Thursday, September 10, 2009

When First We Practice To Deceive

Yesterday was my nineteenth wedding anniversary. I tried to do right. I really did. I ordered flowers, I cancelled appointments and took off work. We went out to a nice local restaurant in the country. I tried to do it right. But in the middle of dinner the wife says,

"So, have you heard from you friend Ms. Blah-Blah?"

Now, Ms. Blah Blah is a real estate agent who happens to have the same first name as my friend Ms. Mahwah Kiss. Stupidly, without seeking a point of clarification I answered.

"She started her own firm."

"Oh, I didn't mean your "special friend" Blah-Blah, I meant real estate Blah-Blah", she snarled.

And we were off to the races. I tried to suggest that it was our anniversary. Perhaps our last one. To no avail. She kept pushing and digging. Had I seen Ms. Mahwah? Lunched, dined, or drank with Mr. Mahwah? Had she been by the office? Had I not even emailed or texted her since her return to NYC?

The funny thing is, if you're a reader of the advochasty chronicles, Ms. Mahwah is not at the top of my hit parade as a love interest to say the least. She is a good, fun, dear friend. But I'm out as a perv with her and there's no sexual circuit breaking going on there.

My wife thinks that I have the hots for Ms. Mahwah because on my first "date" with Crimson friends of ours spotted us and I was later outted unintentionally to my wife. It was one of those comical scenes if you weren't living through it.

I was getting off the train in the country and spotted Dan, one of a couple we know from weekends.

"Hey, Advo, Stevie and I saw you out at Vegan Heaven on Wednesday with a very hot looking babe. We were trying to get your attention, but you seemed pretty engrossed."

Uh-oh. Stevie was meeting Dan at the station and was telling my wife this story as I was de-training. Of course, I had told my wife I was out at a boring, rubber chicken fest of a professional function. With only moments to spare, I decided I would tell my wife that I had been out with Ms. Mahwah Kiss.

Ms. Mahwah Kiss and I are good friends. So are Crimson and I. I'm not running away with either of them. Neither of them threaten my marriage. I suppose I understand that my wife feels vulnerable and unwanted because we don't have sex. She feels completely dependant on me, The Lying Liar, because I make all the money - such as that is these days.

But last night, as I told the dirty, rotten lies of lying liardom and repeatedly denied seeing Ms. Kiss despite our lunches, chats and texts; I longed to stop weaving tangled webs of deceit. I wanted to say that when Ms. Kiss returned from the West she was devastated for reasons I won't share here. I sent her to my shrink who she loved and she's on her feet and okay. I wanted to say I was actually out that night last year with Crimson; an incredible, brilliant, nice, facinating prodomme, who is my wonderful friend and has helped me feel good about myself.

But I can't. It would be cruel. She'd never understand. And on my nineteenth anniversary; despite flowers, making time, and a nice, romantic country restaurant - this was the reason that all this deception just needs to end. My marriage cannot accomodate my life.

10 comments:

Her Majesty's Plaything said...

What tangled webs we weave. How ironic that the person your wife was so jealous of isn't even on your radar. Even the person who your friend actually saw you with isn't "the one". I find that women can often sense these things, however, even if they don't know the particulars. They know you are having your needs met somewhere else. They know they are certainly not meeting them which means you should be desperate and despondent. So why do you have a spring in your step and that tell tale twinkle in your eye?

I can really identify. Those webs of deceit are all too familiar my friend. They were my least favorite thing about being a client. And in my case they are so totally not worth it.

advochasty said...

Actually, the lies I used to tell around being a client were quite managable.

It's lying about life that really sucks.

Her Majesty's Plaything said...

I hear ya!

Without putting too fine a point on it....lying sucks!

Volond said...

I feel your pain! I am in, almost, the same situation, but 10 years earlier.

Why do women (or people, in general) ask questions to which they don't want to know the answers? Or better yet, why do they (or, again, us, people in general) prefer to continue deceiving ourselves? As in, "honey, if you're not having sex with your significant other, somebody probably is." I mean, does one really have to be a therapist to know that that's just bad news anyway you twist it? Jeez!

Actually, in our cases, getting involved with a pro is probably the best thing that can happen - certainly much better (relatively speaking, of course) than getting involved with an unhappy woman.

In any case - all that is neither here nor there - try to be honest with yourself and try to do your best to be happy. We only go around once!

And with that, I believe I am in cliche penalty ;-). In any case, congratulations, of sorts!

Mistress Crimson said...

Wait, we aren't running away together?

Damn. I better start unpacking that suitcase full of canes....

advochasty said...

Voland,

I suppose the fact that my wife still asks these questions demonstrates that she still really loves me and really cares about us. It makes it all the more poignant.

Generally, life is good. And when life hands ya lemons, make lemonade.

Ding!!! To the cliche penalty box with me!!


C,

Shussssshhhh!! I was lying to the readership about us not running away together.

Come onnnnnn!!! You promised!!! Pack those canes back up and I'll meetcha at O'Hare tonight. I'll become a vegan, health nut for you!! I promise!!!

Not buyin' it huh? Will you settle for another getaway to the Coney Island freak show when you visit again?

Aarkey said...

Lots of heavy stuff, and I'm glad you are as grounded on your own two feet as you are.

I have found that it is so tough to have to try to "manage well," that I just can't do it anymore. I'm grateful I haven't had to - but I know what it's like. Compartmentalizing who we are, for the sake of others is one of the toughest things about being in the lifestyle.

And Vol.... you aren't thinking we actually would have an idea about why women do what they do, were ya? Cause *THAT* is crazy talk! :P

gintante? WTF kind of word is that? Sounds like some umbrella drink.

advochasty said...

Aarkey -

Either an umbrella drink or some kind of obsure master poker player move. "I called him then I gintanted up and he folded like a cheap suit."

My lifelong closet dwelling has made me a master "manager". However, what is telling is that my lifestyle stuff is out on the street of my life now and not hidden away. It's all so constantly ubiquitous that it's impossible to manage anymore.

I zone out looking at on line ads for condos in Brickell or the Grove and thinking about a rental in Williamsburg or Carroll Gardens.

We shall see ...

Hey, gettin' new wheels and tires on the old RX-7 baby!!

Thanks for dropping by!!

Maitresse S said...

*Sigh*...I understand all too well what you're going through.

I wish I could give you advice. I can't. I just know for me I couldn't live like that. We were both adults (as are you and the wife) and we would each have to be responsible for our lives without one another.

I just fear you'll justify staying in this bad marriage that you're not happy in because of something like money. If she feels resentful because you make all the money, well last time I checked - she CAN get a job, no? She IS educated, yes? The reality is it would just be a big, hard change. And I know that is a hard decision to make.

I hope you find some way to be happy.

advochasty said...

F. Scott Fitzgerald said that "the test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function."

So if operating with conflicting ideas is a measure of smarts my consolation prize is that at least according to F. Scott my IQ ought to be off the charts.

A 20 year marriage brings such steamer trunks full with shades of grey and exquisitely complex ambivalence that picking a workable path to something better is very tough.

Actually, I have very high hopes. Most of the impediment to a physical change is financial and we may be breaking the logjam on that one soon.

Then I can look forward to the far better prospect of being a single free agent and all the security and unconditional love that brings...

Such a whiner ... I'm actually feeling very optimistic.

Thanks for dropping by Ms. S ... you're a fine friend indeed to worry for me like this. So sweet.