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It had been a few days after my strong argument against Madison, and I still wasn’t over it. He had come over twice (because after our fight, I went back home) since then, but we really hadn’t spoken about it. We ate dinner in silence and then he left. That was the situation both times he came over. It bothered me a bit, yeah, but I was still a little hurt- okay, very hurt- about what he said. I don’t think it was very fair. Still I had to keep moving on with my life, I couldn’t dwell on that fight forever. I had a wife I needed to take care of and love, I needed to move on from the whole Madison situation- feelings and all. Even if he did try to apologize, things were going to be very different now.
I was about to get into bed when my phone vibrated, telling me that someone had just sent me a text message. I didn’t really want to know who it was (because I was about ninety percent sure of who it was and I didn’t want to answer). However, there was something inside me that told me I couldn’t ignore him forever. So about five minutes after the message had arrived, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand. I unlocked it so I could see the message that had arrived.
hey u at home?
I grimaced at they way he typed and worded that message. I always hated when people abbreviated unnecessary words like ‘u’ and ‘yours’ and things like that. Putting all that aside, I decided to reply to his message.
yeah, why?
I didn’t have to wait too long to get a reply from him, the reply was almost immediate.
i fucked up.
Oh god, that could only mean one thing- he was trying to apologize without actually apologizing. Courage is what I needed to gain from the day I first realized that I loved him, and it’s what I needed to gain now. I needed to set him in his place and tell him to do what is right.
oh god, madison, not over the phone.
And again his answer was almost immediate, not surprising really.
why not? u don’t want to see me, u don’t want to talk to me. u r always silent when i go over. so what makes it diff. now?
I groaned internally, because he was partially right. I didn’t want to speak to him about it because I was afraid something was going to go wrong (like it always does) and that I would end up saying something that would really fuck us up even more. I had to have courage though, I had to confront Madison.
alright, just come over. we’ll talk about this.
I set my phone down (this was becoming too much) to wait for his reply. This time there was no answer, but instead there was a knock on the door. I inwardly cursed, why the hell was somebody knocking on my door this late at night? I was already tense enough now that Madison was coming over, I didn’t need to add someone else to the pile, for fuck’s sake.
I dragged myself out of bed (almost literally) and made my way down the stairs. When I opened the door, I wasn’t surprised to see who was on the other side.
“Have you been here the entire time?” I asked him, making a gesture that let him know that he could come in.
“Would it be creepy if I told you that I was?” Madison replied. “Because I’m sorry if it is.”
I thought about it for a bit, and finally decided that it wasn’t all that creepy. Maybe a little bit, but not a whole lot.
“No.”
After he came in, we made our way to the kitchen, sitting opposite from one another. It was silent for a few seconds (not that awkward silence but comfortable). The only sounds that really came from either of us was the air flowing through our noses. I stared at my hands, which were folded neatly in front of me; while Madison looked at me (I didn’t know this until I decided to look up).
“You came here to talk about something?” I asked. “Is there something that you’re waiting for?”
“You’re right, I came here to apologize. I know, and I admit, that I royally fucked up big time with you. I shouldn’t have said all of those things that I did; I guess I should have worded them better. But you’ve got to understand where I’m coming from, because you come from there too. Listen, we’re both from the south and being like I am- it’s just not acceptable. No matter what you do, no matter whose child you are, no matter what,” he said, looking directly into my eyes. “Heterosexuality is the only type of sexuality acceptable in the south, even in today’s time. All others are just a myth, they don’t exist, and if they do, it’s going against god. Ali and I knew this, and in order to be able to live a good life, even if it is deceitful, we knew that we had to get married.”
“But why did you hide this from me?”
“Well, because you never really asked me, and I didn’t know how you were going to react. I don’t know how you were raised. You never really speak about your parents or your childhood.”
“Tell me,” I began, tapping my fingers on the table. “Do you remember at all how I reacted to you just feeling me up all the time when you were drunk?”
“Uhm,” he stuttered, a blush rising to his cheeks. “A little bit, yeah.”
“Did it looked like I cared what sexuality you were at that moment? Did it?”
“No.”
“Then why would I care what you label yourself as. Don’t get me wrong, I care what you are, but that’s not going to stop me from being your friend. I’m your friend because I care about you, a lot, and I care for your well being. Don’t you get that? Don’t you get that every day I hate myself because I am not good enough to be friends with someone like you? Don’t you get that I hate myself every day for-”
“For what? Why do you hate yourself?”
“Do you not get it? Am I speaking another language that you don’t understand or what? I am not good enough for you, I’m not good enough.”
“Not good enough for me? What in the world do you mean, for me?”
“Do you not see it? Are you blind?” I asked, feeling a bit annoyed at Madison. “Anyone who didn’t feel the way I feel about you would have hit you or told you off for touching me like that. Anyone would have known that letting myself, a married man, be touched like that by another married man is wrong. But I didn’t. I didn’t tell you anything, because despite it being wrong, it felt so right for me. It felt so right and I hate myself for it because I thought the only person I should love is Kelly, not my best friend.”
“What? Listen to yourself. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”
“Of course I’m feeling fucking alright. You know what? Just forget about everything I said. I was dumb to think someone like you would understand.”
“Fuck you,” he said, laughing.
“Fuck me? No, fuck you.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Of course it fucking is.”