Warning: homophobia and transphobia in the second half (talk, no slurs)

***

The guy's name is Patrick. His first messages ease seamlessly into a conversation about travels. He's an amateur photographer, Edwin learns. Mostly nature, some artistic shots. It's a relief to talk to someone who doesn't know about his divorce, who knows he's gay but doesn't ask questions. Patrick is a few years older than him and in a weird way, that's comforting too.

The young guys who have messaged him are flattering – even if they've only said "hey" – but the fluster morphs and mixes with discomfort and insecurity. It's a compliment that young, hot guys like that are interested in him, but he feels a little like a fetish too – or a possible sugar daddy – and it reminds him how inadequate he'd be in bed. He's not the experienced man they expect.

With an older guy like Patrick – Patrick is likely experienced, but it's different. He won't judge him for his age, or his appearance. He's old enough to understand why Edwin stayed in the closet for so long. There's no expectation that he'll be more experienced – he's not planning to sleep with Patrick, but when he's ready, he'd want a guy like him. Older, not crazy hot, friendly, patient.

While Patrick approached him as a potential friend, his profile is geared more towards hook-ups. He shows off his hairy, muscular upper body and wears leather. He definitely works out because you don't have that body at 60 without effort. Edwin is not sure what to think about the leather. It seems more appropriate for a biker gang, but who's he to judge? Patrick has been nothing but kind.

They keep talking over the course of several weeks. It's the only reason Edwin doesn't delete Grindr because he ignores all other messages that are too generic to strike up a conversation. They talk about sports, jobs, politics even, and Patrick brings up his friends.

"We should meet up sometime," he writes. "You'd fit right in with me and my friends." Edwin doesn't know how to reply. Fit in how? Gay? Over fifty? But he wants that: meeting people, making gay friends. Didn't Eliane say that? Like with the LGBT bar, he will only know one person and be out of his element, but they'll all be older men. Gay men, he assumes. Maybe he should ask that.

"Are you all old and gay?"

"Speak for yourself 😊. What makes you think I'm old? It's the chest hair, isn't it?"

Edwin huffs. He'll take that as a yes. "Actually it was your back's creaking that's audible even here 😉."

"Dammit. I hope you grow older faster so you'd need hearing aids for that." That's ... Edwin ignores that. He's not witty like Patrick. His phone pings with a second message: "Don't worry about it. We're just a bunch of old bears. I'm not throwing you in the deep with the youngies."

Edwin knows what bears are now, and that Patrick is one, but he doesn't have enough hair for it. Still, he can see why he'd fit in since he's more of a jock type. A nerdy and tame jock who is settled into a comfortable routine. "That's a relief. So you consider yourself old after all? 😊" He might not be witty, but let nobody say he hasn't got a drop of humour!

***

Edwin's parents found out about the divorce when they called, asking to visit. It was Thursday evening and the light of the setting sun glinted on his TV screen. Edwin bookmarked his page and took a sip of his wine.

"Are you free next Sunday?" Dad was a corpulent guy, but he was remarkably soft-spoken. He was no doubt sitting in the corner of their worn, brown couch, in the spot that got the most sunlight and where he always made his phone calls. Mum would be sitting next to him, close enough to hear what Edwin said if he spoke at a normal volume. She'd have told dad to call – she never called herself. She wasn't timid, so Edwin had always wondered why. Did she hate phone calls, like Tamara? Or was it a misplaced idea to let the men talk? It was even more absurd because she'd comment on everything, no matter if she agreed or disagreed, hiss at dad what he should say, and more than once she'd demand the phone and take over the conversation.

"Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you." He hadn't. "Ellen and I are getting a divorce." He had postponed this talk for as long as he could and he was surprised it was only happening now, months into the paperwork carrousel and already living at his apartment.

"I'm sorry? You're ... A divorce?" Dad sputtered.

"A divorce? What's he talking about?" Edwin could hear mum's voice.

Dad muffled the phone, but his voice was still loud and clear. "He said they're getting a divorce, he and Ellen."

"What? Why?"

"How should I know? He didn't say." Dad was agitated.

"Ask him," mum hissed.

"So ... uhm, I thought you two were good? She has always been a good wife, right?"

Edwin took a moment to breathe. Ellen could never be reduced to a 'wife'. "She has. But there's more to a relationship than that. We're – We mutually decided this was the best course of action for both of us."

There was a faint noise and Edwin imagined his parents looking at one another. His heartbeat was ramping up already. He couldn't beat around the bush forever. Eventually, mum replied directly into the phone: "But what more could you want? Think about your children!"

"It's not ... more I want, but ... different."

"But what could you want differently? Don't tell me it's excitement, Edwin. You're too old for a midlife crisis." Mum's voice when she was scolding him was still the same as forty years ago. "Is there another woman?" He couldn't even deny that before she went on: "That happens all the time in marriages, but the point is that you don't give in. You promised your lives to each other, not to give in the first time your loyalty is tested."

"Mum! I ... I'm gay."

For a second, Edwin could hear imaginary crickets and then mum and dad's reactions burst out simultaneously. "You're joking," dad rumbled. "How's that possible?" mum exclaimed. Edwin hated how similar both of those were.

"You like women! You married Ellen! You have two children! You're normal. How can you be gay?"

"Those ... are not related." He could have been bisexual too, but that would not help him here. "I love Ellen, but I have only ever loved her as a friend. And I have now realised that."

"But that doesn't make you gay! You could like other women." If there weren't a thousand needles pricking his skin, Edwin would laugh at how mum grappled for arguments.

"But I don't. I know I'm gay." The feigned confidence came easier when other people doubted him.

Silence. Then, softer: "You really are? But how do you know? How do you know it's not a ... a phase?"

"A phase? At my age?" Edwin chortled, though it felt almost like a sob.

"You never know. People do strange things all the time." Edwin imagined her shrugging in that typical way of her, jerking her right shoulder up. As if he'd go through a divorce on a whim.

"The only choice I'm making is to be honest about what has always been there. And it's not fair to Ellen that I would hold her back." For several moments, Edwin only heard quiet breathing and he clenched his grip on the phone.

Eventually, mum sighed. "Well, it's not like we can force you. I'd rather you stay married – you could suppress those urges, you know – but if Ellen's on board with this ... lifestyle of yours, there's nothing we can say or do. I hope you won't regret it and that this won't ... ruin you." Edwin consciously relaxed his muscles.

"And how does dad think about it?"

Before mum could have passed the phone, the reply came through. "You're crazy, Edwin. I don't like this. I'll wait until you grow out of this. May God bless you and make you see reason."

"Yes, may God bless you." Mum's voice softened, in that penetrating way that is meant to persuade. "You're a good man. I hope you won't throw that all away." Edwin knew she really meant that he was a good Christian, but that ship had sailed long ago. He wasn't even sure his faith had ever been sincere.

***

That was weeks ago. They hadn't come to visit, but now it is dad's birthday and his presence is expected at their usual celebration. Edwin has considered excusing himself, but he'd rather face them now than postpone this second confrontation. He's a man, not a coward.

Mum opens the door. Last year he had come with Ellen and their daughters, but now he's alone. He feels naked.

"Edwin!" Mum kisses him squarely on his cheeks. The warm welcome surprises him, but as she ushers him into the house and takes his coat, chattering about his dad and their plans and the neighbours, it seems she's going to ignore the metaphorical rainbow elephant. "How are Sandra and Tamara? Are they busy? How are Sandra's wedding plans coming along?"

"Tamara has a game today and Sandra's busy with her wedding. They've both been well. Growing up." He doesn't tell Sandra hadn't picked up when he called and only sent a terse message that she had an appointment for the flowers. The longer it lasts, the more it burns that she has still not forgiven him for – lying? He doesn't even know anymore. Tamara had wanted to skip her volleyball game because she's well aware of his parents' opinions, but he didn't want to subject her to any fights or strain her relationship with her grandparents, so he had insisted she played.

"They are, aren't they? They have become such lovely young women. And I'm so happy that I can see Sandra get married. That boy of hers is very nice. A little quiet, but polite. And handsome." She laughs. "And Tamara still has no boyfriend?"

"Not that I know. But she's young and if she's happy, then I'm happy. Partner or not."

"Of course. She has time and I'm sure she'll find someone." Mum leads Edwin into the kitchen and hands him a bottle of wine and a few glasses. She picks up a cheese platter and they enter the living room, where dad sits in the fauteuil. On the couches and the dining table chairs that have been placed around the coffee table, Edwin recognises aunt Maria, uncle Jos, uncle Wilfried and the next-door neighbours.

"Is Arno not coming?"

Mum shakes her head and puts the cheese platter down. "He's gonna be a little late. He got stuck in traffic. Femke called to say it might be a while. Come, give me those glasses and I'll pour you one. Anyone else?"

Edwin gives dad a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday! I put the envelope on the kitchen table."

"Thanks for coming."

"You not feeling old yet, Edwin?" uncle Wilfried shouts.

"Only in body, never in mind," Edwin jokes. He settles on a chair with the glass of wine mum has offered.

"Of course. Don't we all?" Everyone laughs. "In my mind, I'm still twenty." More laughter. "How are Ellen and the girls? Why aren't they here?"

"They're well. Sandra had an appointment for her wedding and Tamara had a volleyball game. Ellen –" It only sinks in now that he will have to come out again. Here, every time he meets someone who knew him and Ellen, every time someone wants to know if he's married. For the rest of his life, he will always have to consider this one decision. He could lie now, but it seems like the easy way out and he's tired of lying. He doesn't want his parents to think he has changed his mind. "I have come out as gay, so Ellen and I decided it would be better for both of us to divorce."

"You're gay?!" Uncle Wilfried's head swivels to look at mum. "You knew this?"

She nods tightly. "He told us a few weeks ago."

"And you're okay with it?"

"Wilfried!" aunt Maria interrupts. "Don't be that scandalised. We can be progressive. You're only proving that you are old in mind."

Uncle Jos nods. "I used to have a buddy in the army who was you-know. He never said something, but we all knew. Very normal guy. He could beat any of us in arm wrestling. I think he got married when it was allowed."

Edwin's chest swells. After Tamara, this is the first clear support from his family. Arno had not been judging or homophobic, but they've not been close since they were small children and Edwin is not sure to what extent Arno would defend and support him. "Exactly! I'm not any different than I was before."

"I guess," uncle Wilfried grumbles. He gives Edwin a slow once-over. "You do look the same. Not like any of those men who'd be better off as women."

"Yeah, I'm glad you're not like that," mum adds. "Those people are just making fools out of themselves. If you're a man, you should look and act like one." Everyone nods but aunt Maria. The neighbours have been so silent Edwin had almost forgotten them.

"I've never understood that," dad says. "Isn't the whole point that they're men who like men? Why would they wear make-up and dresses and act like women? You just make women not want to date you and gay men don't want to date you either. If they wanted a woman, they would have gotten a real one."

"I don't understand it either," Edwin replies. "I don't know anyone like that." He remembers the feminine guy at the bar who had flirted with him. Vincent?

"If I were you, I'd keep it that way. You can do better than those types of friends." Dad nods a few times, to reaffirm his point.

It's silent for a moment until the bell signals Arno, Femke and the twins have arrived and suddenly the room's alive with chatter. Arno hugs Edwin briefly and says: "You look good." Edwin hears everything implied in those three words and smiles.

***

Author's Note: For this week's recommendations, we have Bell Tower by smokeandoranges, which has gorgeous descriptions, perfect world-building and a relatable protagonist!

About to give up hope on ever finding her path in life, Janine finds her world upturned when an old woman shows up at her door, claiming to know things about their city's ghost infestation. It's a harmless mystery nobody has yet solved... but few know it might not stay harmless for long.

And if you want more dark vibes and LGBTQ representation, check out No Sleep in Dreamland by flowerghostqueen.