An Affair to Remember

 It started innocently enough: a visit from a long-lost cousin.  About two weeks later, seemingly out of nowhere, Gary decided I was having an affair with him… my cousin.  My gay cousin.   He came to this conclusion based on, well, nothing because for the love of God, it’s my cousin.  And did I mention he’s gay?  Because being my cousin isn’t enough of a deterrent, why would the fact that he’s gay?  

It’s laughable, of course, except that, save a period of a few hours, it is literally the only thing he’s spoken about for a week.  Quite literally.  Every time my phone rings…. “Is that your boyfriend?”  When I get the mail…. “Any love letters from your boyfriend?”  I have lost count of how many times he’s awakened me the past week… checking to see if I snuck out of the house… imagining he hears my gay cousin showering at 2:00 am.  Every waking moment of every day for the past week, without reprieve.

I thought things were as bad as they could get, but today, he started checking the dose of insulin I was administering because now he’s concerned I’m trying to kill him.  So I can be with my boyfriend.  Who happens to be my gay cousin.

Interesting how one person’s dementia can make two people crazy.