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7
Tal
Like a fart that you accidentally let rip in public, my words are out in the open, and there's nothing I can do about it now.
Maybe this isn't the best time to lay my feelings on him, but after seeing Marsh spiraling like that, I don't know, something compelled me to do it.
And now it's done.
He knows.
The ball's in his court.
He opens his mouth. "I'm…"
He closes his mouth, shakes his head.
He opens his mouth again, but nothing comes out.
"You're in shock. Sorry." I let go of his hand. "I shouldn't have laid this on you. Now might not be the best time."
"No, no. Don't be sorry. It's just… Yeah, okay. I'm in shock. You…you don't fall in love with people. Ever. You're the king of casual."
"I am." I pause. "Iwas."
"Past tense?"
"Yeah. You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you when the last time I had sex was, much less the last time I had sex and my heart was actually in it."
"Really?"
I nod again. "Something's been missing from my life my whole life. I've only started to realize it recently, though. It started in childhood and continued throughout my teen years. The world was different back then"—I point my finger at him—"No jokes about my age."
Marsh grins slyly. "I wasn't gonna."
"You so were." I chuckle. "Anyway, being gay and coming out was a lot different back then. I won't say harder because it can still, unfortunately, be just as hard these days. I had a lot of unresolved feelings, and I didn't know what to do with them, so I threw myself into two things. My work, and fucking. For a long time, it worked. My career exploded, and I achieved success I’d never dreamed of as a photographer. And that went hand in hand with traveling the world and fucking gorgeous guys wherever I went."
"So what's changed?"
"Not sure. I turned fifty and realized you can't keep trying to outrun your issues forever. Wherever you go, there they are."
Marsh nods. "I turned forty last year, and it hit me like a fucking bullet train."
"Life?"
"Yeah. Life. Forty always felt like such an adult age when I was a kid. I always thought I'd have my shit sorted by the time I reached that age."
"Try being almost fifty-five and still not feeling like you've got shit sorted."
"So it doesn't get easier?"
I blow out a breath. "For me, no. But that's only because I'm a stubborn ass who put this off for way too long. And part of what I was avoiding was my feelings for you. I'm in love with you. It's not a crush. It's not an infatuation. Or merely a physical attraction, although it is very much that, too. I love you with a capital fucking L."
"Oh."
I turn away, unable to look at Marsh. What could possibly be running through his mind right now?
People always say that the truth will set you free. I thought that by verbalizing my feelings, I'd feel lighter, or freer. But it turns out that's a steaming pile of horseshit.
