The Lie

DNF @ 12%



I'm quite interested in the concept of this memoir, but I just don't have it in me to read such a book with an unreliable narrator. I can't trust that his wife was truly as terrible as she's portrayed, because the portrayal is contradictory within the same page.

For example, the author originally claims that he never bothered to have male friends or hang out with them, because he just knew his wife would resent those men due to her jealousy issues. Issues, mind you, that he claims are so extensive he didn't even get to spend time with extended family without her harping on him jealously. That paints the portrait of an abusive piece of crap who doesn't deserve to have a spouse at all, because woman or not hell no you don't get to deny your partner friendships and family! But wait, he says he ‘knew' she would resent those friends, and claims she was so utterly jealous...

During my marriage, I never pursued a boys??? night or a poker night. I already knew Katherine would resent them. She was jealous of relationships that existed outside of our marriage, as if there were only so much of me, and she didn???t want to offer up a slice to anyone else, including extended family. I had not seen my mother for years, but that was a more complicated story.

begging

not actually wife-imposed

Once, Katherine and I were sitting at a bar on a ???date night,??? a chance to get away from the children when they were toddlers, for a few hours. We began chatting to a stranger sitting next to us, the alcohol had melted the invisible wall between us. Katherine told the man I had no male friends. ???Would you be Bill???s friend???? she asked him. It sounded so desperate, and it was so pointed, the question, that it impaled me. ???All I need is you,??? I whispered to her, and for a while, this seemed to be true enough.

By his own admission.

He offered up his friendship readily, in a way that I had never experienced with a man before. I could count on one hand the number of close friends I had, without even uncurling my fingers. Once you got past the wall around our marriage, there was the one I kept up around me. Enzo ignored the walls and walked right through them.

He was like Michael, a boy I became friends with in high school. On the first day of biology class, Michael sat behind me, tapped me on the shoulder, and whispered jokes in my ear, without even introducing himself. It was as if we were friends before the introduction was made. Enzo was like this.

monster

I built a wall around my friendship with Enzo, hiding it, but the things we hide become desperate to be seen. When I phoned Katherine the next day and slipped up by mentioning that I had spent the night at Enzo???s house, she was incensed.
???Why on earth would you sleep at his house????
???Isn???t it better than driving home drunk????
???You got drunk????
???Well, not drunk really. I mean, I had a couple of beers and a limoncello.???
???A limoncello? What the fuck is that? When did you become Italian????
I took a deep breath.
???Are you there????
???I???m here, and you???re not. Why does it matter if I slept at his house????
???Men don???t sleep at other men???s houses, especially when they???re in their forties. Jesus Christ, Bill, act your age.???
???It isn???t just Enzo???s house, you know. He???s married and has a child.???
???All the more reason you shouldn???t be getting sloppy drunk and sleeping at his house.???
???I wasn???t sloppy drunk,??? I mumbled, rubbing at the beer stain on my shirt.
???Bill, I???m just trying to hold things together here, and you???re running around town with Enzo. He???s ten years younger than you. Don???t you think he just feels obligated? Don???t you think he finds you, I don???t know, pathetic????

was

just some story

A brief but heartfelt memoir from a man who could have been my high school classmate (i.e. we're both in our 50s). I ache for the pain Dameron caused his wife of 20 years, and he pulls no punches about how he deceived her and even used her weight as an excuse to not sleep with her. But I can't help feeling even sadder for Bill himself, living a lie for so many years because of family and societal pressure, and I was as happy as if I had read a romance novel to see him find a HEA with his soul-mate Paul (who seemed a little too perfect to be true). The theme of “catfishing” others and oneself is eerily appropriate, as Bill's online picture was used to catfish numerous women into fake relationships. Although Bill was blameless in this cruelty, he feels strangely responsible.

The book jumps around in time a lot as Bill reminisces and ties themes together in a non-linear manner, so it can be a tad confusing, but the feeling shines through. I hope Bill and Paul are still happy together, and I hope his wife and children are as well.