Page 86 of Unexpected Boyfriends

It’s grueling.

Although I didn’t realize it at the time, some of the notions I was exposed to at the ReEducation Centre stuck, sliding sneakily into my subconscious and leaving me uneasy with myself and my sexual orientation. The counselor helps me pick apart my thoughts and helps me search for my truths.

There are lies that they’ve poisoned me with and self-doubts that have been stirred. When you’ve been told repeatedly how shameful you are, it can be hard to be honest… even with your therapist. It takes me a long time to finally tell her the extent of the measures they went to, trying to turn me off having a physical relationship with a man. Eventually, though, I do.

I break down as I tell her, the tears streaming down my face and the hurt flowing from me in great heaving sobs. She lets me cry, not speaking as I fall to pieces in front of her.

Eventually, I'm empty and I fall quiet, with just the occasional sniff as I try to stop the snot from running down my face. I wipe my face on my sleeve.

"Are you okay to continue?" the counselor asks gently.

I nod, draw in a shuddering breath and I tell her what happened the last time Axel and I tried to take our physical relationship further.

“I know it makes no sense,” I berate myself, “but I just reacted.”

The counselor nods understandingly on the screen.

“This sort of programming isn’t unheard of, and your reaction was perfectly reasonable,” she assures me, “but the good news is that you can re-program your reactions. But it takes time.”

We talk some more. I make some decisions, that I hope will give me the mental space to sort myself out. Now I have to break the news to Axel.

AXEL

After his latest session, Justin has been exceptionally quiet. He doesn’t exactly avoid me, but he doesn’t maintain eye contact for very long either, although he keeps glancing at me. He opens his mouth as if he's about to say something, bites his lip, and then doesn’t. He keeps this up all afternoon, until I can’t stand it anymore.

“Is there something you need to say?” I finally ask him, frustration leaking through in my tone.

Justin stills.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, there is.”

I wait.

“Um,” Justin is clearly hesitant about having this conversation. Whatever it is, it can’t be good. A prickle of unease runs up my spine.

Justin stares at the floor. “Look, I’m sorry but I think…” he stops. He takes a deep breath, like this is really hard for him.

Wait. Is he about to break up with me? Now? After everything? My heart plummets. I’m going to be sick.

“Are you… are you breaking up with me?” I blurt out. There’s a lump in my throat and I desperately blink back the tears that are gathering in my eyes.

“What?No! No!” Justin shouts. “Of course not. I just wanted to ask… if we could take sex off the table for the next month or so while I’m working through some stuff.”

My chest contracts as the breath I didn’t know I was holding whooshes out of me.

“Oh my god. Of course. For as long as you need. I’m not with you for the sex, I’m with you foryou.”

I brush away a tear that escapes from the corner of my eye with a hand that’s trembling. Justin stares at me, horrified.

“You didn’t really think I’d dump you, did you?”

The truth is, I’ve been wondering for a while. Every time he comes away from a counseling session, he seems withdrawn. I decide to be honest with him.

“I have kinda been wondering if you were going to do that,” I admit. “You seem, um, a bit cold towards me on the afternoons when you’ve had therapy. I thought maybe…”

“Nothing like that,” Justin tells me, coming to me and winding his arms around my waist and pulling me to him. “Some of the stuff we talk about in sessions is… hard. I just need time alone afterwards to process.”

A whole lot of tension eases out of me. It’s hard dealing with all this. I don’t want to push him and trigger bad memories or shameful feelings, but sometimes I feel I’m standing on the outside, an observer of a process that’s going to affect my life too. And I’m holding my breath waiting to see whether we stand or fall.

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