Lesbians Defined

Chapter 1: Fighting aith my homosexual husband

AUTHORS NOTE:
I will update my authors note when I get home. I just really need to post this NOW because oh my god.

I, Bethany Beal, had always admired my fellow sister in Christ, Kristen Clark. She had long, blonde, gorgeous hair, and eyes you could look into for forever. She was a godly woman, and a beautiful one at that. Her husband was so lucky. To be able to spend every day with the most gorgeous inside-and-out woman on this planet had to be a gift from God himself.

I wish I was one of God's favourites. But here I am in my lovely, rich white living room, fighting with my husband. "You're never around anymore!" I say with anger in my throat and tears of frustration in my eyes. "You're always with the gym boys!"

"I'm sorry, Bethy!" David yells back in retaliation. "Life has just been really hard on me recently, and I feel as those Richard, Adam and the rest of the boys really understand my struggles..."

"Struggles?" I ask, a whisper in my tone. "You're... struggling?"

"I didn't want to tell you." David replies, his tone softening, his body becoming more tense. "I didn't want to tell you, because I was afraid...I... I'm not a Mr Struggle, Beth, I promise!"

"A Mr Struggle. You're worried because you're a Mr Struggle?"  Anger bubbled up in my chest, overflowing out of my mouth and into my words. Fire overtook my chest in place of my heavenly heart. "You're way worse, David. I want you to know that. You're way worse."

"Worse?" David said. "How am I worse? I promised you, in our marriage vows that I would never be a Mr Struggle. I would never be Mr Unsaved. I would never be a Mr Anger, or Mr Obsessed, or Mr Pressure. I promised you I would be better!"

"You forgot one." I tell him cooly, looking up at him with resentment in my eyes. "Mr Talk. That's all you ever do. Talk. Talk to men, no less. David, I know you're gay. I know you secretly make out with the Gym Bros all the time. I know you and Adam have had sex, David."

"Me and.... Adam?" David asks, trying to feign his innocence.

But I, Bethany Beal, knew better. "It's Adam and Eve. It's not Adam and David. I know you think of him all the time. When you kiss me, you think of Adam."

"Bethany, that's..."

"You can't tell me it's not true David! You're a liar. Proverbs 12:22: 'The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in people who are trustworthy.' You're a liar, David. And you're gay! You're a gay liar!"

And that's when I buckle underneath it all. David's unholy manliness (or unmanliness because he is gay), his lies, his deceits... And the fact is that I knew this was happening. I knew that he liked to kiss his homies every night and I just let it happen. What does God think of me? I let my husband be gay. I'm a terrible godly woman. I'm a terrible wife.

I cry, and then I cry some more. My sobs carry out throughout the silent and pristine living room. I knew David and Adam kissed on one of the warm cream couches. This home used to be a happy place where we could be married and happy and warm. This room used to light up as soon as David walked in. But now it's a cold, unforgiving tonal shift. The cream-coloured couch, which I used to own, has become a cream-coloured couch that I have no control of.

David just stands over me as I sob. He doesn't pat my back or even think to console me. He just stands there awkwardly as I cry.

He knows that after we leave this room, our marriage is over. One of us will keep the house and the other will have to move away. Far away.

In the midst of all of my sorrows, I think of Kristen. My sister in Christ, my beloved best friend. She and her husband were both happy together. Her husband, Zachary was the luckiest man in the world. They never fight. They love each other. They were Gods favourite Christian couple. David and I, Bethany Beal, on the other hand, were not.

I think of Kristen as I get ready to go to bed. I might as well tell her about me and David. We're sisters in Christ, so we tell each other everything. As I lie down in bed, I text Kristen from my phone.

"Hi."

She immediately responds.

"Hey."

I smile, the blue light seeming warmer with every second I look at Kristen's reply. Maybe blue was the warmest colour

I immediately tell her all about the fight that occurred in our rich living room. How he's cheating on me, how he's a liar, how he's a Mr Struggle, how he's gay. I tell her all of it. I knew in my heart that she would never judge me. She would always take my side, no matter what.

"If you need a place to stay, feel free to room with me and Zachary for a while."

I did need a place to stay, and rooming with Kristen seemed heavenly. But to room with Zachary as well? Couldn't it just be us godly girls for a while? For... forever, maybe?

"We can have a sleepover in the living room for as long as you stay over. No Zachary included."

Now that sounded more like a plan that I could get behind.

"Sure. I'll start packing my bags. You don't mind if I come on over at 12 am, right?"

'No, not at all! I will be waiting! 😊"

My heart blooms as I pack my bags.  Kristen had planted the seeds for the flower within my chest. I pack everything that I could need in two bags. My modest clothes, my bible, the essential things I would need. It's not that it truly mattered, I would be able to start a new life with Kristen Clark, my sister in Christ. I check the clock that lay on my bedside table: 11 pm. The lights were out. The only sounds I could hear was the clock ticking and my homosexual husband snoring. He would always snore. He would never stop. I stopped getting full nights of sleep due to his snoring or due to him getting home at 3 am. He would always sneak back into bed, but I knew the truth.

And like David, I slipped out of bed and slipped my body into a modest and casual dress. I put an extra jumper on top in order to encase my body in warmth, and to appear more like the godly woman that I was. I covered my arms and grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. I would write David a note, telling him that I'm no longer staying with him. Maybe I'll move in with Kristen and start anew. I would metaphorically be resurrected, much like the lord Jesus Christ was. And much like the lord, I have been so forgiving. Too forgiving. I had forgiven David one too many times and that kindness has lead me to my execution. And yes, I needed to leave my nice rich home, but if Jesus can make sacrifices, then so can I.

I wrote David a goodbye letter and set out to my next journey. And I knew that Kristen Clark, my sister in Christ, would be waiting for me.