Jack was looking forward to a casual night out. His recent nocturnal outings were total disappointments. Tonight was going to be different. Just a nice, stress-free evening. Hearing the doorbell ring at ten past eight, he grabbed his jacket and keys. He opened the door but there was no one there. Phil's house was in darkness.
Jack sat at his computer desk in the dining room. He didn't know what to make of that. He didn't have long to think about it though. The doorbell rang again. He thought Phil might have forgotten to turn something off in his house. Again, his porch lay empty when Jack answered. Just as he was closing the door, confused as ever, he spotted something on the ground. It was an envelope weighed down with a little wooden trinket. It was from Phil then.
It didn't relieve his confusion one bit but he hoped the contents might. He opened the envelope and found a letter written in Phil's scrawl. His handwriting was nothing short of appalling given his talent in carving tiny details. The letter read:
"Jack,
I don't know what I'm doing. I can't go out tonight. I just can't deal with this.
Phil"
Jack paid careful attention to the wooden dog in his hand, hoping he could gain some understanding. Maybe it gave a clue as to what Phil was talking about. The letter certainly didn't leave a decipherable message. Finally, Jack decided it must have been a random piece Phil picked up to keep the note from blowing away. He knew to leave Phil alone though. If he wanted to talk, he would have cancelled face to face. He decided he would paint for the evening. He needed to take his mind off Phil. The evening's events troubled him.
While painting let Jack's mind roam a little, he couldn't get Phil off his mind and it showed in his creativity. He was in his one-car garage painting Phil with a little dove sitting in his openly cupped hands. He knew Phil was severing his ties with Linestone and he wanted to do something to help him. In beautiful lettering, he painted "Freedom Is Choice" across the top of the piece.
"Wow" murmured Phil. He was standing at the garage door watching the finishing touches making their way onto the canvas. Jack, who had been signing a corner of the painting, jumped a little upon hearing the voice. His signature ended with a harsh blob. He turned around slowly and saw Phil crouched at the door with tears in his eyes.
"What's wrong, Phil? I didn't want to call over because I thought you would want time alone"
"I'm not gay, Jack" muttered Phil, hardly audible.
"I know you're not gay, Phil. What's the problem? Do I make you uncomfortable?" Jack was heartbroken, desperately trying to make sense of Phil's odd statement.
Phil continued "I was jealous when I saw you leaving for your date last night. I've never met anyone like you. I've had girlfriends I've been attracted to and felt no connection with and I feel such a deep connection with you but I'm not attracted to men. I can imagine us growing old together and always enjoying each other's company but the idea is so terribly flawed. It's unfair to spring all of this on you and I'm sorry. I just needed to tell you how I feel. I owe you the truth. You've been so open with me, even though I haven't given you the same honesty"
So much for a stress-free evening. There were no words. Jack slumped in a chair and tried to wrap his head around everything. It was going to be a long night.
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