What’s the biggest lie you ever told?
I’m talking “whopper” now. None of the “little white lies” kinda story. But one that would qualify as a bold-faced LIE!
Mine was to an ex-girlfriend. Not a lie to hide I had been with another girl. Or why I forgot an anniversary or her birthday.
I told Peggy McPeake I was a homosexual so that I would not have to go to bed with her. It was a lie. And I’m not. Not that here’s anything wrong with it. But, I couldn’t think of any other reason not to hurt her feelings.
Oh, I wanted to “be with her.” She was one hot number. And I was turned on to her when I saw her more than 10 years after we had broken up, married others, and eventually divorced. We were both divorce-free, ready and able to consummate what we had wanted to do during the three to four years we dated, but refrained from doing.
It just didn’t feel right.
Before anyone starts to call me a “wuss,” and claim I should have pulled a “wham, bam, thank you ‘mam,” let me explain. It wasn’t the same at age 30 as it was at 14 through 17. She wasn’t someone I could treat as a “one-night” stand, walk away from, and forget about.
She was the girl I “knew” I would marry one day. So sure of my self when I was a teenager. Everything was black and white, good or bad, them versus us. It took years to learn that opposites sides of a coin always merge at the edges. That many, if not most, of life’s decisions are made from a gray area.
Peggy had two children. Both had been put to bed by the time I visited her at her house in the old neighborhood of Brewerytown, North Philadelphia. She had straightened up, but someone had poured leftover Cheerios into sinkful of dishwater, and I could not shake the image of little round oats floating around when we “made out” on the couch.
Nor could I get use to the metal I felt around her bra. Had never “felt” one of those “uplifters” before that night, and thought perhaps it was a prosthetic device for some broken parts. It got in the way of truly “feeling” her, the way I remembered feeling her.
Couldn’t get the thought of her kids sleeping nearby and possibly walking in on us. I wasn’t ready for another marriage at that moment, and that’s where this may have gone, should we have taken that next step.You combine all of this, plus the nagging belief we were not the same persons we were in the ’60s, not the same teenage couple, not of the same chemistry as before.
And that’s when I decided to lie. Not only to let her down easily, but to “let myself up” from possibly making the mistake some believe they will never make. That you can go back home again. To become the same persons you were again.
Too many things change. They mold us for better or worse, and while it would be so comforting to renew an old loving way of life, Destiny and Fate most always demand we seek our futures elsewhere.
And that’s the truth, Peg. Can you understand it now?