Ashleigh Anpilova


Ducky believes he is a fake.

An established relationship story.

Written: November 2010. Word count: 500.



A fake. That is what I am a fake.


Everything about me is fake. Oh, not in respect of the fact that I am British, went to Eton and later to Edinburgh Medical School and am a qualified surgeon and certified Medical Examiner. None of these facts are false. However, in all other matters - important matters - I am a fake.


A fake. That is what I am a fake.


I pretend that I like women. I talk about the odd woman who has passed through my life; I let people believe they were lovers of mine. I flirt with women young and older. However, I am in fact gay and always have been. I have never fallen asleep in a field of poison ivy with a woman. I have never kissed, beyond the fraternal kiss, touched beyond that of a gentleman's touch or bedded a woman.


A fake. That is what I am a fake.


I pretend that I am happy with the status of the relationship I have with Jethro. One that gives him carte blanche to date and bed any and all the women he wishes to. However, I am not happy, not at all. It hurts me deeply. But I say nothing; I let him think that I am content with how things are. That I am happy just to have him when he wishes to be with me.


A fake. That is what I am a fake.


I pretend that it does not matter if a friend lets me down, breaks an arrangement or ignores me for weeks on end because something else comes up. However, it does bother me; it hurts me. In many of my friendships, I feel I do all the giving and none of the taking.


A fake. That is what I am a fake.


I prete- As the sound of the phone ringing interrupts my thoughts I glance at my watch. It is nine o'clock; the time Jethro was due to arrive. I know it will be he on the phone.


It is.


A fake. That is what I am a fake.


I pretend.


He tells me that Anthony arrived on his doorstep, just as he was leaving to come to me, to tell him about his meeting with his father. He tells me that he couldn't just tell him to go away. He tells me I know he would rather be with me than with Anthony. I tell him I of course I know. I put the fake smile into my voice, indeed onto my face as if he could see me, as I lie to the man I love and tell him of course it is all right. Of course I understand. However, it is not all right and for once I do not understand. Instead I am hurt and angry at the way he treats me. How he puts me second. How he knows I won't make a fuss.


A fake. That is what I am a fake.

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