Roger seemed anxious to talk, and no one interrupted him. Leaning forward on the edge of his seat, with his stocky body almost toppling the chair, he began in his rapid New York manner, “You know, I have a powerful mistrust of women, too. There’s a story . . . I mean something happened to me . . . what I mean is, I had a really bad experience that messed me up with women. I’ve never talked about this before, but Ken’s story about his mother and sister made me think about this thing that happened to me a long time ago that I never got over. I don’t even trust my wife, or maybe I especially don’t trust my wife. I can’t even tell which. ”
Roger sat back now, looking like he’d just lost his best friend. His face sagged, his eyes welled up, and his voice cracked when he spoke again. “This is too horrible to talk about because I never got over that day, and it was 25 years ago. I’m not sure what’s making me remember this, but I wish to Christ I wasn’t. You know, I think I’m going to let this one go, guys, because it’s just too horrific to experience again.”
No one wanted Roger to let it go, though. This was a guy who’d always found it difficult to talk about his feelings, and here he was doing just that, and more deeply than ever. He obviously wanted to let this beast out of its cage, but seemed reluctant to give up control of the key just yet.
We remained silent, hoping he’d change his mind. Finally, Billy, our newest member, who hadn’t heard many of Roger’s stories, asked, “Roger, no matter how bad thinking about whatever happened to you makes you feel, don’t you think you might feel a little better to let it out after all this time?”
Roger looked at Billy with an expression that said he’d probably feel better cleaning out an elephant’s cage. In any case, the minimal information Roger just shared already told us more than everything he’d said about himself in two years. He’d admitted on several occasions that he never trusted his wife and didn’t respect her all that much, either. There was always some bullshit argument about women and hormones and chemistry to explain his lack of trust, but none of us ever bought it. Here was the truth lurking underneath all that cover-up. We waited for several minutes as he struggled silently and finally let it all come rushing out.
Roger Remembers
“You all know I’m not comfortable about my feelings and prefer to talk about my thoughts,” he hesitantly began. “Irregardless, this story is about nothing but feelings, so listen up.
“The cloud of the Vietnam War was hanging over my head as I neared college graduation and, knowing I’d be drafted into the Army, I joined the Air Force instead. Luckily, because my degree was in political science, I was sent to an intelligence posting at the American Embassy in Seoul, Korea. I didn’t have much emotional baggage going into the Air Force, but it only took a few months before I was dragging a steamer trunk behind me. I’ve been dragging it along for a quarter of a century now and think I’m finally ready to let it go now—right now.
“I’d dated casually in high school and college, but was pretty much a blank slate about love. The subdued femininity of the Korean women made them seem mysterious, and I found them more strikingly beautiful than any of my girlfriends in New York. My success at home had been spotty, but in Korea, I was a prince, a blue-uniformed giant with pockets full of dollars and a libido that I learned didn’t have any boundaries.
“In short order, I met Kim, a petite, 19-year old student from Seoul who idolized me as if I were an American movie star. Remember guys, I was much thinner in those days,” he added as an aside. “She lived at home with her father, who’d been a soldier in the Korean Army many years before, her mother, and two younger sisters. We spent virtually all my free time together, eating out, going to American movies, and making love in the small, sparsely furnished room of an inexpensive hotel. After luxuriating in six months of the most indescribable bliss I’d ever experienced, I was beginning to wonder how I was ever going to be able to give it up and return home.
“Kim and I decided to spend a weekend in the countryside at a small inn, and I made reservations for us. We were to meet the next day at 4:00 at the train station, and I bought a bouquet of flowers and a hard-to-find bottle of French champagne. It was a hot, muggy, summer afternoon, and I couldn’t wait to wrap my arms around Kim again. I even considered asking her to marry me and had thought about looking for an engagement ring, but hadn’t been able to get away from the base. As I walked to the station, I for the first time in my life, I thought long and hard about what being married would be like.