Date: Fri, 27 May 2011 18:08:29 +0000
From: Morris Henderson <bigmoh@post.com>
Subject: surrogate_fzther_no_longer_part_3

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.

 <><><><><>

 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.

 <><><><><>

 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.