Patrick's Story, Part 2The turmoil I'm reading in response to my confession matches the turmoil in my heart. How could I do this to my dear Fyve? And her family, who have been nothing but amazing to me from the day I was born, almost (I've heard the story told). And young Sciks, what does this mean for the delightful and brilliant son Fyve and I created?
Maybe if I start from the very beginning I will understand how and where this all began.
~
I first met Fyve when she rode up to our house on her bike, huffing and puffing from the long ride up the hill. Her bright pink T-shirt would have been hard for anyone to miss (
remember how it matched my tie?) but her enthusiasm for life and friendships drew me in. Before I knew it our teen years were upon us and I was swept up in her huge family, going on dates, having my first kiss, the teenage hormones running through every pore of my body. When her family invited me over the day after my YA birthday and asked if I would like to move in, what was I supposed to say? Sorry, I love your daughter very much and can't imagine my life without her but no thanks? I wasn't the commitment type but somehow I felt I didn't really have a choice,
so I said yes.
After the wedding and everything settled down, I became restless, there had to be more to being a part of this weird, huge family? I tried my hand at the new instruments my new mother-in-law bought for the new stage at the Gym and fell in love with music but the family didn't take to kindly to my desire to play music all day and the gently suggested I get a real job. So I signed up to be a Stylist as a joke to their "real Job" suggestion. One of my band mates, Jeb Nichols, thought it would be funny, I guess, to constantly call the Salon and request a makeover from me. I have to admit,
he really needed the first one but I still can't believe he actually agreed to the no-shirt athletic wear fashion trend lie I told him.
As you can see looking back, he convinced me to play hookey from work for the rest of the day and we hung out. First, we hit the treadmills at the gym (a thank you goes to Fyve for pushing me to get into shape as a teen) where I found myself patting myself on the back for the brilliant no-shirt athletic wear fashion trend idea! Second, he invited me over to his place for a home cooked supper and I agreed, not that there was anything wrong with Grandma Therie's cooking but a night away from my huge new family sounded like fun.
Well, after dinner one thing led to another and something inside me came alive for the first time, something I had never even thought to look for before. That night I fell in love with a man named Jeb.
I know what you're all thinking, but what about Fyve, what about the love I have for her, what about her feelings for me, what about loyalty and trust and fidelity, and the little problem called the Immortal Dynasty?
Well, that's why I made my way back home to Fyve that night, sneaking in way past midnight and giving her a kiss good night as I slid under the covers with her.
~
I know that's just not good enough but for the first time in my life I felt alive and truly me, with Jeb I didn't have to conform to a set of rules and expectations, I didn't feel tied in to something I wasn't really a part of, I felt free to just be. Be happy, be me, be in love, be a friend, be a young man, everything I felt I couldn't be within the Sunburst house that lived by "the rules". Did I ever consider leaving? No. Honestly, it never even crossed my mind. I knew the rules when I agreed to move into the Sunburst house, maybe I had been a little too young and naive to truly understand the seriousness of the rules, but I knew the rules. Waking up every morning next to Fyve, my wife, was and is a delight and joy in itself, she was and still is the most beautiful and awesome thing in my life, there was no way I was willingly walking away from that. Time spent loving Fyve was full of future dreams, day-to-day activities, family, a woman's soft touch and unique feminine takes on all things life. I wouldn't have and I still wouldn't trade a single day of my life with Fyve for anything else in the world.
And then there's Jeb. Loving and being loved by Jeb made my life complete. His calls to the Salon for a makeover request continued week after week, and every day I would save his house for last knowing full well I wouldn't be going back to work that day. I had more fun being with Jeb than anything else in my life. Whether our evenings together resulted from a makeover request during the day or a gig/practice with the band in the afternoon, each evening was special and amazing in itself. We would watch TV or try out the latest movie at the Theatre or pummel each other with pillows. There would be no shortage of laughter or love. Some nights we'd even venture over to the Gym for a drink and a dance, maybe a workout on the treadmills.
Jeb added the little things to our relationship, things that Fyve and I never really desired to give one another. Where
I would serenade Jeb with my keyboard, he would buy fresh flowers for me.
It was like there are two very different sides to me and they existed in perfect harmony. Until my elder birthday.
~
I wake up Monday morning thinking about the talk with Jeb last night. I am a broken man, broken clean in 2, half of myself ripped savagely from the other half. Thank goodness I don't work on Mondays because I don't think I can face anyone today. Fyve is already at work so I have a few hours to hide out in our room and compose myself enough to face the family. It works just long enough for me to have breakfast and get out of the house. I spend the entire day wandering the outskirts of Twinbrook because there is far less chance of running into anyone if you hang out in the swamps. Monday night I find myself crawling into bed next to an elder Fyve. Now I hate myself for missing her last and most important birthday!
Tuesday dawns bright and sunny just like Monday. Work. Can I call in sick, do you think? Or maybe I should just retire? I did my time holding down a "real" job maybe it's time to move on? But then what do I do with myself all day in this house filled with elder Sunbursts? I drag myself out of bed and get ready for work, hoping against all hope no one will notice my face today.
It's only when I get to work that I remember
he works here! I did the only thing a hurting old man can do.
First, I threaten him with my new cane (I'm fairly certain he doesn't have one!):
When it doesn't have the desired heart attack inducing effect, I realize he doesn't know that I know! So, I tell him:
And then I let him have it, right there in the front lobby of the Salon, customers milling about.
I really want to fire him but don't because that would just give him more time to spend with Jeb. So I tell him he could stay on as long as I never hear a word about or see any indication of his relationship with Jeb. He takes it better than expected.
~
The next day, while eating my breakfast, Grandpa Wunn looks up from the morning paper and says: "Patrick, it says here your co-worker, Harlan, died of a heart attack last night while he was out for a walk in the school yard. I guess you'll be looking for a new Stylist this week."
I choke on my Fruit Parfait. My reactionary cough sends chunks of non-chewed fruit flying up the back of my nose. The burning in my nose almost, almost, drowns out the mixture of shock, guilt, and happiness welling up inside me. This is going to be one crazy day.
~
There it is, written out for the whole world to see. I wonder if I can convince Fyve to not read this until after she's had the chance to update you all on the comings and goings of the family this week. It will give me a chance to rehearse, and pack my things. Perhaps, you all will see me again. Or perhaps not. My life has been amazing, I've had the chance and joy of loving two wonderful Sim beings and I am a better man for it.
