synapticjava | Unsuspecting

My final short story for Creative Writing: Warning, it sucks.

As the fluorescentorange mid-sized moving van slid away into the overcast day, I could feel thestinging warmth of tears welling up as I closed my eyes.

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My final short story for Creative Writing: Warning, it sucks.

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As the fluorescentorange mid-sized moving van slid away into the overcast day, I could feel thestinging warmth of tears welling up as I closed my eyes.<spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> Half of everything that had been <istyle='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>ours was being taken away in that truckand as such, it felt like half of mewas stacked in a box somewhere in the cargo hold.<spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> Memories, photographs, artwork, dishes, andanything else that is needed to make a home feel home was being taken away by the one person I thought would neverleave. I suppose that just goes to showthat nothing ever stays the same. I hadthought I’d learned that lesson already, but apparently I was wrong.<o:p> </o:p>I first met Jasontwo months after moving to <st1:City w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">L.A.</st1:place></st1:City><spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> It was a prettydifficult time for me. Two monthsearlier I had come out to my parents, and it didn’t go well.<spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> I think somewhere between, “You’ll burn inhell,” and “I wish I had never had you!,” the three of us decided it justwasn’t going to work anymore. The verynext day I had everything that meant anything to me packed up into my littlerustbucket hatchback Ford and I was puttering down the highway away from ournon-descript farm in <st1:place w:st="on">middle America</st1:place> towards abright and shiny future on the west coast. I still don’t know why I chose <st1:City w:st="on">Los Angeles</st1:City>,but two weeks later I was checking into a room at the skeezy <istyle='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>Getaway For the Day Motel right acrossthe street from the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:PlaceName w:st="on">West Hollywood</st1:PlaceName> <st1:PlaceType w:st="on">Park</st1:PlaceType></st1:place><istyle='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>.It didn’t takelong for me to find work as a barback – I was cute, and had that Midwesterntwang that charmed a lot of the <st1:place w:st="on">West End</st1:place>queens. It only took me a month before Iclimbed my way, kicking and clawing, to a bartending spot on weekends at theRed Oasis, a night club like any other in <st1:City w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">L.A.</st1:place></st1:City><spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> It was overpriced, full of particularlynasty, bitter singles of all ages, and with the exception of the money I made(and boy, was that a lot of money), I hated it. Until one random Friday night when Jason walked through the door of theupstairs bar, trailing behind two sashaying princesses who fancied themselvesas Siamese when really they were just the run-of-the-mill tomcats, no better orworse than anyone else in the room.The first thing Inoticed about him was his clothes. Hewasn’t dressed like everyone else in too-tight graphic tees and Capri pantswith day-glow flipflops. He had on apair of raggedy old jeans that had that worn look to them you can’t buy in astore, and a burgundy colored silk button-up. I doubt he stood out much to the other people in the room, but by thatpoint I had been so accustomed to seeing the usual GayWear that this littlenoticeable difference was a welcome distraction.<spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> I also saw that he wasn’t prancing,strutting, skipping, or swaying as he was towed behind his two friends; he waswalking casually, yet confidently, with no agenda or care as to what anyonethought about him.Skipping over hisfriends completely, I went directly to him as he sat on a stool at thebar. “What can I get you, darling?” Iwinked at him. I’m a big winker.“Jack and coke forme and cosmos for the girls, sugar,” he smiled at me as he gestured to his twocompanions who were arguing passionately about who should have won American Idol.I’m almostpositive it was the smile that did me in. It was slightly crooked, tilted towards the left, but it framed hiswhite porcelain teeth perfectly. Hismocha colored eyes seemed to smile at the same time, and it was as if his wholebody, and attitude was framed with that single simple gesture.<spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> Yeah, it had to bethat smile.It wasn’t a busynight, and the other bartender, Ricky, was taking care of everyone else, soafter I delivered their drinks, I chatted with Jason for a little while.<spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> He too had grown up in the middle of nowhere,the proud son of a Wal-Mart manager and a Betty Crocker housewife.<spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> He was 24, a year older than myself, and hadlived in LA a little over three years. Having just finished getting a degree from UCLA in computer analysis, hewas moving on up into the corporate world and making the big bucks.“But who caresabout that, let me ask you aquestion,” he flashed his smile at me again.“Okay,” Ianswered, flashing one of my own prize-winning smiles at him.“What kind ofcoffee do you like in the morning?” he asked, arching one eyebrow sinisterly.“Non-fat soylatte,” I said without thinking. “Why?”“Well I need toknow what to order for you tomorrow morning when we wake up,” he winked.I’m almostpositive I fell in love with him that night, at that exact moment.<spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> And if not then, it was the next morning whenI rolled over in his bed, waking up and finding him laying next to me, holdinga steaming non-fat soy latte in one hand, and a box of condoms in the other.<o:p> </o:p>I have no ideawhere all the time went. We dated forabout a month, sleeping over at each other’s place every night, before wedecided to move in together. It was theperfect match. Our friends meshed wellwith each other, so there was never any drama at the parties we threw.<spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> He was a neat freak, and I was a slob,leaving my dirty clothes wherever they landed after a late night shift at thebar. He was successful and aggressive inbusiness, and I was perfectly content to keep bartending at night and sleepingduring the day while he was at work. What I lacked, he made up for, and vice versa.<spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> And the sex…the sex was amazing.Everything wasgoing well for so long. Almost once everymonth, Jason got promoted to a higher position, and at the bar, I was promotedfirst to manager, and then offered a percentage of the partnership.<spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> After sharing a just-right sized one-bedroomapartment in <st1:place w:st="on">West Hollywood</st1:place> for almost twoyears, we took the plunge and bought a two-bedroom condo in a high-risedowntown. It was a bit of a commute forme, but it was closer to work for him, and I was excited to be owning somethingother than my ford for the first time in life. We filled our new home with expensive treasures and extravagantfurnishings to reflect how happy we were, and how successful we were, and howfar we had come as a couple.That’s why it wassuch a surprise to come home from a double shift at the bar and find Jason inour brand new leather sleigh bed with a pair of twink twins who possessed zeropercent body fat, and very long…hair.Later, Jasonconfessed that he’d been sleeping around for while.<spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> “Since long before we bought this place,” hesaid, pacing back and forth in the living room, wearing only the silk robe I’dgiving him for Christmas the year before.“How long?” Iasked, clenching my fists around the tumbler of scotch I was holding in myhands.“I don’t know,” helied. “A year…two.”“Why?” I tried tosound calm, but I probably sounded like the victim in every single <istyle='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>Lifetime movie.“Because,” was hisexplanation. “Because we never see eachother. I miss you so much when you’renot here-”“So much that youhave to fuck a trick to feel better?” I interjected, feeling the scotch startingto numb my body slowly, starting with my toes and working its way up.“It’s not like-”“Well, I’ve gotnews for you, Jase,” I started screaming. “Looks like you’re going to need a lot more tricks, because <istyle='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>this,” I pointed to myself, to him, andback again, “is over.” Through theshield of salty tears, I could see him try to flash me that smile that had mademe fall for him. I hated him for that.<spanstyle='mso-spacerun:yes'> And I hated that I couldn’t hate him more forit.The very next day,I loaded as much as I could into back of my new Ford SUV, and drove to thenearest hotel and decided to stay until we could separate everything out – Iwanted a gay divorce.<o:p> </o:p>That was all alittle over a month ago. We decided thatI would keep the condo, and that he could have most of whatever else he wantedin exchange. He didn’t take much otherthan the things he’d bought or had before we moved into the place.The thing that gotme the most, though, is that I never suspected everything was about tochange. I never would have guessed thatI’d be standing there, watching him drive away, leaving our home and everythingwe’d made together behind. But Iwas. So it looks like the only thingthat ever stays the same is that when you least expect something, and when youare as unsuspecting as you can possibly be, that’s when everythingchanges. For me, it started that nighthe walked into my bar, and ended that day as I sobbed to myself on the streetoutside my empty home.

Unsuspecting

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