This post contains descriptions of an abusive relationship between gay men. Unfortunately there are not many resources out there for gay men in abusive relationships but if you are in one please seek support.
The apartment was in almost complete darkness, except for the display on the microwave, the few other digital clocks, and the glow of power indicators as Spencer lay flat on his back on the living room floor with headphones over his ears listening to a third podcast. It was a the tranquility he needed after his long day at work.
He had contemplated smoking a joint, masturbating, and reading a book before he turned off his computer and phone, took the two items nearest to him, and got down onto the soft carpet. It was a foolish, impractical thing to do but it reminded him of his first apartment when he had no furniture. It reminded him of when he was young an he did things like that just for the experience.
His tranquility was broken when he heard the front door open. There was no doubt it was Josh. He thought to sit up, get his things, and pretend to be busy but he felt the inertia of being relaxed and decided to not move, hope that Josh didn’t see him. He listened to his roommate enter the apartment, then head straight back to his room.
When Josh’s door didn’t close he worried that the man would be back out towards the living room where he’d be found, or worse where he’d scare him. Spencer sat up and looked for some light, some indication of what his roommate was doing but there was none. He took the headphones off one ear and listened.
Josh opened a drawer, closed it, and headed to the bathroom. Spencer heard the shower start so he decided to lay back down, put his headphones back on properly. He closed his eyes, tried to refocus on the podcast but it was no good so he paused it. The sound of the water in the shower was muffled but he listened for it to stop.
Fifteen minutes later it did. He sat up enough to see the bathroom light as Josh opened the door but then it was off and he waited. He wanted Josh to go back to his room so he could go back to his peace and quiet, but he didn’t. Josh moved to the kitchen where he turned on the light. Spencer felt more foolish so he got up from the floor and moved to the couch and sat with his headphones and MP3 player in his lap.
“Hey Josh, I’m in the living room. I didn’t want you to be scared or anything.”
“Okay,” Josh replied.
It was unemotional, unworried. Spencer looked to his laptop and thought about turning it back on but didn’t because he didn’t want to see anymore emails or posts. He listened as Josh made himself a snack, then walk to the doorway.
“What are you doing in here in the dark?”
Spencer rolled his eyes only to realize his motion couldn’t be seen as he was sitting in a shadow. Josh on the other hand was a silhouette in the archway, a handsome silhouette.
“I was just trying to relax,” Spencer said.
“Oh, okay,” Josh said. He shifted on his feet and began to turn away before he refocused on the living room where Spencer sat in the partial darkness.
“Are you busy?”
“Nope,” Spencer said. He felt the headphones in his hands and wished he had said something else, wished he had said the truth. He wanted his own personal time, his own personal space.
“Can we talk?”
“Sure,” Spencer said.
Josh moved from the entrance of the room across the floor and to the other end of the couch where he sat. He was fresh from the shower and there was an odor of soap and melon coming from him. Spencer liked the smell. He wanted to be closer to it. He wanted to taste it.
“I uh, need to talk to someone,” Josh said.
It wasn’t what Spencer had thought would happen but it felt momentous so he stopped himself from thinking further and focused his thought and his energy on Josh. He could barely make out the man’s form and yet there was some comfort in not being able to really see each other.
“Something came up the other day in the support group and it just brought up all of these feelings about Paul and our relationship. I thought about saying something to the group but it just felt so weird. It was like this thing that was stuck in my throat and I couldn’t say it but I also couldn’t forget it. I thought about saying something to Triston but he’s been really busy with Vincent and I thought about one of the other guys or one of my friends but I feel like they don’t really know me.
“I know we had our argument and it’s been kind of weird living here. I know you liked living alone and everything, but I don’t know, it’s been kind of nice being here. Then I think about Paul and it’s like I’ve been in denial or something. I mean I know it happened and I know it was wrong but I just didn’t want to think about it. When I speak about it it’s kind of all the things I’m supposed to say, the minimal things, but it just has been building in me. It feels like this knot in my stomach.
“Sometimes I just want to blurt it out at the most inappropriate times, you know, it’s like this thing that people don’t know about me and sometimes I think they should, but really I know they shouldn’t. And it’s like any little thing sets me off, or at least feels like it. The other day at work this guy kept talking about his ‘wife beater’ and it was getting to me. He just kept using the term and he was talking about his undershirt. I just wanted to grab him and...” He motioned with his hands as if he was breaking something in half. “I know it seems so stupid but it just was bothering me. I mean it’s like everyone there has this expectation of who I am and what I’ve been through but they don’t really know. They don’t know much of anything about me.”
When Josh stopped speaking Spencer sat up a little, the headphones suddenly felt heavy in his hands so he put them on the coffee table along with the MP3 player, but then they were empty and his hands themselves felt heavy.
“Maybe I shouldn’t even tell you,” Josh said.
A breath, a heartbeat, Spencer was caught off guard by the comment but forced himself to speak. He knew those words that had to be said.
“No, it’s okay,” he replied. “Really, I’m here for you. I mean I’m not the best with knowing when to do things like hold your hand or hug you but I’m here. I’ll listen.”
Josh shifted in his seat and for a moment Spencer worried he’d leave, but he didn’t. Instead Josh sat back, further into the darkness until they could barely see each other. Each knew the other person was there, as if they could feel each other in shadow, but they couldn’t really see each other.
“I want to tell you about being with Paul,” Josh said.
“Okay,” Spencer replied.
“The first time it happened we were arguing and I said something really mean to him so he slapped me. I just kind of thought it was a normal thing, you know, like couples on TV slap each other. But then, the next time it was kind of different. It was like this punishment when he wrestled me to the ground. He’s strong but he’s also trained for all these years. At first it kind of felt like we were equals and I could overpower him, so it felt like a regular fight, you know, but then I was on the ground and I just knew something was wrong.
“It became more of a punishment after that. Not really a punishment, but some act of sadism. He had this way of grabbing me by the shoulders and pushing his fingernails into my skin, more than his fingernails, his fingers. He’d come up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders. He’d do it if there was something he felt I had done wrong, you know, like he’d caught me so he had to punish me, but then it felt like he’d just do it to torture me. He said he thought I liked it.
“At first I thought it was easier just to go along, let him do whatever, and then we could move on with life. He wasn’t always sadistic. But then, I don’t know, I just felt like I had to get away from him, but I just felt so foolish. I mean here I am, a muscled, strong gay man in a relationship with someone older than me and I’m afraid of him. It was like I didn’t know what would set him off and it felt like if I resisted, if I challenged him, it was all of the excuse he needed.
“He could go to such dark, scary places. It was like he went into this state and he just took it so far. He’d make these jokes and the comments about suicide, or like when there was a news story about someone who murdered their husband or wife. It was subtle but they stuck with me. They were like these barbs or these tiny, little cuts. And I started to worry about if I really made him angry, if I really gave him reason to do it.
“It felt like I was underwater, but like he was my only way out. I thought about going to someone like a friend but I didn’t think there was anything they could do for me. Most of the people I knew, especially people at work or like friends, weren’t really relationships you know. When I met Triston it felt like I was at the bottom. I didn’t think about leaving Paul anymore. I thought about murdering him.”
Spencer shifted in his seat. He felt the sincerity and the weight of what he was being told and it felt like this special moment between them.
“No really, I thought about it. I thought about how to get past his fighting abilities and do it. I thought about using a knife or a weapon. I thought about poisoning him. I was so angry all of the time. I just wanted it to be over.
“That’s when I met Triston at the shop. He was just so engaging and interesting. I talked with him for hours at different times. I think he kind of knew what was going on but he didn’t say anything. He just kind of was there for me. Then, one day he just gives me this big hug. It was exactly what I needed. I didn’t want to let go because if I did I would have to go back home to Paul. I started crying and he just sat with me. I thought this is it. This is my break. I told him as much as I could and he just listened to me, then when I was done he told me I had to leave. I said I couldn’t, but he said he knew some people. He said he would help me escape and he did.
“I know I can’t go back to him but it’s like I still want this feeling of closure. I want to be able to yell at him. I want to be able to punish him or just hit him. I want to know that if I see him again we’d be like strangers and that he won’t bother me. I mean I know he loved me. He used to tell me all of the time and he’d get me gifts but it’s like a dangerous love. I hate knowing that he’s still out there. I hate thinking of him being alone, but it’s like I can’t do it. I can’t be his punching bag or some toy he breaks. I want to move on with my life.”
Spencer slowly reached across the couch to Josh until his fingers touched the man's forearm. He felt over the hair there for a moment until he maneuvered around to the man's hand where he gently took hold, laced their fingers together. It was a comfort they both needed.
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