CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

I have a friend I’ve never seen

He hides his head inside a dream,

Somebody should go round and see if he can come out,

Try to lose the down that he’s found;

But only love can break your heart

Try to be sure right from the start

Yes, only love can break your heart –

What if your world should fall apart?

  - Only Love Can Break Your Heart – Neil Young

BRIAN

“You know, you could always ring and make an appointment like normal people,” Alex complains, taking the seat opposite me.  “Consultations in public bars are extremely unprofessional, not to mention distracting.”  He smiles at a well-muscled blond who’s blatantly cruising him.

“But then I’d have to pay your regular exorbitant fee,” I point out.

“Instead of just picking up the bar tab,” he grins.  “So; are you afraid for Gus’ safety?”

“Do you think I’d be sitting here if I were?”  I shake my head.  “I don’t doubt that Lindsay would rather have her teeth pulled with pliers than physically harm Gus.  But she doesn’t seem to realise there are other ways of injuring him.  I thought that once we’d called her on all her shit, she’d hold her hands up and get on with things … I mean, she’s always been so capable, so together, so organised.  Now she doesn’t seem to deal with anything, not her job, not her life … her place is a tip, she’s yelling and swearing in front of Gus, and even when she’s making the right noises she doesn’t seem to be interested, not really.  And she seems to be getting angrier, more resentful.  She still hasn’t even admitted she was ever in the wrong at all.”

Alex takes a sip of his beer and purses his lips thoughtfully.  “It’s perfectly possible she doesn’t think she was.”

“Oh, come on!  Mel and I confronted her together.  She knows what she did.”

“If only the mind were so straightforward.”   He leans forward.  “Tell me, Brian, what are you hoping to learn from this little chat?”

“I want to understand why!  Why, after all these years of thinking I knew her, thinking I could trust her … thinking she was my friend … why did that change?  Was she just playing me for an idiot?  And why isn’t the fucking therapy helping her?”

“Brian, you virtually blackmailed her into going.  Of course she resents it … of course she’s not being receptive.  And since she won’t allow Melanie to go with her, we have no idea how honest she’s actually being.”

“Do you think she’s lying to him?”

“How would I know?”  He rubs his hand through his silver hair.  “Christ, Brian, you’re asking me to analyse someone I’ve never even spoken to!  It’s not likely to be an accurate profile, is it?”

“I’m just asking for your opinion, that’s all.  I need to try and fix this, for Gus’ sake.”

He glares at me.  “Brian, your friends are not cars and I am not a mechanic!”

“I’m not an idiot!  You know what I mean.”  I lay both hands on the table, palms up.  “Please, Doc.  Give me some pointers here, I’m floundering.”

He sighs.  “You’re incorrigible, you know that?   God knows how Justin’s put up with you for so long.”

I put my tongue in my cheek.  “Can I help it if I’m irresistible?”

He chuckles.  “If you weren’t, you’d be paying for my words of wisdom like any other patient.  Okay … you tell me that Lindsay’s delusional about you.  She’s become convinced that the two of you are destined to be together, and she’s been doing everything she can to engineer that happy event.  She, on the other hand, denies everything except the fact that she believes that Gus would benefit from being reared by both his natural parents.  How is that delusional?”

I stare at him.  “Are you insane?  Because I’m fucking gay!  Because I don’t and never will love her that way!  It would be a travesty of a relationship … how would living a lie be of any benefit to Gus at all?”

He props his elbows on the table and meshes his fingers together, resting his chin on them and watching me intently.  “Obviously it wouldn’t be.  But you want me to try to get inside Lindsay’s head, right?  And I’m sorry, but from her point of view she’s a special case, and always has been.”

“How?” I demand.  “I slept with her once, in college.  Fifteen years ago.  Other than the fact that we have Gus, which may I point out was entirely her idea, I treat her exactly the same as any other of my friends.”

He studies me calmly.  “When you first met Lindsay, did you know she was a lesbian?”

“Fuck no, I thought she was straight.  She always liked to be the centre of attention, and she always flirted with guys … she still does.  No, I was surprised when she told me.  After all, I’m equipped with gaydar, not a dyke detector.”

He laughs.  “Did she think you were hitting on her?”

“Lindsay knew right from the start I was gay,” I protest.  “Fuck, we were just friends … I liked the way she stood up for herself back then, how she loved to buck the system.  She kind of took Mikey’s place for a while … we used to hang out and get stoned and talk politics … typical student shit.   And then one night we went to this party and got completely trashed … Christ, I can still remember the shock of waking up next to a naked woman.   I don’t recall anything about the deed itself, though.  Thank fuck.”

“So I’m right to think she’s the only woman you’ve ever slept with?”

“I’ve never even been tempted.”

He sits back.  “In other words, she managed to do what no other woman has ever been able to do … get the most committed gay man on the planet to have sex with her.  That’s some achievement.”

I glare at him.  “I told you, we were wasted.  It doesn’t count.”

“And if that wasn’t enough,” Alex continues imperturbably, “she managed to convince you to father a child with her: you, who didn’t believe in love, marriage, commitment or parenthood.  Is it surprising she saw herself as holding a very special place in your life?  That she might have always harboured the belief that you found her attractive in a way you did no other woman and that, given time, that attraction might grow to the point where you could admit it?”

.  

“I know she always had a thing about me.  But it was never sexual … I mean, she was never jealous of any of the guys I fucked … she always seemed to find it amusing.  And however they’ve ended up, Lindsay was happy with Mel for nearly ten years.  She’s a dyke, for fuck’s sake.”

Alex grimaces.   “It’s just a label.  Gay, lesbian, straight … there are no absolutes, Brian; just people. Sure, the majority are 100 % heterosexual and they’ve never felt the slightest attraction to members of their own sex.  Equally, many gays and lesbians have been certain of their sexual orientation since adolescence.  But there are all kinds in between … bisexuals who are equally attracted by either gender, or who will stay mostly within a hetero relationship but who will indulge in a homosexual fling if the opportunity presents itself.  And of course there are a huge number of men who manage to maintain a conventional relationship as husbands and fathers even though their primary orientation is homosexual, and who hide their true desires through fear of society’s disapproval.”

“Lindsay was going to do something similar a few years ago, when she and Mel first split up,” I tell him.  “Some French asshole who didn’t want to be deported.  Lindsay agreed to marry him so he could stay in the country … they’d even booked the fucking church.  It cost me my parental rights to stop her.”

Alex gapes at me, and I grin to see his professional suavity so rattled.  “Don’t worry, the guy was queer.”

“Oh, well, that’s alright then,” he says weakly.  “My God, Brian, if I wrote a thesis on you and your relationships I could redefine the boundaries of psychological research!”

“You’re so funny.”

“Well, I guess that’s a pretty good example of Lindsay’s ability to remove herself from reality, if she believed any good could possibly come from such an arrangement.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what I told you.  She always has made fucked-up decisions, but she never admits it.  Like that Billy Joel song … and she never gives in, she just changes her mind.  I never tried to understand it … I figured it was a woman thing.  After all, I don’t know many … only Deb and my mom, and I hardly think they’re typical.”

“Are you sure they weren’t physically involved?”

I shrug.  “He was definitely gay.  But then, he was also French.  So who knows?  They seemed pretty cosy with each other.”

“And yet she dropped him the moment you made a concession.  So much for her altruism.”  He takes a thoughtful swallow of beer.   “I’m afraid that no matter what your motives, you gave her another example of how much you were prepared to sacrifice for her … just to stop her marrying someone else.”

“But it wasn’t to stop her marrying someone else … it was just to stop her marrying him!”

“She probably didn’t see it that way.”

“Justin said the same thing.”  Smart little fucker.  I sigh.  “So you’re saying she’s bi?”

“Even if we give her the benefit of the doubt about your French friend, she’s had three male partners that we know of.  Perhaps you, as the first, could be put down to curiosity, or normal adolescent experimentation.  But the two affairs she’s had as an adult can’t be looked on in the same way.  These appear to have been intense, physically satisfying relationships.” 

I ignore the implied sleight to my hetero sexual technique.  “Then why the fuck didn’t she say so?  Why hide it all these years?”

He shrugs.  “Bisexuals have more problems than any other group when it comes to acceptance, both by their peers and society, because they belong to neither the straight nor the gay world.  Both sides tend to despise them as being morally and sexually suspect, as though they simply lack the strength of character to make their minds up one way or the other.  Either that or they tend to be seen as too promiscuous to care what gender their sexual partner is.”  He cocks his head to one side.  “Just as a matter of interest, how did Melanie react when she found Lindsay had been fucked by a man?”

“With total outrage,” I reply.  “I think she could have stood an affair with another woman … after all, she’s guilty of that herself.  But a man?  To Mel, that was the ultimate betrayal.”

“A perfect illustration of the point I was making.”  Alex shakes his head.  “But don’t assume that Lindsay recognised she was bisexual … that she was lying to you and Melanie.  That’s not necessarily the case, particularly given her ability to confuse fantasy with reality. When she was young, the same-sex attraction was strongest; after all, that’s normal with all children, whatever their sexual orientation.  As she became sexually active, her preference stayed the same.  She enjoyed being a lesbian and she enjoyed the notoriety it gave her.  And then she met you, Handsome Prince.  You probably weren’t the first male she found physically attractive, but you were evidently the first male she slept with and the first person she fell in love with.  But after your drunken liaison you didn’t wake up and say ‘Wow, Linds, I’ve seen the light!  Let’s get married!’ … you were shocked, even horrified.  Think what a blow that must have been to her self-esteem; the man she’d lost her heart and her virginity to, reacting with disgust to her naked body!”

I try to think back to that morning fifteen years ago, when I’d woken with a mother of a hang-over to find Lindsay squashed up against me in my narrow dorm bed, and the dawning realisation of what we’d done – the mute latex proof of which still lay where I’d tossed it.  Shocked?  Fucking aghast more like, and I guess I hadn’t been that tactful about it.  But then, Lindsay had been pretty rattled too … or I’d thought she was.

“So she accepted your version of the event,” Alex continues, “a stupid drunken fuck that shouldn’t have happened, and she buried how she really felt.  Easier for you, easier for her pride; it was a way to keep your friendship without embarrassing either of you.  She was a lesbian, you were gay, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t still love each other … as friends, of course.  She went on with her life, settling down, getting a career, nesting.  Consciously or not, she was living the way she would if she had been living with you … being the sort of wife she assumed you would approve of.  Even rearing your child.  It didn’t matter that she was doing all these things with Melanie; her primary attention was always on you, and she was secure in the uniqueness of her position.  And she sublimated her feelings for you into those of a sister and friend.” 

I grimace.  “I always thought she was one of the most well-balanced, contented people I knew.”

“She had no reason not to be.  She was living in a bubble … she had your son, your guaranteed role in her life, your support, your love.  She had her little fantasy about the two of you; she was probably as happy as she’s ever going to be.  She’d achieved almost everything she’d ever wanted, and as long as nothing threatened her she was content.  But something happened to turn that secret dream into a full-blown obsession … something that made her take actual steps towards bringing it into reality.”

“Mel says it was Sam Auerbach.”

His eyebrows go up.  “The artist?”

“The very same.  Linds was organising his exhibition … he was the first guy to fuck her since I did.  Very hot and steamy, by all accounts.   Mel says it turned her straight.”

Alex looks irritated.  “Brian, Lindsay did not have one night of hot sex with a man and wake up a ‘real’ women.  That’s the sort of simplistic thinking straight people indulge in.  Sam Auerbach might have fully wakened her latent desire for you, but he certainly didn’t create it.  Her sexuality isn’t the issue here, except as an added complication.  Lindsay being bisexual isn’t the problem; her inability to distinguish fantasy from reality is.”

“Well, if it wasn’t Sam, what the fuck was it?” I demand.

“Jealousy, of course.  The strongest of all passions.” 

I sigh.  I knew it, really.  “Of Justin.”

“Yes.  Your relationship with Michael never threatened her at all, because it was never physical.  Conversely, she didn’t mind your tricking because there were no emotions involved.   But Justin … he was a different matter.   She may have been able to deny her jealousy at first … she may have been able to persuade herself that she was happy for you, as a good friend should be.  But when you finally proposed to him … when you were going to marry him … then she had to face the fact that you loved him in a way you didn’t love her; a way you didn’t even love Gus.  She would have had to admit she’d been wrong all those years; that her perfect world in the heart of Brian Kinney’s universe was about to disintegrate.  And … she couldn’t do it.”  He shrugs.  “So she projected her emotions and impulses onto you.  You claimed to be gay, but you’d had sex with her.  You swore never to have a child, but you fathered Gus for her.  You loved him, not for his sake, but because she was the mother.  You were prepared to give up your parental rights to stop her marrying another man, because you were jealous.  You were with Justin because he reminded you of her.  You were going to marry him because you couldn’t marry her.  You let him go because she wanted you to.  In Lindsay’s world you are as obsessed by her as she is by you, and all she has to do is to make you realise that fact.  So to her all her actions are justified, because her aim is to fulfil you as well as herself.  To make you whole.”

“Christ.”  I can’t believe I’ve known her so long and never seen any of it.  Lindsay had just always been there … supportive, loyal, encouraging.  I feel sick.  “Then why is she being such a bitch to Gus?  None of this is his fault.”

Alex looks at me steadily.  “Maybe she thinks it is.  If he was her trump card, as it were, and he failed her?  What then?  After all, now she’s having to raise him alone… not a scenario she’d ever envisaged.  And Lindsay obviously doesn’t react well when she’s forced to face the truth.  I’m sorry to say that you and Mel confronting her probably wasn’t the best way of handling things.”  He frowns.  “I wish you’d spoken to me first.  I’m afraid that finally pushing her into a reality she wasn’t equipped to face might simply have made her retreat further from it.”

“So it is all my fault,” I groan.  “I fucking knew it.”

.

He’s silent for a moment, considering.  “Let me ask you a question.  Brian, I don’t doubt that you love your son.  You are obviously concerned for his welfare, and you are willing to do anything within your power to make this situation as painless as possible for him.   But may I ask why you agreed to become a father in the first place?”

Once, a lifetime ago, I would have given him some sarcastic quip about the sudden dim intimation of my own mortality and my subconscious need to leap into the gene pool before it was too late.  But Alex has earned my respect over the years and I don’t bullshit him anymore.  I guess I would even class him as a friend.

“Because Lindsay kept on about it.  And I was arrogant enough to want a mini-me in the world … just to fuck off the rest of them.  Plus, I was fucking stoned.”

Alex looks me straight in the eye.  “You could hardly have had worse reasons, … you know that, don’t you?”

I glare at him.  “I wouldn’t change anything, even if I could.  I got Gus out of it.”

“But if you hadn’t?” he persists.  “What if you hadn’t connected to your son?  What if you’d simply walked away as you’d intended and felt nothing?  You’d have just dumped a child into the world and left him to get on with it.  Basically what your father did to you.  Except you wouldn’t have even bothered to stick around.”

“Fuck you!”  I slam my bottle on to the tabletop.  “How did this end up being about me?”

“Because it is … you and Lindsay.”  He lays a soothing hand on my arm.  “Brian, you asked me whether this was your fault.  It’s not your fault, but that’s not to say there’s not some responsibility.  You made an ill-considered, selfish, immature decision when you agreed to father a child with her … and it’s only dumb luck that things didn’t turn out a lot worse than they have for Gus, and for you.”

I think of the asshole I was in those days, and picture how my life would have turned out if Gus hadn’t been part of it.  “And Justin,” I say softly.  “I don’t believe in fate, but it was kind of a strange coincidence that my two best influences both turned up on the same night.”

“If I believed in fate I wouldn’t be a psychologist,” Alex grins, “because in that case nothing we did would make any difference.  What I’m trying to say is that even though you made a poor initial decision it had good consequences as well as bad … but that is the same for every choice we make, good or bad, every day of our lives.  The only thing you can do is try to foresee those outcomes, weigh them, and go for the best option.  The decisions you’ve taken over the years have resulted in Lindsay believing that you find her sexually attractive, that you fathered a child for her, that you loved that child for her, that you gave up your parental rights for her.  But you’re not responsible for the delusion that has led her to interpret your actions in that simplistic way.”

“Then what the fuck is?”

“That’s the million-dollar question, and I can’t answer it.  You describe Lindsay as a conflicted personality … that she’s a passionate feminist, but she wants to be conventional housewife and mother.  She derides middle-class values, but she craves the comfort and stability they provide.  She rebels against her parents but she wants their love and acceptance.  Even as a lesbian, she chose a partner who, if male, they would have undoubtedly approved of … assertive, career-driven, ambitious.”  He pauses, evidently struck by an idea.  “You said she accused you of using Justin as a male substitute for her … but has it occurred to you that the same thing could be said of Melanie?  That she’s a female Brian Kinney?”

It hadn’t.  The concept’s too horrible to think about.  And there’s no way I’m sharing that insight with Mel.

“But that in itself isn’t unusual,” Alex goes on, seemingly oblivious to my expression.  “Most of us are paradoxes in many ways … the self-image we have of ourselves is often in direct conflict with subconscious behaviour and attitudes that were absorbed during childhood.   Most of us can recognise this, and work out a balance.  Lindsay doesn’t seem to be able to do so.  She tries to obey all her impulses, without distinguishing which are realistic and which are impossible.  Why that is … I couldn’t begin to make a conjecture.”   He shrugs a little and spreads his hands.  “Of course, I’m basing all this on your perceptions.  I could be talking complete bullshit.” 

I glare at him.  “Fuck you, you quack!  I need to know whether my son’s being raised by a bitch, or a psycho!”

Alex smiles thinly.  “I think the reality probably lies somewhere in between.”

“Then what the fuck do I do?”

“Wait.  Watch.  Be vigilant for Gus.  Give them both all the moral support you can.  Try to reign in that sarcastic tongue of yours.  But never allow her the slightest opportunity to mistake what you say or do … never be ambiguous.  Make sure she is never in doubt that your loyalty lies with Justin, and your future is with him, not you.”

“But she’ll get better, right?”

“I wish I could reassure you of that.”  Alex sighs.  “Unfortunately, I can’t.  Not if she’s unwilling to ask for help.”

Fuck.

TBC