Three choose two.
It always seemed the same.
She couldn’t have it all, so from which could she abstain?
One strong, one sweet,
one somewhere in between;
three lovers came, one after next, across the shifting scene.
Each one had something, deep within,
which she did so adore.
Yet always there was something else, she couldn’t but abhor.
Fret though she may, fret though she might,
the choice had to be made.
What would she cede, to never have, in this most vexing trade?
Which would it be, of her three loves?
Who shall at last prevail?
Come and see, the answer waits, in this our star-crossed tale.
★ ★ ★ ★
Chad was a man. A real man.
This prince of a fellow had brains, brawn and backbone; everything our lovely leading lady could want in a beau. He and Leigh (for that was her name), had met in Shanghai during a year abroad.
And what a year it was to be.
They had started out friends, platonic partners in the intoxicated blur that follows many young nomads in their romps around the world. Leigh watched as Chad pursued every bit of life with a zeal and fearlessness that put most men to shame. She would cling tight to him as he zipped on his scooter through the dense and bustling Shanghai streets. He would leap at the chance for any new experience, and she was usually swept along for the ride. Sometimes it was frightening, but mostly it was exciting.
Eventually the inevitable happened, and their friendship became something more. One fling led to another, and soon their evenings were punctuated with slumber parties of the adult kind. And if Chad was a real man in the Shanghai streets, he was a REAL man in the bedroom sheets. Fast and heady spring evenings became hot and heavy summer nights. There were ups and downs, but as the days grew slowly longer, their bond grew ever stronger.
A couple in all but name. At least, that’s how Leigh saw it. Every bit of free time that she could bear was spent with Chad (for Leigh was something of an introvert, and wouldn’t stand for suffocation). There were dinners and social events, weekend adventures to exciting places, new things learned and discussed. There were many things about their relationship that Leigh cherished. But, if she was honest with herself, the main event…
was the sex.
It was, undoubtedly, the best Leigh had ever had. She found herself anticipating it on Friday afternoons while staring through the window beside her intern desk. It was exciting and exhilarating, and almost intimate in a sensual sort of way. It was active, energetic, and intense. It was also…
… somehow empty.
There was something missing. Leigh couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, but there was always a nagging feeling that what she and Chad had was somehow… hollow. Perhaps it was the wall of emotional distance that guarded the deeper parts of Chad’s ego. Perhaps it was the fact that they never officially declared their partnership. Being eternally in this emotional and social limbo left the romance feeling draped in shadows. It was ignorable at first, but as time wore on, Leigh began to feel that something unclean lurked in the gloom.
She had thought to address it, but each time the subject drew near, Chad’s battlements were raised. It wasn’t so much being ordered to halt at the gate, but more a raising of the guard; a display of stony-faced defensive posturing making clear that the fortress was readying for trouble. Each time the result was the same. Leigh would conclude that this was a matter best left for another day.
After all, there would always be another day…
★ ★ ★ ★
So what did become,
in the end,
of this Leigh’s first romance?
In rhyming verse,
I’ll tell you now,
the tragic circumstance.
Before she knew,
the clock struck twelve
on Cinderella’s ball.
Her time was up,
home awaited,
no way she could forestall.
With summer’s end,
Shanghai was gone,
left half a world away.
Unfinished business,
scholastic needs,
meant that she could not stay.
And so she left,
and bade farewell
to friends and cherished beau;
Words left unsaid,
they mattered not,
she couldn’t help but go.
She was upset,
in no small way,
that much you will surmise.
But what may perplex,
was deep regret
shining in his eyes.
No glass slipper,
for her prince,
this was a true goodbye.
Whatever they had,
left lying dead,
in streets of old Shanghai.
★ ★ ★ ★
Flying home, across the world, Leigh’s heart ached. So many things unresolved. What had it all meant? Had Chad really cared about her? Could things have been different if circumstance hadn’t pulled them apart?
She was hurt. She was vulnerable. She needed time to put the pieces back together.
Enter Thomas.
He was sweet and caring; comforting and safe. There was nothing dangerous about this lover. There were no rough edges to cut herself on, just a soft blanket to dress her wounds.
Thomas was waiting for her at the airport, gauze in hand. He had come, unbidden, to see her the minute she landed on American soil. There was some weak pretext for his presence, some errand in the area, but it quickly became obvious his purpose here was to meet Leigh.
This was an old flame. She and Thomas had dated in the year preceding her travels abroad. He was two years older, and had been a soothing voice in Leigh’s ear through many a tumultuous time.
Their relationship was defined by distance from the start. After Thomas graduated and moved away, time together was compressed into short visits, slotted in when both of their busy schedules would allow. Despite this, he made sure Leigh never wanted for attention, a sympathetic ear, or simply a companion to discuss the trials and tribulations of daily life. Thomas would listen to her every trouble, great and small, with a compassion and tenderness that always put Leigh at ease. She felt so safe and comfortable with Thomas. No need to impress anyone, no question about the depth of his affection. So clear, so stable, and so secure.
Now he was back. Despite being left in the dust for Leigh’s lively year abroad, Thomas was determined to be with her once again. It was so easy to slip back into place with him. They knew each other so well. He would do anything to make it work. And so, with more a passive slide than active step, Leigh and Thomas rekindled the embers of what they had once been.
This lover was an academic. As Leigh’s own graduation approached, Thomas received his master’s from Harvard and went on to a full-time position at Carnegie Mellon. She had always admired his intellect. Chad had been smart, but in a different sort of way. Thomas was the kind of smart you received awards for; the kind of smart you could build a life on. He had a bright future ahead, and made it clear that he wanted her to be a part of it.
Leigh was introduced to Thomas’ friends, family, and anyone else who happened to be close at hand. Gone were the dark shadows of ambiguity that had tainted her days with Chad. She and Thomas walked in bright sunshine as he teased at the white picket fences that lay in their future.
There were but two things about this paramour which gave Leigh pause.
The first was an ignorable, albeit ever-present, issue. Behind a lectern, Thomas was impressive; behind closed bedroom doors, less so. It wasn’t so much his subpar effort and execution, as the pervasive lack of passion. Leigh, despite her best efforts, could not conjure up a physical attraction to Thomas’ pasty form. It didn’t help that she always had to be on top, doing all of the work. Thomas, it could be said, had difficulty rising to the occasion.
Then there was Thomas’ stoic strength and spirit of adventure, or rather, the complete lack thereof. A streak of fragility and timidity seemed to underlie every decision the scholar would make.
Climb a mountain? Too strenuous.
Travel to far away lands? Too dangerous.
Leigh wondered if, in the event they were waylaid by some attacker, she might end up having to defend Thomas. It was not an enamouring prospect.
Time passed, and the stability this love had once offered began to ferment into stagnation. The soft blanket began to feel stifling and oppressive. As Leigh contemplated her post-university career, questions about their future nagged at her mind.
And so, when the opportunity for change presented itself, she seized it.
Hong Kong. A fresh start. Something new and exciting.
A former classmate had helped illuminate a path for her there. It would be difficult, painful, exciting, educational, and liberating. Whatever hope this poor paramour had ended here.
When Leigh boarded that plane, the death warrant was signed and sealed. It would be months of cajoling back and forth, late-night long-distance discussions, breaking up and making up, but the countdown had begun.
As Leigh’s new life in that faraway place began in earnest, it was agreed that Thomas would come for a visit. A date was chosen, tickets were purchased, and the final act of this dying love was set in motion…
★ ★ ★ ★
On a warm fall day,
the stage was laid.
She had made up her mind, the scales were weighed.
This love, once so sweet,
long since turned sour.
End was nigh, awaiting only the hour.
The scholar had come,
chasing his prize.
Yet in his haste, he proved ever unwise.
Clutching too tightly,
driven by fear,
frustration and rage, sliced through his veneer.
In seeing him thus,
pure ire and spite,
the last of her love, went out like a light.
A fortnight’s long tour,
he spent thereat.
Days full of sadness, each night a new spat.
The finish was near,
end of his run,
next day he’d be gone, flown off with the sun.
One last excursion,
a day at sea;
a short social trip, concluded by three.
She told him the truth,
one day before.
They two were finished, their love was no more.
His temper was sharp,
harsh words sailed;
as though the sting of rejection, could be thus countervailed.
Yet one final slight,
he wouldn’t see.
On board that day, rode Leigh’s new love-to-be.
In secret they met,
for love’s first kiss.
Above, the scholar, sensed nothing amiss.
And so with day’s end,
they bid farewell.
Slam of a cab door, love’s final death knell.
He boarded the plane,
she at once gone;
to her new love then, next step — moving on.
And so did this death,
and birth collide;
heart leading on, she along for the ride.
★ ★ ★ ★
It had ended badly with Thomas. The ugly memories still stung at the back of Leigh’s mind. Her only solace was that it was over. The ties were cut, the bridges were burned, and she was free. Free to pursue something new. Free to leap into a new pair of waiting arms.
And whose arms awaited her?
A dashing new prince to sweep her off her feet? A fatherly guardian to play both lover and guide?
Yes… and no.
The final prince in our tale is, in fact, not a prince at all. This lover was a woman. Not a princess, nor a common girl, but a queen. Capable of fiery passion and warm tenderness; iron strength and velvet compassion. She was intuitive and intelligent. Hers was an understanding and spiritual intimacy that no man could muster. Every bit of closeness and affection that she had yearned for with Chad, every ounce of strength and courage that she had wished for in Thomas, was here. Sometimes it felt like she saw directly into Leigh’s soul.
Brea was her name. They had met soon after Leigh’s arrival in Hong Kong — a new colleague, that became a new friend, that became something more. Within weeks of their first meeting, they were finishing each other’s sentences. Before she knew it, Leigh could sense the familiar feeling of her willful heart prodding and jostling her insides about.
It was impatient, and would not wait until her vacillating hands delivered the death blow to the lame and sickly thing that she and Thomas had become. And so, before the scholar had made his final exit, she had confessed her feelings, and shared her first kiss with Brea.
She wasn’t perfect (for no humans are), but she was just right for Leigh. She knew how to be exciting in the good times, and comforting in the bad. Every thought, every wish —she seemed to know it before Leigh said anything aloud.
When they were at work, they were the most efficient of professional teams. When they were at home, they were the sweetest of lovers. When they were out with friends, they were the merriest of adventurers. She knew exactly how much space Leigh wanted, and when she wanted it; when she meant what she said, and when she meant something else; when to speak, and when to listen.
In a word, their love was perfect. All except one thing.
Leigh, was not a lesbian.
She was not bisexual, pansexual, asexual, or queer.
Leigh was straight. Straight as a board. Straight as a number two pencil. Straight as uncooked spaghetti. And no amount of hot water could change it.
She had tried. Leigh had considered all sorts of potions, devices and tricks. All to no avail. Our poor protagonist was horribly, helplessly, heartbreakingly heterosexual.
What was to be done? Surely such a thing could not last long? Surely the truth must shortly be discovered and bring all crashing down around our hapless heroine’s head?
As you may now guess, these matters of the heart are seldom so straightforward…
★ ★ ★ ★
And so begins, the last climax,
of our Leigh’s tragic tale.
An averse end, which she fought, but alas to no avail.
First one month passed, in this strange love,
then two, then three, then four.
There was no cure, for who she was, truth she could not ignore.
Before she knew, a year was gone —
laughter, smiles and tears.
She was so close, to Brea dear, yet growing was her fear.
For Leigh knew, somewhere deep within,
her heart’s roiling sea:
two minds without willing bodies, true lovers could not be.
Yet she waited, prolonged, delayed
confession of her soul.
Perhaps something, yet would change, leaving her and Brea whole.
She told herself, it was shallow,
to covet carnal form.
Given time, her selfish flesh, would embrace this strange new norm.
Yet as the months, marched ever on,
her unease turned to dread.
For Brea’s words, began to sign, that she was not mislead.
A gentle sigh, a soft remark,
a question half in jest,
“Do you truly, find me my dear, as lovely when undressed?”
At last the day, of judgement came,
unbidden and unplanned;
a simple chat, a chance comment, a question asked offhand.
Soon Leigh’s thoughts, came all pouring out,
the truth now known to all.
Unspoken words, now said aloud, took on a deathly pall.
In Brea’s face, she now could see,
their fate it did portend.
Near or soon, it mattered not, for this love now too must end.
No bitter fights, no fierce cross words,
just sadness and resign.
Too weary for, any more, of this played-out storyline.
And so it ended, this last love,
with a sigh, not a crash.
Time and place, meaningless facts, by end all was burnt to ash.
★ ★
★ ★ ★ ★
★ ★
A final verse, to share the fate,
of our luckless lady lead.
A tragic hand, fate dealt to her, despite nary a misdeed.
Leigh was alone, in the end,
of our three poor lovers’ tale.
No knight or prince, no king or queen, to survive the fervid gale.
Yet in this, she strangely found,
a warm silver lining lay.
With love’s flames now gone, smoke extinguished, there was a new pathway.
Caught within, these twisting trysts,
she’d forgotten who she was.
Who was Leigh, when she stood alone, beyond any lover’s claws?
Time was nigh, for her to find,
the answers that she so sought.
Only she alone, could do this task, freed from love’s binding knot.
Thus ends this song, ode to Leigh,
a ballad to see her free.
She will find her way, you worry not, this much I guarantee.
End
James B. Cutchin 