felt something warm and wet graze the left side of my face. It was rough and scratchy as it brushed against my cheek. The matador had cut the dead bull's ear off and thrown it into the crowd. I told you that day I wanted a souvenir, but a bloody hairy bull’s ear was not what I had expected. That was just the beginning of my many unexpected surprises wasn’t it Jeff? 24 hours earlier from our hotel balcony in Malaga , you confessed to your bride of four months your darkest secret. Nothing could’ve prepared me for what you told me that day. During one terrible argument you’d put our already shaky marriage on the line and change the next 25 years of our life.

I called you “Christopher Columbus” because you loved to travel. In high school, you’d go to Florida for Christmas vacation or spring break. In college, you’d go skiing in Colorado or sunning in Puerto Rico . When you’d tell me of your adventurous plans, your enthusiasm would make me want to run away with you. After we got married, you wanted to take me somewhere exotic for our honeymoon. Between your teaching position in Albany and my job as a dental hygienist at the Veterans Administration Hospital , we were doing well for a couple of young kids. You joined the Jewish Teacher’s Association of America because you wanted to travel. Every city in the world appealed to you and we could afford to go anywhere. Their prices were so inexpensive. After 6 weeks of intense deliberation, you finally chose The Costa del Sol of Spain . Our two weeks cost us $198.00. Remember the night your parents told us that their friends, including your “godparents,” were taking the same trip? Oh how we laughed every time we thought about 4 other couples “chaperoning” us around Spain ? They didn’t know the circumstances concerning our “quickie” marriage. How did we keep the pregnancy and my miscarriage a secret? To them, we were newlyweds going on our dream honeymoon to the Mediterranean .

We flew from New York to Madrid . I remember the ride to our hotel in Torremolinos was spectacular. Our room overlooked the turquoise and blue Mediterranean water and the hotel grounds were picturesque. It was the most beautiful place I’d ever seen. We spent the first few days enjoying deliciously unfamiliar foods in fascinating local restaurants. We made love everywhere. I was sexually attracted to you from the moment we met. I loved kissing and holding you. Running my fingers through your thick, dark, hair excited me. I told everyone I was in love with the fifth Beetle. Your white sparkling teeth and beautiful smile captured my heart. Your body was naturally muscular and perfectly proportioned. You had the gracefulness of a dancer and the handsome good looks of a movie star. To me you were the most exciting man in the world.

We went shopping for days. You wanted to buy paintings while I purchased a dozen pair of shoes. We weren’t sure how much "stuff" we could take back to Albany and cram into a studio apartment. And “the troops” were constantly with us. They kept a safe distance and gave us our space, but we ate dinner together, attended the shows, and took the tours. We were 2 kids running wild in a foreign country and it was absolutely wonderful. We were beginning to think that our "rocky start" was finally over.

We spent the second week in Malaga . Our new hotel room was more beautiful than the one before. But, you’d changed during the trip. You became distant and I was uncomfortable around you. There was an underlying current that something wasn’t right between us. From the beginning of our marriage, this feeling went beyond our hasty wedding, my pregnancy, and the miscarriage. We were lying together in a hammock on the balcony watching the sunset. We were only inches apart, but I felt alone and uneasy. I can’t remember how the quarrel started but things quickly got out of hand. You hated to argue. You were soft-spoken, even-tempered, and sensitive. When you did yell, I’d laugh because you’d start to cough and your throat would get sore. I was the fighter, easily frustrated, violently angry, and viciously cruel. I lashed out at you shouting, “I know you only married me because I was pregnant.” You screamed back, “I don’t think I can really love anyone?” I said, “Jeff, why are you so guarded, spoiled, and selfish? One minute you tell me you love me and want our marriage to work and then you say you don’t. What keeps you so far away from me? Who are you Jeff?”

I was relentless, pushing you more and more. Finally you said, "I think I'm gay. I've had men in my life sexually. I don’t know what I am!" I froze. My tears turned to ice. What had I heard? "What do you mean you think your gay?" "You’re so handsome, so perfect, and you’ve always dated beautiful girls in high school and college. I’ve never seen you without a girlfriend. I’d get jealous when I saw you with someone else. What do you mean?" You couldn’t control your tears. You cried. Oh! How hard you cried. My heart was in my throat. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. This nightmare couldn’t be happening. We stared at each other like two total strangers in disbelief.

I finally said, "First I get pregnant. Then we get married. I loose our baby on your birthday, and just when I think we might make this marriage work, you tell me you think you’re gay." You said, "I've had 2 encounters with young men and I don't know what I am! I always dated and had sex with girls but I’ve also had men." I asked you the same questions over and over again, "Are you a bisexual?" "Are you a homosexual?" "Do you want a divorce?" "What do we tell our parents?" "Is it because you were adopted?" "Is it because you think you weren’t loved at birth by your biological parents?" I continued to ask you questions you didn’t have any answers for.

We went through hours of hell and we were exhausted. The last thing I remember was falling asleep in your arms. As the sun came up in this storybook setting, a new day was before us. We woke up drained from the previous night's events. My eyes were swollen and half-closed, but as I looked over at you, I loved you. I wanted everything to go away. This was a bad dream and last night didn’t happen. You were my perfect man lying next to me. I couldn’t have this in my life. I wouldn’t accept it. I convinced myself I could make you happy. Love conquers all. You thought you could change and maybe you really weren’t gay. We were so naïve, but perhaps our inexperience and youth worked to our advantage. We were more afraid to be without each other than to stay together. Were the things we had in common enough to give this marriage and our friendship another try?

By 11:00 A.M. , we had pulled ourselves together and met up with the group. By 1:00 P.M. , we were enjoying the bullfight and had put the horror of the past night behind us. No one ever suspected a thing. We wanted to make it work. We always tried to give our marriage another chance. We cared about each other. That was the foundation for our entire relationship. You didn’t change and my love didn’t conquer all. But, you loved me in your own special way.

Though the evening air is warm, I’m so cold. The blood red sky has disappeared and the darkness surrounds me. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about Spain . Now, I want to take my memories and hide from them. I need to get away from the emptiness I feel. I’ll crawl into bed and pull the covers tightly around my body. The last thing I remember seeing before I drifted off to sleep was the matador and the bull. The skilled matador had won his battle this time. My darling Jeff, the beast you fought was AIDS and you didn’t win your fight. Good Night, My Darling.


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