On the handful of occasions that Chuck tried to exhibit what I can only call sexual charity, he failed miserably. He could not maintain an erection long enough to have intercourse. Even if he could have intercourse, he only wanted to enter me from behind. He did not want to see my face. Sex, to him, was just that - it was sex with no intimacy. The most sex we ever had was me masturbating him. Yes, it was all about him. He was not in the least bit interested in giving me pleasure.
How I Caught Him
Chuck had been spending more and more time away from home. Come on, it doesn’t take five hours to buy a power cord at Radio Shack. One morning he went to extreme lengths to get himself all dolled up because he was “having a watch battery replaced.” He smelled like a whorehouse. As he was leaving, I asked him if he was seeing someone else. Of course, he denied it. He didn’t return until about seven hours later. He bought me a present. It was a huge, framed print of a portion of the Serenity Prayer:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.
He made a big production of how he had to spend all day hunting high and low for the perfect gift for me. I knew he was lying. This was a man who thought he splurged when he once bought me a $3.00 nozzle can of something resembling cheese.
I asked him why he bought the Serenity Prayer for me. He said it was because he wasn’t going to change, that he only wanted a brother-sister relationship with me, and that I needed to accept it.
All of a sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks. I said, “You’re gay like your brother, aren’t you?” He just smirked at me and said he was. He became belligerent and told me he didn’t care what I or anybody else thought of it. He went so far as to say he was proud of it. He claimed that I drove him further into homosexuality, that it was my fault. When I asked him if he was having sex with other men, he said he could not imagine being homosexual and not having sex. He then laughed at me for being so naïve.
Chuck left that night. He only took his personal papers. I have not seen him since.
The Truth Behind the Lies
When I asked Chuck why he called me in the first place, why he moved in with me and why all the deception, he told me that he thought I would be able to rehabilitate him into being straight, but I had failed. Chuck had, unbeknownst to me, placed a burden on me that I would never be able to carry. He had expected me to be his Messiah.
I had been suffering from major depression when Chuck came back into my life. By the time he left I was emotionally paralyzed. In addition, the stress triggered the onset of Celiac Disease which is irreversible. I was my own victim as well. I fell for his lies hook, line and sinker. The Cinderella in me made Chuck her Prince Charming, a role which he could never, ever play, at least with a female.
Happily Ever After - For Real
It’s not “happily after all” for me, not yet. I sunk about as low as I could. My self esteem was in the gutter, and I’m still clawing my way up. How could I allow this to happen? I loved him, and love can sometimes trick the mind. It’s like being on drugs.
If Chuck had been honest about his homosexuality in the beginning, I really do believe we would have had a fine relationship as friends. But he was on a desperate downward spiral and had no qualms about taking me along for the ride. What he did was unconscionable and without excuse. The same goes for me. I had no right to allow myself to be emotionally abused, to make excuses for my abuser and to forfeit my self respect.
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