Real Men Don’t Cry


thWe all know the saying don’t we?

Real Men Don’t Cry

I couldn’t disagree more.

Jack and I were tired from the afternoon of drinking, sports and sexual excursions but we knew this was our last night in town so we decided to head back out for a bit.   We met up with my co-workers for a drink and happy hour and shortly thereafter made our way back to the room to freshen up and change clothes.    I think reality started to set in for both of us.  Reality, that’s a bitch isn’t it?

We decided not to go back out for the evening because it was already late and it was cold as hell outside.   Jack and I stayed locked up in our room for the rest of the night.   He would be getting on a plane very early the next morning and we both knew this would be the last time we would see each other.   We just knew.

The proverbial making love one last time never happened but it wasn’t from lack of trying.    We were both emotionally drained and getting wet and getting hard was not going to happen.  But what did happen meant so much more.  As I laid on top of him my tears started to drip onto his face.  He was so beautiful.  He is beautiful.  We talked a lot about our love for each other.  What if we had met earlier?  What if I could still have kids?  Was this fate?  Were we meant to be together?   C’mon we met by chance on a damn game/phone app for God’s sake.  That said, at the end of the day, I knew Jack deserved to be a father.    And I knew once he had a child not only would we never see each other again, we would probably never speak again.   Never in a million years would I want to be a cause of pain for an innocent child.

Jack and I cried that night.   We cried a lot.   I’m crying as I write this post.   I laid in his arms and cried until my face hurt.   And I held him as he cried in my arms.   He had never opened up this way with anyone.   He had never cried for a woman, let alone in front of one.   I know he was hurting.   And torn.   And confused.   But we both knew what was and what wasn’t.

He had to leave before sunrise to go home to his wife.   We sat on the bed and just looked at each other and held each other for what seemed like hours but was only minutes.    And just before leaving, we both stood up and he looked at me partly with love partly with guilt.  “Don’t cry Jackie.  Please, you are so beautiful.  I don’t want to remember you this way”.    I sucked it up.   Made a few jokes.  And once he closed the door I started wailing like a baby.    I hadn’t experienced a loss like this since my Mother died.

I never felt more alone than I did that morning.   Knowing in my mind it was over.   Knowing in my heart it never would be.   That was more than a year ago.  And it still burns.  His wife still has not been able to give him a child.   And I feel so damn cheated.


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