Wisdom by Will Stanton

          Among the GLBT community, young guys especially have a reputation, justified or unjustified, of being fickle, flitting from one trick to another, supposedly looking for love but, in actuality, looking for sex.  What supposedly counts is all physical, that is, good looks, good body, and being well endowed.  Whatever each person thinks he is looking for in the other person or, for that matter, in himself, most likely will not be found through such pursuits.  If, to some degree, this phenomenon is true, then this can be one aspect of gay identity that might prove to be a hindrance in finding what most human beings actually are looking for and need: love.

          Real love, true love, may not come along so often; and one must keep all his senses alert to its possible existence.  If not, then a cherished opportunity may be lost forever.  Of course, to accept and benefit from true love means having developed a certain degree of maturity and a valid set of values.  One-night stands probably are not the right priority for achieving love.  If a long-term, loving relationship is desirable, then one must try to see all the attributes of people above and beyond the mere physical.

          I am going to tell you a story.  It’s a story about somebody else, but I never have told it before.  Also, I’ll not mention the person’s name in respect for his privacy. 

          After I lost my partner from lung cancer, I became profoundly sad and depressed.  I always had been too isolated because of my shy nature and also from my having worked alone in a home office.  Reaching out to other people was hard for me.

          I looked for a quiet place where I could go to get out of the house.  I discovered, what was then called, “Garbo’s,” a little, downstairs restaurant off of Downing.  Off the main dining room was a smaller room, little used, and that is where I chose to sit for dinner all by myself.  On return visits, and with encouragement from the proprietor, I found courage eventually to migrate to the other room where, upon occasion, I found people to talk to.

          It was then that I began to see from time to time an elegant looking gentleman who also usually sat by himself but also, at times, had one particular friend, of perhaps about forty, join him.  I observed that this man was the only patron who always was dressed impeccably in a suit.  One evening when his friend joined him, I overheard a dinner conversation that covered many topics that are of interest to me, mostly in the realm of the arts.  I was invited to join the two and gladly accepted. 

          It turns out that the younger man was polite and pleasant enough, and he also shared some of my same interests, although he evidently had less experience and knowledge about the topics than either his older friend or I.  More so, there seemed to be a certain spark lacking in his conversation as though he might not have a real passion for any of the subjects being discussed.  Or perhaps, lacking spark just was his nature.  While still noting that fact and almost to my embarrassment because I did not wish to offend the younger man, the older man and I engaged in enthusiastic conversation, realizing that we both had the same degree of enthusiasm and passion.

          I saw the gentleman there for dinner only a few more times, once or twice with his friend, and occasionally alone, during which time I joined him.  It was at our very last encounter that he told me a most personal story, a story that has moved me deeply ever since.

          That evening, as we walked out the door, he stopped and said, “I want to tell you something.  I have to tell you that you are the person I have hoped for many years to find, and I wish that I had met you before I had met my current friend.  You finally are the person I have been seeking, the person who has all the qualities of personality and mind that I cherish.  I would prefer to choose you as my special friend - - - but I can not.  I can not because that would betray the friend that I already have, and that is something that I just can not do.”

          At this point, he literally burst into tears and, with great effort, standing there in the evening light, he told me his story.  When he was very young and very beautiful, he was an up-and-coming ballet dancer in New York City.  He was successful and very popular.  Many people flirted with him, but the person who wooed him successfully was a stabile, mature, well-mannered man who demonstrated through his speech and actions that he had the dancer’s best interests at heart, that his interest in him was not selfish or self-centered.  Everything possible was done for him, helping with his career, introducing him to the right people, providing him with a real home, and freely giving the gift of genuine love and support.  My storyteller explained that he understood that his partner truly cared for him but that his own immaturity and lack of full appreciation of that love eventually resulted in emotional tragedy.

          He continued to tell me that, one day, he spotted another very young ballet dancer who was quite beautiful and charming.  He immediately became smitten with him and began flirting.  One thing led to another, and eventually they decided to become a pair.  He told his loving partner what had transpired and, albeit with some pangs of guilt, bid him farewell. His former partner did not protest, did not argue, did not accuse, but instead quietly resigned himself to his fate, although the hurt look in his eyes never was forgotten.

          Of course, the new flirtation did not last long, nor, as the years went by, did any of the subsequent ones.  So eventually, my storyteller mostly was alone. 

          Some years later, he received news of his late partner’s passing.  The reason that he was informed of the death was because the entire estate had been bequeathed to him.  His late partner had named him as his sole heir, and he never changed his will.   For the rest of his life, he had remained faithful to his true love despite his having been abandoned.  It was upon hearing this news that the full impact hit him as to the love that he once had and had lost, the depth of love and loyalty he once enjoyed but thoughtlessly had tossed aside for endless pursuits of far less value.  And then, still in tears, he said, “And that is why I’ll never betray anyone again.”

          I did my best to comfort him and to show him understanding and empathy.  Once my words seemed to have had the needed effect, he expressed his appreciation and finally bid me farewell.  Head down, he slowly walked to his car and departed.  He never came back to the restaurant.  I never saw him again.  His story, however, has stayed with me and haunted me ever since.

© 3 Dec. 2012

About the Author

I have had a life-long fascination with people and their life stories.  I also realize that, although my own life has not brought me particular fame or fortune, I too have had some noteworthy experiences and, at times, unusual ones.  Since I joined this Story Time group, I have derived pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group.  I do put some thought and effort into my stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.