Maybe—Tomorrow/Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
My dear Gay;
"I have just hung up the phone, and after hearing your voice again, maybe for the last time, I feel morbid and sad. It was so good to hear you again and I know I talked too long, but I just couldn't hang up. You were probably busy packing for your return trip to Cotton even tho you said you had nothing to do.
"Now that I've hung up the receiver, I feel like crying. Yes, just plain bawling. Already tears are hard to keep off this paper before me. My hand is shaking and you'll probably have a hard time reading this letter. Here I am a grown man, supposed to be, crying like a baby. I don't know why. Yes, I do too. I'm afraid I won't see you again. Right now, while I'm writing I'm tempted to call you, to tell you that I already miss you. Just to know that all I have to do is dial your hotel and I'll hear your voice again is too much. Forgive me, Gay, but I must talk to you again. I can't even think. Words don't seem to come to this troubled and mixed brain that I'm supposed to have in my stupid head. I must call you. I will.
"Now that I've talked to you again, I feel better. Or do I? Thanks for saying you'll miss me, for I'll miss you in so many ways. I know it's sudden to say such things, but life is sudden, short. Things happen so quickly maybe one should say the things he wants to instead of keeping them inside. You must know how I feel.
"Saturday night was wonderful and I hope that all my talking didn't scare you. Sunday was wonderful too. I'm glad that I was able to show you and your parents the town. So glad it was me, not someone else.
"I guess by now you've left the hotel. Remember, you told me you were just leaving. You didn't lie to me, did you, Gay? You were ready to leave, or did you just want to get rid of me? My mind is full of doubt.
"No, you didn't lie … forgive me but I just had to call, and they told me you had just checked out. Forgive me but I just had to. I've been lied to so much the past eight years that it's hard to believe people any more. I hope that we never lie to each other. Don't ever lie to me, Gay; please don't ever lie to me … I'll never lie to you. You don't lie to those you love.
"Did I bore you with my past Saturday night: You're the only one who knows the way I felt toward Arnold. Gene thinks he does, but he couldn't. He's too giddy to believe in real love. Still, we never know what lies behind the thoughts of the giddy ones, do we?
"I just made some coffee and I'm using the same cup you used. Just to know you held it makes me tingle all over. Silly perhaps, but nice. I shall never forget you … you will come back after school? You did mean it when you said you would spend a week with me …? Here I am in doubt again … doubting … guess that's my name right now.
"I hope your mother and father liked me. I thought they were grand. Your mother is charming and I hope your father didn't read my mind when he thanked me for being so nice to you. He's so goodlooking. You look like him and yet, you look like your mother too. Thank them for asking me to visit you. Maybe I will someday. It would be nice to see your house … your town … to be around the things belonging to you.
"Oh, Gay, it would be so easy to be nice to you the rest of my life. Spoil and pet you, love you. The next days and weeks are going to be awfully long without you.
"I just glanced at this messed up bed and could see you on it kicking and laughing as I undressed you. I had no idea you were so innocent … and when you asked me what a faggot was, I almost choked … you seemed so willing to do everything, I thought you had had affairs before. I don't mean just playing like you and Bob did. Every boy has done that. I used to and before I was brought out it was fun … but that was long ago.
"Looking back, I can see that you were innocent and I should have known it. The party must have startled you, seeing and talking to all those gay boys. I wish I would have known at the time but I was so jealous of Claude shoving his naked bod almost in your face, I wasn't thinking of innocent things. Especially when he took you in the bathroom. I was wondering what you two were doing, and I almost got up and knocked on the door. Those few minutes you were gone seemed years … I could have clawed his eyes out.
"I was startled when you called me Bob; afraid you were waiting for someone. I just knew you were gay … I wondered about Bob then, and I do now … Bob … I'm afraid I don't like him …
"Right now I hate him. Hate him enough to fight for you and I don't even know him. But he has held you in his arms, and maybe right now you two are together. He must be 'gay' himself or have a tendency toward it. They say normal men don't kiss other men. Like hell they don't. They do worse than that. I've known some so-called normal men that would put a belle to shame by some of the things they want to do. Normal? What's normal and what's abnormal? Isn't it merely a point of view, I ask myself.
"I'm sorry for what I said about Bob. Again I say I'm sorry but I am jealous of him. It's a miserable feeling … a feeling I have no right to feel, but I do, Gay, and I guess it's there and I can't do a thing about it.
"I was looking for love when you came along, Gay. You were it, but you're in love. I wonder if Bob loves you. Has he told you he does? Do you love him? Here again, I'm selfish in hoping you don't.
"I have a date tonight with Greg Brosard. I think I mentioned him to you. He's a very nice kid but, I don't know now … now that you came into my life … I'm sort of planning for it to continue … Right now I'm afraid I'd be bad company for anyone except you.
"This letter is probably all jumbled, for my mind is the same way. Still in the clouds where you left it. Write me real soon. I can hardly wait until I hear from you.
"It has just started raining. I hope it doesn't make your trip home unpleasant. For me it is perfect, for today I don't want to see the sun.
"Greg just called and I told him I couldn't see him tonight. A headache is always a good excuse, isn't it … Tomorrow, maybe tomorrow, things will straighten out … who knows … remember the old saying ‘Absence makes the heart restless,' or something like that.
"Please destroy this letter as soon as you finish it. Don't even read it over. Please don't … just tear it up.
"I keep wanting to tell you I miss and love you, wondering too, if I said too many strange things to you that Saturday night. Wondering what you really think of me. Wondering. Wondering … so many things … wondering about your Bob.
"Come back to me soon … real soon.
"I can't help loving you …
Paul
P.S. Thank your parents for the lovely dinner Sunday and give them my kindest regards … P.