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Thirty Days & Dirty Nights

by Stephen Scorer 2 years ago in breakups
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A little bit of life writing.

Spring was looming much closer now, I was starting to look forward to the fresh April showers that seem to clear the air of those dark and grim wintry nights that everyone struggles to pull themselves through every year.

Thirty days had passed since the day I told my family the truth, the news that would change who I was, after all, it was still just a label that was often stigmatized by those who apparently are so knowledgeable. That day is forever etched onto my soul; it was fraught with lots of tears, first from my beloved mother, father and younger brothers, then again by myself as I gave a kiss and hugged my last goodbyes to my beautiful boys.

Thirty days on and I was living with a very handsome young chap, was I pulling above my weight ‘Probably’, James had helped me, persuaded me to make that decisive decision that would shape who I was and the man I would become.

Even though it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my once broad shoulders, I was suffering upstairs, physically I was in tiptop shape, but mentally I was going through hell, deeper and deeper. Did I do the right thing, would be the negative and often lurking thought that would show itself whenever it chose to, how could I destroy so many hopes and dreams, just so I could at least feel better.

I still carried on with my normal working life, ‘Normal, for me was getting to work for 3 am and then driving out into the night to deliver food and other various items around the schools, universities, hospitals and other fast food fed factories that I visited in Birmingham. By 10 am I would be on my way home, no rest for me though, when finished I would then go to the place James worked. His line of work was how can I put it, ‘Colourful’ to say the least, he looked after and helped girls who offered a very sensual massage to those much needy souls!

When I entered that parlour of pleasure I was welcomed by a strange odd feeling, the girls in the showroom were not busy working and oddly, James was not to be seen?

“He is in there” as one of the bustier girls, points with her… eyes!

“What is he doing in that room?”

He was in a working room with a male client or friend, either way, I felt a maddening rage of betrayal deep inside ‘Why would he do that, I thought that was all behind him’. The show had finally finished and out popped smirking James followed by a relieved male, shockingly I also knew this man, I just stood there, froze to the spot, showing a silent front whilst inside I was all a screaming chaotic. When our friendly client had left that seedy scene, James simply laughed and told me to leave.

“Why?” I said confusingly

This was followed by a slap across my face, not a man’s slap or even a woman’s slap for that matter, it felt more like a gentle stroke, maybe he was still in massage mode!

“Just go, get out, it is over”

I quickly left, not trying to show any weakness or emotion. I wandered around with so many thoughts running through my shattered and still confused head. Somehow, I managed to get myself back to the flat that we both shared, only to find that whilst I was away working in the early hours of that day, he had only gone and changed the locks on the doors.

I felt empty, my stomach was wrenching from the fear of loneliness, and I had nowhere to go. The world started to spin, the feeling of nausea quickly came over me; everything went blurry as I blacked out. I awoke to find myself still in work clothes and in my car, unable to remember how or when that happened. Still somewhat dazed from the earlier mayhem that morning, I looked out of the car window to find a beautiful, peaceful dusk scene that spread out over the valley of Llangollen.

My mobile must have nearly melted whilst I was away in another world, messages and missed calls galore, especially from my now new ex. I do not know why I went on to read some of those messages

‘Why would I put myself through that?’


I went from feeling dreadful despair to gritted teeth determination as for the anger, it again started to grow inside. Later I drove to work and after another long drive around the city with the Bull Ring, I opened my heart to a lovely old girl at work, explaining my whole life situation. With tears flowing, she surprised me by giving me a hug and telling me “It will be alright, you will see”.

The rest of that day was spent running around and searching for somewhere to rest my wretched soul, eventually, I found a nice bedsit, just right, a place to keep myself to myself. Nevertheless, within a few days, I had been tracked down like a limping lion still licking its wounds from the life-ending fur fight. James had expected me to just crumble and cry as I went running back to that previous life of family living and lustful lies. Jealous James was standing in front of me, ranting at me, telling me that I had no respect for what he did for me, to which I just laughed loudly, right back to his smug exploding face.


I was still laughing as I closed the door behind me, locking away the last thirty days of strife. Fifteen years pass on and how the time as changed, I am happy in life and in love, my lovely boys are no longer the strangers they once were, and the bonds between me and my mother and father have become stronger, closer, no untruths are needed any more to hide behind.

I often look back on those thirty dirty days and that night of all nights, the night I claimed my identity back.


About the author

Stephen Scorer

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