Jennifer

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Sometimes, when you're considering very final choices, there's only one person who really understands you.

Jennifer
Copyright 2011 by Heather Rose Brown
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(Note: This story was inspired by a Eurythmics song by the same name.)

I could smell salt in the air and felt an icy mist on my bare feet when I came to a wobbling halt at the end of the sandy path. I held my empty tequila bottle out at arms length. One side had a golden glow from the light of the distant beach house. The other side sparkled with starlight. I let it go.

A few seconds later, there was a distant tinkling sound, followed by the roar of another wave crashing below my feet. I blotted my cheeks with the back of my hand, then felt a strange giggle bubbling deep inside when I realized I was worrying about my mascara running.

Just as I was about to take step forward, a firm hand gripped my shoulder. Someone very close to the back of my ear said one word. "Jennifer."

My breath froze in my chest. I couldn't quite identify the voice, but it sounded eerily familiar. I turned and saw a woman wearing a beautiful purple gown that looked almost exactly like the one I had decided to wear tonight.

I looked into vivid green eyes I felt certain I'd seen before, and asked, "Who are you?"

She brushed her windswept orange hair out of her face as she smiled and said, "I'm you."

I stared at her for what felt like several minutes as I tried to think of reasonable response. Eventually, a thought waded through the alcohol sloshing around my head. "How can you be me? I'm me."

"I realize how confusing this feels. If it helps, you can think of me as a potential Jennifer."

"You mean, you're from an alternate reality?"

"Well, in a sense, yes, but not really."

"Oh ... so you're from the future?"

"Not exactly. The answer is a bit complicated, but if it makes things any easier, you can think of me as coming from the future or an alternate reality."

I tried making sense of what she had said, but eventually decided I really wasn't in the best state to deal with complex ideas. Instead, I asked, "What are you doing here?"

Although the other me continued to smile, there was a deep sadness in her voice as she said, "You were about to make a decision tonight. A very final decision."

"If you really are me, then you understand why I need to do this."

"I do understand, but I also know that you'll break your wife's heart when you disappear without a trace."

"Is that any better than having her discover what I've been hiding from her all these years?"

"Is it?"

I began sniffling as shame and frustration began to resurface. "I don't know. What I do know is I can't keep what I am hidden any more, but I also can't let my wife know I'm really a woman."

"Why can't you let her know?"

A warm line slid down my cheek as I said, "because then we'd need to get divorced."

"Why would you need to do that?"

"Because she's not a lesbian."

My mirror image let go of my shoulder and took my hand. "Does she love you?"

"Well, yes ... but I don't think she'd be able to love me as a woman."

"Why don't you let her make that decision?"

"I hadn't thought of that."

The other Jennifer squeezed my hand. "I know."

"But ... but how do I ask her?"

She nodded at the house I rented for my 'business trip', and said, "You could give her a call."

I looked over my shoulder and felt the velvety darkness calling me. After a few thoughtful moments, I turned towards the light I'd left on the back porch, then began walking back up the path, hand in hand with what I was hoping would be the future Jennifer.

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Comments

Jennifer

Bittersweet and poignant.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Where am I tonight?

Andrea Lena's picture

....could just as easily be named Andrea....I listened to the song; I love Annie Lennox, by the way! With my dress (imaginary at this point, sadly)of deepest purple. My inner Andrea has been speaking to me in the exact same way that Jennifer speaks to your dear one here. I'm still so so afraid to let my wife 'make that decision' that Jennifer speaks of here. Too utterly painfully close to home, and yet with so much encouragement and promise as well. I hope that my Andrea continues to hold my hand for my future Andrea as well. Thank you so much; you have no idea how much this blessed me today. I am weeping. Thank you!


Dio vi benedica tutti
Con grande amore e di affetto
Andrea Lena

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

painfully close to home?

I hear you there, hon. I'm glad it helped you, it sure helped me.

Dorothycolleen, member of Bailey's Angels

DogSig.png

Denying ourselves

We often compromise in order to keep the peace. Sometimes, others have the flexibility and love to accept, sometimes not. The trouble is that, until we take that life-changing decision, we really don't know.

A lovely story which summed up, in a few words, the dilemma that faces many of us.

Susie

My name isJennifer

My wife is.. well she is still my wife - I didn't drive into the bridge pylon.
I kneeled before her and sobbed my heart out.
She said, "We'll do it together."

We did - and that was 11 years ago - we've been married 31 years now.

Good comment, jenchris!

I loved your short story there. I've stood on my cliff and decided to tell her-she was very accepting, but then we both realized she's just as masculine as I'm feminine. I was very lucky to find her-ande it sounds like you were, too!

Wren

Very good story!

Very nice-short and evocative. I could feel the despair, and the hope. Loved it!

Wren

Thank you!

I'd like to thank everyone for the comments and kudos on this story. Annie Lennox is one of my favorite singers, and Jennifer is one of my favorite songs. I'd been listening to this song last week, and a story based on the lyrics began forming. It kinda simmered at the back of my mind for a while, then I wokr around 2am on Tuesday with the story almost fully formed in my head. I couldn't seem to get back to sleep with the story sitting there, so I got up and started writing. That's probably not the best way to write stories, but it seems to happen that way with me sometimes.