SURROGATE FATHER NO LONGER
PART 3
Their cabin on the luxury cruise ship was on an upper deck with a balcony that provided a spectacular view of the icebergs and snow-capped mountains of Alaska. It was an expensive extravagance but Mike would settle for nothing less as a 25th anniversary gift to his long-time partner, Corey.
They spent a considerable amount of time on the balcony engaging in casual conversation ("Wasn't that a wonderful dinner?" "What's the plan for tomorrow?" "I'm looking forward to the hike along the glacier." "I can't get over the grace of that stud diving into the pool this afternoon; he could win a medal in the Olympics."). Often, the conversation would be interrupted by total silence as they admired the spectacular scenery (It was such a contrast to life in Manhattan where they had lived for nearly ten years.) or were lost in their personal memories of the many wonderful times they had enjoyed together - not the least of which, of course, was the erotic intimacy they still found irresistible. Mike was now 60 and Corey had just passed his 44th birthday. Sex was no longer a daily pleasure as it had been 25 years ago but the less frequent episodes were nevertheless delightful.
After one of the long periods of silence Mike said, "You know we may have set some kind of record."
"What do you mean?"
"We're probably the only couple -- gay OR straight - that's never had an argument in 25 years of living together."
Corey thought for a few minutes and said, "I can think of several. Like after Mom died and I wanted us to come out ... to be honest with ourselves and everybody else ... to live like an openly gay couple. You were adamantly against the idea. We disagreed for more than a week before I finally gave up."
"I remember that well," Mike mused. "But it was not really an argument. It was a disagreement."
"What's the difference?"
"Two people can disagree because they have different opinions or know different facts. They state what they believe to be true but -- and here's the critical difference -- they also listen to the other person. Not just HEAR. They LISTEN. The objective is to UNDERSTAND the other person and not to force an opinion the other. Then they either amicably agree to disagree or come to a compromise based on an expanded understanding of each other's point of view. In an argument by contrast, each person gets emotionally involved and the goal is to WIN and have the other person concede defeat. Think back. Did we disagree or did we argue about coming out?"
"Well," Corey began. "Neither one of us got mad. We talked about it a lot. In the end, I saw that it was not a good idea. But I was disappointed. Does that mean you won the argument?"
"Not at all ... or at least I hope not. I hope that by exploring all the consequences, you gained insight and changed your opinion. That's not losing. And it doesn't preclude disappointment either. Besides, in the long run you won - if you want to think of it that way - because when we moved to New York, we didn't hide our relationship or our love for each other."
"And I'm glad we made that decision," Corey conceded.
After a short period of silent reflection, Mike said, "Evaluate the last few minutes of our conversation. Was that a disagreement, an argument, or just a discussion?"
Corey thought a moment and replied, "It started as a disagreement; I thought we'd argued but you didn't. We discussed it. I changed my mind. It wasn't an argument because neither of us was out to score a victory, to defeat the other ... or at least I wasn't."
"Nor was I," Mike grinned. "When you were a very little boy, we may have argued. For example, when you wanted to stay up past your bedtime. You gave me all kinds of silly reasons. You fought to get your way and win the argument. I had to get firm with you. I wanted to win, too. You pouted and cried. I have to admit that I got angry. Neither of us felt good when it was over. But since our relationship changed, I can't think of a single instance of arguing. Do you suppose it's our love that lets us disagree, talk about it, and remain friends?"
"Yeah."
A long silence followed. (That's the beauty of a close relationship; one doesn't have to fill conversational voids with unnecessary talk.)
Mike broke the silence. "Say, what ever happened to Lisa?"
"Lisa who?"
"Lisa Conners. The lesbian that you dated in college. Well, not really 'dated.' You both were putting on a show, pretending to be straight so nobody would suspect you were gay."
Corey stared off into the distance before saying, "Oh yeah. After we graduated, she went home to Oregon. I never heard from her again. I thought about her once in a while after graduation, hoping that she found a companion as great as I did. NO! That's not right! Nobody could be as wonderful as you!"
"I disagree!" Mike said forcefully. Corey was taken aback. "I found someone more wonderful: YOU!"
Corey laughed and said, "Okay. We'll agree to disagree. Anyway, I haven't thought about her for years. She was a really nice person. Good looking - for a girl! Smart. Great sense of humor. I always enjoyed being with her. She seemed to like me, too. If we had both been straight, we may have wound up married."
"And had eight or ten children, no doubt," Mike joked.
"Nah," Corey shot back. "Two or three maybe. That's why they invented condoms."
"That and to prevent disease. Remember way back then? The packages always stressed avoiding venereal disease and not birth control. I'll bet they never even thought about how gays use them to avoid having to clean up a messy cock after love-making."
"I don't think I'll ever see that in an ad," laughed Corey.
Mike stood, leaned down, and kissed his lover. "Since you brought up the subject of condoms, why don't we go inside and use a couple?"
"What!" Corey exclaimed in mock surprise. Teasing his companion, he continued, "And miss enjoying more of the beautiful scenery while it's still daylight? Look! There's an iceberg that just broke off the glacier. Impressive, isn't it?"
"There's another scene that's more beautiful - your naked body. I never tire of admiring it. And making love to it. How about it?"
The two lovers often enjoyed sex at night before falling asleep in each other's arms. They regularly delayed breakfast on weekend mornings for the same reason. But the kind of spontaneous sex that Mike suggested had a special appeal that Corey could not resist. Hand in hand, they walked inside to the bed. Wordlessly, they progressed through passionate kissing, disrobing each other, and extended foreplay. They had learned long ago precisely how to arouse and please each other - sometimes with familiar behavior but often with the added spice of something unexpected. On this occasion they spoke to each other - to reaffirm vocally their unwavering love and dedication - only after explosive orgasms.
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Two months after returning from the Alaskan cruise, Mike awoke in the morning with pulsating sensations in his abdomen and pain in his lower back. More troubling was the pain in his scrotum. He decided to go to work and hope the problem would pass. But it didn't. It steadily got worse. By midmorning he was in a taxi on his way to the hospital emergency room. There, the physician on duty ordered a number of tests, which resulted in a diagnosis of an Abdominal Aorta Aneurism, a ballooning of a major artery just below the kidneys. If it ruptured, it would likely be fatal. The doctor arranged for immediate access to a surgery suite. Mike wanted to call Corey, an architect, but remembered that he was out of the office all day visiting a building site with his client. Half an hour later, Mike was prepped for a very delicate operation.
He woke up in the recovery room with an IV in his arm, electrodes pasted all over his torso, and a large bandage taped to the site of the incision below his navel. Groggy though he was, he signaled for a nurse who promptly appeared. "What time is it?" Mike asked.
"Six thirty," the nurse replied. "How do you feel?"
Ignoring the question, Mike said, "I need to ask a favor. Nobody knows I'm here. Can you telephone someone and tell him why I won't be home for dinner?"
Upon hanging up the phone, Corey rushed to the hospital. He'd been told virtually nothing about his partner's condition or even why he had emergency surgery. In spite of his insistent questions, the nurse refused to divulge any information because of privacy regulations. He was overcome with concern for the most important person in his life, concern that bordered on both panic and dread.
By the time he reached the hospital, he was frantic, a nervous wreck. He ran inside and asked the receptionist at the front desk where his "friend" was. The question was more of a demand because his civility had been extinguished by his distress and by having adopted the New Yorker's assertive, callous attitude in the preceding few years.
The receptionist began tapping keys on her computer while Corey waited with growing impatience. Finally, she said, "I don't show that name in my files. Are you sure you're at the right hospital?"
"YES!" Corey barked, his irritation bordering on rage. "The duty nurse phoned me half an hour ago after the surgery."
The receptionist glared up at the distraught visitor and coldly replied, "Then he's not been transferred to a regular room or it's not in the system yet."
"Call the nursing station in post-op," Corey insisted. "Find out his whereabouts."
"That's against the rules."
Corey laid a twenty dollar bill on her desk and growled, "Screw the rules! DO IT ANYWAY!"
The intimidated young woman glanced around the lobby. Sure that nobody was watching, she cautiously slipped the bill into her bra and picked up the phone. In a few moments (which seemed much longer to Corey) she hung up the phone and said softly, "Room 342."
Corey hurried to the elevators and after some frantic searching found the room. Rushing in, he blurted, "Mike! Are you all right?"
"Still a little groggy," Mike replied. "But I'm fine."
During the next twenty minutes, Mike related what had happened. Corey's anxiety was only slightly reduced by Mike's artificially upbeat tone and attitude. The spirits of both men, however, were dashed by what happened next.
The surgeon came into the room to check on his patient. After pleasantries and deciding that the recovery was progressing well, he said, "I have some good news and some bad news for you. But maybe your visitor wouldn't mind stepping out in the hall for a minute."
"No need for that, Doc." Mike replied. "Corey Hopkins is my partner. He'll be taking care of me while I recuperate."
The surgeon raised his eyebrows, unsure what "partner" meant. "All right. First, the aneurism is completely repaired and you should have no problems in the future. However, during the operation a nerve from your spinal column to your genital area was severed. As a result, you're most likely to be impotent. I don't suspect you plan to father any children at your age but attaining an erection and achieving an orgasm will be impossible. Sometimes nerves regenerate but in this case, given the location of the nerve damage, it's not possible."
Both Corey and Mike were speechless, each trying to digest the bad news in their own way. The doctor continued, "I expect you can go home in a few days but I want to see you in two weeks just to make sure you're recuperating satisfactorily. My secretary will call to make the appointment." With that, the surgeon left.
The next afternoon, Corey escorted the recovering patient home in a taxi. Neither of them said much on the way. Neither of them would admit it but they were still thinking about the sudden disruption to their sex life and that was a conversation not to be overheard by a cab driver. Mike's thoughts centered on giving his younger partner permission to seek other men to satisfy his sexual needs. Corey's thoughts, however, were more confused. He was still worried about the man he loved and whether his impotence would propel him into depression. He also feared future health problems for his older lover. His fears were not for himself but entirely caused by a fervent wish that Mike would not suffer some unpredictable infirmity of old age.
When they went to bed that night they limited their love-making to snuggling up to each other, kissing, and re-asserting their love and their devotion to each other. For the next month, that's all they did. Mike was still in too much pain from the surgery. When the pain was gone, Corey sucked Mike's permanently flaccid cock with no effect. Mike was upset that he couldn't perform while Corey, sensing his partner's concern, did nothing from that time on to suggest sexual activity.
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Upon returning from the follow-up visit with the doctor with permission to return to work, Mike said, "Corey, we need to have a serious discussion." Corey was sure of the topic and was not mistaken. "The doctor was right. I've tried to masturbate when you were at work. I can't get hard even when watching a porno video. You know that I usually leak precum watching porn but even that doesn't happen any more. So the sad fact is, our sex life is over. Knowing that, I've come to a conclusion. It's not fair to you. You have years of -- shall we say ... vitality ... ahead of you -- and you deserve to have the opportunity for sexual enjoyment. Therefore, I want you to feel free to find other men to satisfy your needs."
"NO!" Corey interrupted.
"Hear me out, Corey. I'm asking that you enjoy sex out of a genuine wish for your happiness. I won't mind. I really won't. In fact, I'll be pleased. Go out on the town. If you find a bed partner and want to spend the night with him, please ... please do it. For your own satisfaction and - believe it or not - for mine. All I ask is that you let me know when you won't be home so I don't worry about you. If I know you're hitting the sack with a stud, I'll be happy for you."
"Are you finished?" Corey growled, complying with their agreement to be free to disagree. "If so, here's my final answer: an emphatic, unequivocal, and unchanging answer. I WON'T DO IT. I've had a week to think about it and I've come to realize that our sex, great as it has been, is a tiny fraction of why I love you, why I'm devoted to you, and why I cherish your companionship. You've made my life unimaginably happy and that won't change just because we can't express our love physically. Moreover, there's an old-fashioned notion. Some think it's corny or Victorian but it's very important to me. It's called FIDELITY. When we first got together, it was a commitment to love, honor, and cherish until death do us part. I gladly accepted that obligation because you meant everything to me. You still do. I'm not about to break the promise I made to you and to myself!"
"But, Corey...," Mike began.
"But nothing! I won't do it! You want another reason? If I'm with another man, I'd be thinking of you, the one man in all the world I've loved for years, and still love. Imagine. Trying to fuck some stranger. Trying to enjoy it when all I can think about is my great man at home. And all the joy he's given me. No, Mike, I won't do it!
"I think you're being unreasonable," Mike said.
"And I think with that comment, you've turned a disagreement into an argument. Remember when you taught me the difference? You said that a disagreement can end either in an argument, a change of opinion based on new information, or a compromise. Let me propose a compromise. I'll keep your offer in mind. But I guaran-damn-tee you, it won't happen! Fidelity is much too important to me.
EPILOGUE
There was no sex for the next thirteen years but there was an abundance of love and joy.
Mike, at age 73, died of a cerebral hemorrhage. Corey was heart broken and mourned for weeks. During the ensuing years, he never stopped grieving for Mike's comforting arms and loving heart. His emotional pains scarred-over until they became bearable, but they never became so tough that he hurt or closed-out others. But each time he heard a certain song on the car's radio, or the malls' overhead "elevator-music", or when he watched the movie, "Ghost" (for the hundredth time!), there were tears -- WARM tears of loving memories -- SAD tears over Mike's afflictions that no one had seen coming (and always wondering if maybe there were something that he, Corey, might have been able to do to prevent the sudden attacks) -- and COLD tears, aching with the emptiness of his own arms wrapped around his own chest and sides as he mouthed the words of the song, sometimes sending them TO Mike, and sometimes hearing his one and only love silently singing them to him even though no one else was able to hear the familiar words:
Oh, my love, my darling
I've hungered for your touch
A long, lonely time
And time goes by so slowly
And time can do so much
Are you still mine?
I need your love
I need your love
God speed your love to me!
Lonely rivers flow
To the sea, to the sea
To the open arms of the sea
Lonely rivers sigh
"Wait for me, wait for me"
I'll be coming home, wait for me!
Oh, my love, my darling
I've hungered for your touch
A long, lonely time
And time goes by so slowly
And time can do so much
Are you still mine?
I need your love
I need your love
God speed your love to me!
Unchained Melody (1955)
music by Alex North
lyrics by Hy Zaret.