Even though he can be aggressive, I worry about how he is with the girls he dates. He is such a pushover with girls. Some girls ask him to do things just to manipulate him. And if they turn on the tears, he turns into putty. They take advantage of him and get him to do things he otherwise would not do. When he is on a date and checks in with me, I have to encourage him to be assertive enough. He doesn’t realize that girls don’t like guys that are pushovers.
Last year, I secretly got my advisor at school to assign Mike and I to different classes, to get some relief from him. Mike was miserable, and made me miserable checking in on me at every opportunity. Since we have been so close and shared nearly everything all these years, being nude in front of each other was no big deal. But since I have started on hormone therapy, my body has changed. I am not crazy about the changes. My hips have gotten wide and my boobs have been growing. I am less comfortable with Mike seeing me naked than I used to be. Not only that, but as we get older, I don’t like the way Mike looks at me. He has a hungry look.
Once, I let him touch one of my boobs. Up until that time, we had never touched each other’s body in a deliberate way like that. As time goes on, he wants to touch my boobs, more and more. Not sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, it does feel really good. On the other hand, it seems naughty, like something we shouldn’t be doing. I really don’t know what the big deal is about them. They are just bags of fatty tissue. He occasionally talks about masterbating and ejaculating, which just freaks me out. He has been trying to talk me into masterbating, myself. I do touch myself, sometimes, but I really don’t want to talk to Michael about it.
When I think about a romantic partner, I would like to experiment. Mike thinks that we are so much alike, that we have to be together. I see where he is coming from, but sometimes I think it would be better to be with someone who thinks differently than me. I think that having a partner who is different would allow us to compliment each other, having different strengths and weaknesses. On the other hand, I love my brother a lot. I cannot imagine being without him. And strangely, I find that I am sexually attracted to him. When I fantasize about doing things with a guy, I find myself fantasizing about being with Mike. It’s complicated.
***
Mike:
As we get older, Makayla and I seem to be drifting apart. At least we are having more arguments. Nothing very big, but we used to think so much alike, that we never used to argue at all. Now that Makayla is on hormones, she can be so moody. It’s not just my opinion, she has noticed and makes mention of it, too. She cries more easily than she used to, and I get the feeling that she is holding back and doesn’t tell me everything. She gets frustrated with mom over the smallest things. She seems to be either over the moon happy or moody and depressed. It makes me feel bad for her. I just want her to be happy.
Mom is not handling the changes too well, either. It seems like mom is getting more moody, along with Makayla. She is working late more often and it feels like she is not at home very much. She cooks less for the family. Dad tries to pitch in, but he is a lousy cook. Makayla and I have been doing more cooking together, which is something that we both enjoy.
Friday night, mom is working late again. She comes home after supper, and Makayla reheats some of the lasagne that we had at dinner for her. When mom is about done eating, dad asks that we all gather in the kitchen. The way he says it, feels ominous.
We all sit at the kitchen table. Makayla and I look at each other, not having a clue what this is all about. Mom is looking down at her plate, idly making figure eights in the residual tomato sauce from her lasagna with her spoon. I can tell that her mind is a thousand miles away. Dad begins, “Your mom and I have something we need to talk to you about.” He looks at mom, then looks down at the table. Looking up again, he sighs before continuing. “We have some bad news to share with you. There’s no easy way to say this, so I will just say it. Your mother and I have decided to separate. We are getting a divorce.”
Dad could not have surprised or hurt me more if he had punched me. I didn’t see it coming. Dad looks about as sad as I have ever seen him. I look at Makayla and she is just as stunned as I am. Tears are welling up in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. Seeing her hurting makes my heart sick. Then a question occurs to me, where does this put Makayla and I? Do we stay with mom? Or do we stay with dad?
Then mom looks up and begins to speak. “I know it seems hard right now, but it will be for everyone’s good, in the long run.” She pauses for a moment before going on. A hundred questions go through my mind, but I cannot verbalize a single one of them. “Your dad and I are separating while we are still friends. We are afraid that we might come to hate each other if we stay together. We don’t want that. My boss has offered me a position with a promotion at the Greenville office. He found me a cute little house to rent nearby. He wants me to start there on Monday.” At that, Makayla begins to melt down. Her tears spill over, running down her cheeks, and she sobs uncontrollably. She looks into my eyes with the most devastated look that I have ever seen. My heart literally hurts within my chest.
I thought that things could not get any worse, but then they do. Dad says, “You are probably wondering where that leaves you two.” Now dad looks nervous and averts his gaze to the floor. “Mom and I have talked at length and gone back and forth, considering different scenarios. We felt like it would be best for everyone if Michael stays here with me and Makayla goes to live with her mother in Greenville.”
Now I really wished that my dad had punched me hard in the gut. That would have hurt less. And I would be able to get over a punch after a few minutes. Separating me and Makayla will hurt for as long as we are apart. Makayla cries out in a voice that I can only describe as a wail, “No! You can’t separate us like that! I can’t take it!” With that she breaks down into uncontrollable, hiccuping sobs. I am afraid to speak, afraid that I will lose control. I’m not sure whether I will break down and cry, or get mad and hurt someone.
Mom and dad look at each other with some uncertainty, and I wonder if they will change their mind. I don’t think this is the reaction that they expected. Then mom speaks, “I know this is hard, but you will get used to it. It would be easier for us to keep you together, but we felt that it would be best for you two to be apart for a while. It’s only another year and you two will be going away to college, anyway. My boss has been wanting to move me to the office in Greenville for some time. It will mean a nice promotion for me. You should look at it as a new adventure. You two are mature enough to handle this.”
I look from mom to dad, gaging their resolve. Neither one seems inclined to budge on the issue. Now I feel myself getting angry. “Why can’t you two stick it out until we leave for college! Is it that bad between you two?” I know that those words sting, but I don’t care. The shock on mom’s face is plain. Seeing Makayla fall apart like this has me riled up, and I can’t take it. I have gone this far, so I decide to twist the knife. “Don’t you think you are being a little selfish?”
Dad speaks up, “Mike, we have considered everything. It would have been easier to stay together for another year until you left for college. But the way things are going between your mother and I, we would not be able to be the kind of parents that you deserve. And we considered keeping you and Makayla together, living with me for a week, and then going to live with your mom for a week. But how would that work with school? Greenville is an hour and a half away. Your mom and I both agree that it is best for you to spend a year apart before you go to college, anyway.”
Then mom says, “Let’s not discuss this any more tonight. We should sleep over it and get used to the idea for a few hours. We will talk about it some more, tomorrow. I know you must have questions.” The way mom said this brooks no argument. I don’t see how I can sleep, with all the thoughts whirling about in my head. My gut hurts and feels like it is tied up in knots. Makayla avoids looking at me, and her eyes are red from crying. I have never seen her so devastated.
Without another word, I hit the shower to prepare for bed. As the hot water runs over my body, I wonder, “Is it really better for Makayla and I to be apart?” Maybe there is some truth in that. We are pretty much adults, now.
I crawl into bed, my mind still reeling. My bedroom door opens, and I see by the light coming in from the hall that it is my dad. He comes and sits down on the edge of my bed. He places a hand on me, remaining quiet for a couple minutes. I do not trust myself to speak, afraid that I will say something that I will later regret. Finally he speaks confidentially to me. “You didn’t see that coming, did you, son? You had no idea that your mother and I were having troubles?”
“Nope, not a clue,” I say.
“I’m so sorry, Michael. I can see how much it hurt you and Makayla. Seeing you two like that felt like someone drove a nail into my heart. I really wish things were different. But your mother and I have been growing apart and I’m afraid your mother doesn’t love me anymore. She won’t admit it, but I am sure she has been having an affair with her boss at work. I think that is why he is giving her a big promotion and moving her to the Greenville office. I saw some emails between them that make me all but certain what is going on between them. I didn’t want to burden you with this, but I felt I owed you an explanation.” I hear the sadness and hurt in his voice. We are both silent for a moment, in the dark. It feels like we are communicating something, unspoken. I’m not sure what it is, but I feel a connection between my father and I, like I have never felt before.
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