'Mister Right' never found me. “O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” . . . .

[NOTE: This post disproves the MYTH that 'MEN are NOT EMOTIONAL creatures'.]

In honor of Valentine's Day this month I am sharing some of the things that men have written to me over the years, which I had packed away, with all of my other memorabilia, that I sorted a few months ago. The emotions, men claimed to feel, for me, in these cards and letters, were saved as my reminder that I had at least gotten under their skin, if not in their hearts. It's so ironic that a woman who has had so many, superficial, chances at 'love' has still to this very day never had the deep, true, love, that I had simply expected, when I was younger, and even cried out to God for; apparently to no avail. Because of my being in the military, which is largely populated by males, and working as a dancer in nightclubs, for years, I have met and talked to and gotten to know thousands of men in my lifetime. Yet, out of all those men who have come through my life in some capacity there have only been two who have unlocked my very careful heart, and neither one of them wanted my heart. That is why I say that I have not found love. Being 'in love' has to be a two-way street for it to matter. The closest, I have ever come, to, mutual, love was with my second husband. The one I described in several of my posts as, 'the one man that I would love forever'. I honestly think that, our love was based on our intense, and incessant, sexual chemistry with one another, though; not on any, deeply shared, values, or goals. I view men as having been a quantity-over-quality let down for me throughout my life. I finally cut my losses and quit trying.

The following things are being transcribed here verbatim and the writer of each is identified, along with a little background on the person and/or on my relationship with them, although, I can't recall many of these men, who wrote these things to me. I've often felt that men say such things as are in these cards and letters just to try to 'sweet talk' a girl into bed with them. With that being my mindset about alot of what men say and do, causing all of it to be suspect, then, I probably just chalked up most of these statements they made to me to their being more horny than loving and let it go at that, as being something more superficial than special.

Even though it may be an ego trip that so many men made such a fuss over me I would gladly have traded all of it and more to have been truly loved, by one good man. I have NEVER known what THAT feels like; and knowing how my life's been, in that area, I fully expect to stay single for the rest of my life; using my vibrator, while, trying, to remember what laying there with another human being feels like. It has been decades since I have done that. Men. They have either been 'feast or famine' in my life, only the 'feast' seemed like JUNK FOOD that would have never satisfied my soul. Maybe I didn't give some of them enough of a chance with me. They seemed nice enough, on the surface. But 'chemistry' comes into play with a romantic connection, and clearly I just wasn't feeling that with ANY of these men.

The cards

Some of the notes that men wrote to me in the cards, pictured above, are below:

John responded to a personal ad that I placed

John and I dated very briefly. He was an Air Force officer. He responded to a personal ad that I placed in the local paper (how we met people before the internet and singles' dating websites, etc.) I had written that I wanted an intelligent man with an education, because I was tired of guys who couldn't discuss deeper issues in this world, and John told me that was what he really liked about my honest personal ad, and responded to. I just didn't feel 'safe' with him, alone, in person, and I don't know why. My spirit just felt disquieted within me, when I was around him, and I didn't continue to date him long enough to find out why. I just trusted my gut that he was not 'Mr. Right' for ME, and moved on.

My actual Personal Ad, from the local newspaper Bellevue Leader, was tucked inside this card from John and is yellowed with age. The date on the piece of newspaper says September 30, 1992. Under the "Personals" column in the paper, my ad read, "ATTRACTIVE WHITE female, slim, 5'9", blue eyed brunette that's outgoing, open, intelligent Christian with a spontaneous personality and a sense of humor SEEKS intelligent, college educated, non-smoking mature white male in 30s or 40s that's good company. Must be: communicative, not closed or moody, enthusiastic about life; honesty a must! NO GAMES! This lady enjoys stimulating verbal debates, eating out and has a wide range of interests including travel, music and reading. Photos appreciated. Write to: Box Holder, P.O. Box 1083, Bellevue, NE 68005-1083."

He sent me this card, during our very brief relationship, though. The printed card face read: Know what's special about you? Everything! In fact, it would really be impossible to single out one thing I like best about you. . . because everything about you is so great. Your smile, your way of talking, your way of understanding me . . . not to mention your great looks, and how fun you are to be with. It all adds up to one great person-- somebody I really like a lot! John added this note, "With great affection, your friend John". There's a gold gift card stamped "VICTORIA'S SECRET London" and a note inside it saying, "For Deborah The most special person in my life, and a good friend. John", but I have no memory of what gift he bought me from there. 

He enclosed a lengthy, handwritten, note, in the greeting card, also, which said:

John Adams

"Dear Debora[h]

         I feel, in such a short time I've grown very close to you. The affection I have for you is very real, and so intense I don't have words to properly describe it. I trust you and enjoy the time we spend together very much. 

        I'm not looking for a wife or a lover. I'm in search of a real friend to share my life with. I really think I've found her-- You!

        I can't help but wonder if in some small way we were brought together as an answer to some of our prayers. At least for me you are the answer to one of my prayers.     

        I hope in some way I can help answer some of your prayers. I will do anything I can for you. There really isn't any way I can repay the happiness you've already brought into my life, but I need to try.

        I'll always be here when you need me.

                                                               Your friend

                                                               John

[NOTE: John was ALL talk and VERY LITTLE substance. We didn't date long at all.]

Some of the cards, notes, and letters, from men during my dancer days

My main dancer alias, that I went by, for years, was 'Stevie'

I met Grant while I was working at Lipstix in Council Bluffs, Iowa. He was in sales and traveled his, multi-state, route, selling embalming supplies to funeral parlors, but he lived in Minnesota. He was married. We were never involved, romantically, or sexually, but it was clear, by the things, he said, and did, that he wanted to be. He reminded me of my father and even had the same last name, which deepened that perception I had of him. He had to stay in motels and eat out on his route so he asked me to eat dinner with him when his travels brought him back to Omaha again. All I ever did was eat out with him. He said he would appreciate having my company. One Sunday morning he called me, though, when he was home with his family, in Minnesota, for the weekend, and told me that he had stayed home, and sent them on to church, without him, because he wanted to call me. I realized he wanted more than a dinner companion, from me, then, and I didn't want to break his heart, or wreck his life, so I didn't encourage him in it. [The printed card face] "Getting to know you is really alot of fun for me.  No matter what we do or where we go, I know I'll have a good time. Maybe that's because we never have to work at it. When  we're  together,  good times just happen naturally.  Being with you is something I always look forward  to, and  the  times  we  spend  together  always leave me feeling in a happy mood.  You're a nice person.  I  like  you.  And I  just wanted to tell you so." [Part of the handwritten note, inside, from Grant]  ". . . . I needed to sen[d] this card to thank you for your friendship. I pray every day that I  won't  do  anything  that  will  scare you away. I am looking forward to hearing more chapters. . . ."

Another card from Grant was a birthday card to my cockatiel, CeeBee-- my bird baby-- but he added a note to it, which included "Give your mama a big kiss for me- She is a wonderful lady".

Tim, was one of my 'Call Girl' customers, when I was involved in that, for a very short span of time near the end of my dancing when I worked as an undercover informant, for the Omaha Police Department. Tim was a married man. I REALLY did not want to bring that up again, here in this post, as I have already covered that [https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2021/11/twin-franklins-price-of-prostitution.html] and it was a low point in my life in so many ways. A definite 'dark night of the soul' for me. I sat here, debating, whether to 'sanitize' who he, actually, was, in his relationship with me, in this post, but the truth is the truth. It is what it is. I decided to go ahead, and include it, again, in the context of this post's particular subject matter, because knowing this is very instructive for the average person, who is most likely very naive, as I used to be on this subject, of who the men are, who hire prostitutes; and will, therefore, be shocked, at the reality of the situation. Try to comprehend if you can, something that REALLY SHOCKED ME about the men who engage in this. They are sitting in the church pews, on Sunday mornings, next to their wives. In fact, the man who  is in the pulpit giving the sermon from God's Word, may be someone buying sex services. I honestly thought I could tell by looking at men, if they were the 'type' to seek such relationships, but there truly is no type, that someone can pinpoint. Men, are able to compartmentalize their lives, in a way women can't seem to do. That is the best way that I can explain how this happens, even with, 'good' men. 

My customers ALL appeared to be truly nice, 'salt of the earth', guys. You would have NEVER SUSPECTED that they paid for sex. Some of them, were single, but some were married. Only they know their reasons for doing this. Besides my not being able to tell just by looking at them, the other thing that shocked me came from my erroneous assumption that the married ones must be in bad marriages and hate their wives, but that was not at all true! They talked about their wives, and kids, openly, and even spoke, lovingly, of their spouses. It didn't even really sound like they were driven to it, out of any particular 'unmet need' they had. It just seemed more like they were simply curious and wanted 'different'. I recall a maintenance man, at an apartment that I lived in, decades later, starting to talk about how he loved his wife, but that he wondered to himself, when he was in a woman's apartment, fixing something on their Work Order, what it might be like  to just have sex with them because, as he put it himself, he just wanted to know  if somebody else 'did it different', than his wife did it with him. Simple 'curiosity'. He had a very attractive young wife, and was a devoted married man and father. 

Back to Tim, and the cards that he seemed to enjoy picking out and giving to me. One has nothing on the front but a sweet photo of a white Labrador puppy sitting in a tin pail that's hanging on a fencepost. The inside is printed with these words: Without you I'm a pail version of my usual self. Tim wrote "Miranda* Just wanted to let you know how much I look forward to  talking to you and seeing you again.  I truely enjoy your company  and I'm hopeful that I'll get to know you  in a more intimate way. You are an  incredibly lovely person, both inside  and out!  See you soon, Tim."  It appears to be one that he wrote to me when we were just getting to know one another, sitting and talking at the Backdoor Lounge, where I worked. 

Tim brought me another card for our first 'date'. Because there was NO REASON that he NEEDED to romance ME, in the situation, I found it to be both surprising, and touching, that he did.  Maybe men really aren't just looking for sex.  Maybe, like alot of women do, men miss the romance, too. He handed me this card, and the front of it read, "I think of you often  but sometimes forget  that the thought  doesn't  count  if you don't know it yet", and the printed inside said, "So here's a 'Hello' that's intended to say you've been on my mind, especially today!" Then he added, "ESPECIALLY Today!! Tim." and then, over to the side of that, "Miranda, I hope this  experience is as rewarding  and fulfilling for you as I am sure it will be for me. Tim." I added my own note to the card, later, that said, "6-4-98 $200.00  in this card for 1st 'pro' w/Tim 2 roses were w/card". He took me to dinner, first. 

Another card from Tim had a front that read: "When you're not here, I just can't seem to get on top of things." Inside it said, "you, for  example." Adding a note, inside, Tim wrote "Miranda, I saw this card and thought it somehow appropriate. I'm hoping you are looking forward to the 29th as much as I am, to remedy this situation. Thinking of you, Tim"

I'm sitting here feeling so sad, as I relived those memories from that dark time. I feel tears in my eyes. If you read my post about the prostitution (the link to it, is included, above) I referred to Tim as "Greg", in that post. I don't recall why, now, but I think it was because I honestly could not remember his name, until, I came across these old cards that he gave to me 25 years ago, as I was sorting through all my mementos, that document my life story. I haven't had sex with anyone, at all, since then. I had three TRULY AWFUL kisses, with a man, last summer, that I never should have kissed (and that was MY FAULT, for doing that, not his), which was the first, and only, time, I have kissed ANY man on the mouth, since my last marriage ended when I was in my 30s! It was also the only physical exchange of any sexual nature I've done in the last 25 YEARS of my life. Pathetic, I know, but true, nevertheless, whether you believe that or not. It seems that, if I stood right in front of Cupid, so his arrow would HAVE TO hit me, IT WOULD MISS somehow.

It may not seem like it, but I have been single, uninvolved, and celibate for most of my adult life including now. There REALLY is just not ANY man that is not more TROUBLE than THEY ARE WORTH. I literally THANK GOD on a regular basis that I am SINGLE! I have felt this way for decades. I enjoy laughing and having fun but  I don't want a man in my private life because I NEED PEACE and they disappoint, anger, and annoy me, so often. I don't have the energy or desire to deal with the CRAP, they bring, into MY life. It is TOO STRESSFUL, and not a good enough ROI.

Paper bar napkins were always handy to have around, as communication devices. Club customers, who left the bar with a dancer's coveted personal phone number, scribbled on a napkin they tucked away for safekeeping, in their wallet or pocket, 
were certainly grateful for those. Sometimes notes were written on them like this one to me from a, Jewish, club customer, whom I was using Yiddish phrases with throughout our chat, which I had learned from a gentleman who was a patient of mine in the hospital, when I was in nursing. Mel used the word "meshuga", and I am someone who has NEVER wanted to 'dull my shine', just to blend in, with the crowd, so I considered it a compliment! Mel and I had bantered back and forth in between my having to go up on stage to perform, and I know he meant it kindly!

Below, is a photo of some more old bar napkins. Tissue-like pieces of paper, that captured some of the moments, from my days working as a dancer, in the clubs. It's hard to see his faded signature, as Josh got right to the point, with me. I do not remember him at all out of the thousands of men that I met and talked to in these places, over the years, but I had an impact on him, that night at the bar. I likely saved it for someday when I was a gray-haired old lady, as I am now, just  to reassure myself that there was a time in my life when I was young, attractive, and desirable, enough that, a young man would write a note to me, on a napkin, that said, "I want you BAD!" The other 3 napkins are just lipstick 'kisses' of mine that I would do and give to the club customers, as 'souvenirs' of their visit to the club, and their conversation, with me; hoping, they would be reminded to return.

I got a one page, typewritten, letter, from a club customer who signed it "Gary". I wrote a note at the top of this thing to remind me of some of the unsavory side of dealing with club customers. It wasn't all glamour and gentlemen, although some of it was. It was written to me, as "Miranda", which means it was near the end of my dancer career, when I was working as an informant for the Omaha Police, and for the first time, in my entire dancing career,  I was doing some limited 'Call Girl' type of prostitution (NOT 'street walking'), specifically to sully my reputation, so I could get the criminals, and gang members and the dancers who hung with them to trust me enough to let me in on conversations and so forth. It worked but to a very limited extent and the price I paid for that, by grieving the Holy Spirit in me, was most definitely not worth it. This guy had sat with me on several occasions. I even had him coming up to me in the Old Market when I was off work. He tried to sit and talk with me there on my time off away from my job where I was required to talk to these men. I just walked away from him. He knew I wasn't into him. He was a 'sleazy, slimy' kind of just-really-gross guy. Other women, will know, what I mean, by that, but I don't know if men will know, what I mean. Maybe. Anyway, I wrote a note, to myself, at the top of this letter, that he typed, to me, which said:

"I got this from a (gross) club customer, that brought a plain, gray, ribbed turtleneck sweater into the Backdoor Lounge where I was a dancer, & then he thought for some sick reason he could actually sleep with me. I told him how health conscious I was (& safety, etc.), to put him off, & did; but, then, he gave me this & I kept it only as a reminder of how out-of-real[i]ty & gross & sick, etc., club customers can be. Ugh!"

Here is his letter to me as 'Miranda', in the bar where I worked as a dancer:

"Miranda,

          Thanks for hearty comments on Tuesday, December 23. How nice of you to be so kind to someone had given you something for Christmas and was kind enough to purchase your new costume. I will be sure to wear my gloves the next time I stop in as I wouldn't want you to pick up any strange viruses.

         I was touched to hear that you are pursuing other activities to earn a few extra dollars. I was thinking of giving you a picture of Grant just to help out during the holidays but I felt a little hurt as I walked out. [NOTE: I have blog readers in 62 countries now, not just the U.S., so for those of you who may not know, Grant is pictured on a $50.00 bill, and this jerk was trying to wave a 'lost' tip in my face because I refused to 'accommodate' him. As for his reference to my 'earning a few extra dollars' for my doing prostitution, I was paid $200.00-- twin Franklins, which are hundred dollar bills, plus taken out to eat, and sometimes drinks, as well, plus the men paid for a motel or a hotel room. Some even brought me flowers, and gifts! So, all-in-all, they spent at least several hundred dollars to be with me; each time. I also had repeat/regular customers, even though I only did this for a very short time, who KNEW the 'product' they were getting, after the first time with me, and were more than willing to spend all of that again, to be with me. So, this jerk that wrote me this is what my Twitter friends would call 'a whiny little bitch'. Plus, NONE of my customers that I slept with were GROSS like him. They were nice, clean, guys-- who even used CONDOMS, for me-- and STILL really liked it.]  
            I was thinking of asking you out on New Year's Day for a little fun. I would have picked you up around 3:30 PM. We would have gone out for something to eat then checked into to a motel for some mutual sex (your fee is appropriate and would have been in an envelope). I was thinking of giving you a lovely body massage -beginning with your back, down across your lovely little ass, down your legs, turn you over and finish with your legs, then start with your breasts and nipples which I would gently kiss and caress, down across your tummy to your sweet little pussy which I would have licked your clit while my fingers would have stroked your pussy. After you had a nice little orgasm, I would have laid down on the bed and you could have climbed on and rode my cock (with rubber) until I too had an orgasm. You would then lay down at my side and we would have just hugged and I would have continued to your nipples and breasts. After we had wound down, we could have gotten dressed and I would have taken you back to your apartment. I was even thinking of getting you some nice lingerie just for yourself. A nice long sheer gown to sit around in and enjoy. 

        But alas, you probably wouldn't want to touch me unless you had on rubber gloves and we were in a tent with alcohol mist since I am so covered with germs and I must be carrying all kinds of unhealthy sexual viruses."

                                                                  (it was signed, Gary)

[NOTE: I wouldn't have EVER wanted to touch HIM, or HIM to touch ME, even if he was THE VERY LAST MAN ON EARTH, and, HELL had just FINALLY FROZEN OVER.]

NOTHING about that misogynistic, thinly-veiled-hostility, toward me, was in ANY way TITILLATING, or ENTICING to me. I have that same cringeworthy, icky feel, that I felt, the first time, I read that thing, just from having to reread it, now, to transcribe it, verbatim, into this blog post. It leaves me feeling like, I need to go take a shower, to wash his grossness off of me. I was never with him, nor would that have EVER happened with him. I even found his letter to be frightening. He seemed like that type of guy that would hurt you or worse if you ever fell for his bullshit; which I never did-- which is why he stayed so angry at me. He couldn't have me, and he was furious about that. He reminded me of creeps that torture women just to hear them scream and beg for their lives. When men I don't like, or sometimes, don't even know, or even those like Mark, below, that I did know well but wasn't at all attracted to, EXPRESS these EXTREMELY DETAILED PLANS, which they want to achieve with ME, that THEY ALREADY KNOW, are NOTHING I WANT, it's concerning to me. Even troubling. I saved the letter as an example of the dark side, of working as a dancer, in nightclubs. It was, dangerous, at times.

   

Good times, on the Air Force base

I have NO idea exactly where or how I met this man, but I think it was during the year that I was divorcing Tom but I still had my dependent ID to access the base.  I was fed up, with trying to commit to a man, and continually being disappointed, by them, in marriage, so that year I had a blast, playing the field and dating ALOT of different men. That song, 'It's Raining Men' (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5aZJBLAu1E), was MY LIFE for that one, super fun year! I didn't have to try. I just walked onto the base any time day or night, and within minutes I had met a man, or two, or three or . . . . I didn't take a lover although I easily could have. I just enjoyed being wined, and dined, danced with, and desired, by so many men, because my attempts at marriage had always ended in heartbreak for me so I did not want to 'settle down' again with any guy, anytime soon. The closest I came to a 'steady' relationship that year was with an Air Force intelligence officer that was part of the crew on the Looking Glass**-- Edgar. Just now, after all these years, I Googled him, and there he was on my computer screen. The same guy, but white-haired now. It says he is the President and CEO of an organization in Washington, DC. He had an 'air' about him in more ways than one. He had "III" after his name and his family was very prominent, including, in military circles. But, the reason I broke up with him was because he would NOT WEAR DEODERANT!  He would call me up, from some Top Secret location up in the Looking Glass which he could not divulge to me, to arrange a dinner date with me at the Officers Club, for when he returned to base. He did shower, and put on a suit, for those occasions. But when He came straight to see me, still, in his flight suit, and he removed it, to cuddle, I could not get past the fact that, alot of body odor was released, into the air, when he did that. I asked him to shower, at my place, and I tried to discuss it with him, but he did not want to wear deoderant, and that, really, stunk up our relationship, to the point that I stopped seeing him, because of it. My luck at love just STINKS.

Sometimes, even literally.

>sigh<

I digressed into the thing about Edgar. I do have mementos from my time dating him, but they are several photos of us dressed up for dinner at the Officers Club, and I did not include them in this post. Below, is an elegant cardstock Christmas card, from a man that was in Britain's Royal Air Force at the time that we met at Offutt. Allies do fly into U.S. air bases and dock at navy ports, at times. Again, I  do not remember exactly how we met. Although I did drink and party some that year, I was mostly quite sober, but simply cannot recall him, after 35 years have passed give or take, including because I was seeing several men then and wasn't spending alot of time with any particular one of them, so I was spreading myself thin, socially speaking. This card has a navy blue grosgrain ribbon attached to it, and is embossed in silver, on the front. Inside Bob's squadron address is printed, and he wrote the note "Debbie, (I wasn't a dancer at the time so I was using my real name) such a dreamy voice! Bob. T". I don't know, his last name, to Google him, now, but I could contact the squadron, and ask them, if they can determine who "Bob T" was back then. After all these years I doubt that I will do it, though.  I did pull this article up on Google just now, which at least talks about Bob's unit, among alot of other things. It has some photographs of its location, and so forth. (https://www.flying-tigers.co.uk/2021/raf-scampton-corgi-aviation-archive-and-hobbymaster-new-model-arrivals/) I had other saved correspondences from Bob so he tried to develop a relationship with me for awhile, mostly through letters. I likely would have thought that, the distance of him living 'across the pond' would be too much of an obstacle to overcome.It seems that I never encouraged him to have a relationship with me, for some reason, and eventually his letters stopped.  I feel strangely sad about that now, because Bob wrote to me so enthusiastically. On the other hand because space is so limited in my home, which is why I sorted my mementos a few months ago, to narrow it down, from how many there were,  I think I threw away the stack of letters from Bob, without even rereading them, because there seemed to realistically be no point in sitting here doing that, now.

In a torn and faded envelope, with the barely visible postmark of "1980" on it, I found a lengthy letter, written to me, on pink paper, from Mark [P.]. I was in the Air Force myself then, stationed at Offutt AFB. "Amn Debbie Gray PSC #2 Offutt AFB, Nebraska 68113". The return address was an APO, in "New York 09127". I  do remember Mark. He lived in the coed dorm, I was assigned to, when I got to Offutt. He was extremely tall and lanky, awkward, and geeky-seeming. I wasn't attracted to him at all. I actually hid from him, at times, because he sought me  out so much. I felt sorry for him, but that was about it. It's sad that my life has gone like that. I'm not attracted to men like Mark that would give me the world and all their love if I would just be in a romantic relationship with them. Yet the extremely limited times I've ever felt love for a man, those relationships NEVER COULD HAVE WORKED OUT. So, Mark, Bob, and many others, over my lifetime, have felt disappointment on their end, but so have I on mine. It has just NEVER MATCHED UP for me. It is so bad that, I don't even trust my heart, to know who really is worth loving, or who might, truly, love me, well, if I let them. For ME, I, REALLY, have to FEEL a GENUINE attraction and connection and that's SO RARE, for me. I am not in love with anybody, now, and I am so disgusted, at how men treat me, that I doubt I will even want to open myself up, to anyone, again. All things considered I am actually alot happier with NO man in my life. I am SURE that I NEVER found 'the one'. Or at least I THINK I'm sure. Maybe, Michael. . . ?

Here is Mark's handwritten letter to me, when I was a young woman in the USAF:

                                                                                         September 2, 1980

Dear Debbie

       The moment I met you I knew that you were special. No other woman I ever met won me over as quickly or as completely as you did in the first minute of our first conversation. Being with you was like walking through Paradise.

       Of course, everywhere there was Jim***. I saw no purpose in trying to fight against him over you for two reasons. First, because I am a coward in matters such as this and felt that there was simply no way I could win you from him. Secondly, I believed that you belong to him, as he belonged to you, and I had no right to try and steal what belonged to another man. I resigned myself to just being your friend.

      Then I was cast out of Paradise. Why, I still don't know, but I guess you had your reasons, and maybe they were good ones.

      I was hurt that you were avoiding me. I was angry at you, but I knew inside myself that the real blame lay with me, I had failed you somehow, and I was really angry with myself. Outwardly, though, I was determined to ignore you and have nothing to do with you ever again.

                                                                                                                  2

     Yet everywhere I went you seemed to pop up out of nowhere and everytime I saw you I would feel chills and trembling and a racing heart. I knew then that I had feelings for you which would withstand anything you could do to me.

     I kept hearing things about you. The dormitory is a small world, everyone knows one another and people talk. I heard, true or false, that you had broken up with Jim. The next day at breakfast I approached you and aske you how you were. I wanted to comfort you in any way I could. If my plunging the biggest knife they have in that dining hall kitchen into my heart would have brought Jim back to you and you and he would then live happily ever after, I would have done it. But instead I fumbled with your hat and fumbled with your CDC book and fumbled with my mouth and felt like a fumbling fool. You withdrew from me, so I left quickly.

    A week or so passed, and again I heard rumors. The stories said that you were stripping in front of men in the dormitory, and that you had entered some kind of strip tease contest at some joint. [NOTE: This is TRUE. My entering the contest, anyway. Some male Air Force buddies took me with them to a stripper bar- my first time in one of those clubs- and 'to let off steam' I did enter the contest at the end of the night, along with other women who were there.] They

                                                                                                                  3

said that you were sleeping with Frank [B]. [NOTE: This is FALSE. I definitely did NOT sleep with Frank, although he had 'started to grow on me' at this point, until I went to his dorm room one morning to tell him that-- because he had been chasing after me, for awhile-- and found him in bed with not one, I think, but two women. Frank was the complete opposite of Mark. He, was smart, too, but not geeky like Mark, and Frank was not 'buttoned up tight' like Mark. He was relaxed, fun-loving, and liked himself, none of which Mark seemed to be capable of doing, given his personality. Just as I saw them in bed, Frank saw me, and I turned and left. He had his dorm room door wide open, so anyone in the hallway could see this scene. Maybe for some sort of 'bragging rights', with the other guys? I'm glad I found out what Frank was really like, right before I made a mistake, with him.]

    This last story is the one that hurt me the most. It is also the story that prompted this letter and the question I am about to ask you. I should be asking it in person, but I am an ocean away from you right now-- in England-- so I will have to write it: Debbie, will you marry me? I love you.

   Maybe you are rolling on the floor with laughter right now. If so, I can handle that. My greatest fear is that my proposal will upset you and make your life more miserable. If that happened, I would walk in front of a truck. 

   I want to share your life, be your man and offer you strength and guidance when you need them, and take them from you when I need strength and guidance. I guess I should add, to be completely honest, that I desire you physically as well. You're beautiful.

   I would get out of he Air Force after one more hitch if you wanted me to, or even get out in November if that's what you truly wanted. I would dig ditches to support you, if that's the only job I could find. I would help you buy your house, and your department 

                                                                                                                 4

store furniture department, and help you raise your children: black, white, yellow, red and brown (perhaps a Puerto Rican, just to prove that they don't all turn out like George [H].

   I guess I know already what your answer is. Still, if there's the slightest chance for me, I had to ask. Maybe you love Frank Beale. [NOTE: Nope, and I was ANGRY about Mark writing me ALL THESE RUMORS that let me know how much GOSSIP was going on about me-- both true AND untrue-- that he was even hearing while over in ENGLAND! I disliked this letter as much as I did Mark himself. He was just ANNOYING.] Maybe you're back with Jim. Maybe there's someone else. Maybe there's nobody else but you just despise me. So be it. Whoever you go with or whatever you do, I want you to be happy. If my never seeing you again will help you achieve happiness, it is a price worth paying. I don't want to exert any pressure on you. Take care of yourself.  

                                                                         Sincerely,

                                                                                   Mark

. . . . I will be here until October 2, or thereabouts.

Michael, was a Lieutenant Colonel, in the Army, that I met when I remarried Tom and he was stationed at Fort Drum, in upstate New York, as an Air Force weather forecaster. Michael's unit was there, for training exercises, when I met him. They had to return home, to New York City, not long after that. We stayed in touch, by mail, and by phone, for many years, though. Michael wrote me alot of letters. He was tall and manly and bald; an officer and a gentleman, at all times, with me. I felt, very respected, and cared about, by him. He was wonderfully supportive, of me. I kept a few of his many letters to me, when I sorted my memorabilia. Here are some excerpts from those letters . . . . One last, but very important, thing, I am adding, to this paragraph, about Michael, as I near the completion of writing this post just prior to publishing it online: Of ALL the men I have EVER known in my life-- and there have been many thousands of men that I have encountered,  in some way, or other-- MICHAEL, is the ONLY one, who 'stood the test of time'. 

I told him when we met at Fort Drum and were first getting to know one another that I did not think we were compatible astrology signs, because he was a Virgo, and I am an Aquarius. That was 34 years ago. I always let that hold me back, in my mind, when I was interacting with him, over the years;  as silly, as that may sound, to some people, who don't put much credence, if any, into such things. I was talking to a Virgo friend recently who's happily involved with an Aquarius. I also knew of another couple that we both know, who are those two signs, and I told her about that fact regarding them. In rereading Michael's letters to me, he spoke of that in one of them-- my hesitancy, due to that fact-- and let me know that he didn't think it was an issue for us. But, I allowed it to be an elephant, in the room, between us, versus a, manageable, mouse. I gave it power over love.   

As I think about the men who have come through my life, to the present day, in writing this post, I see so clearly that, Michael, is the ONE, who ALWAYS SHONE ABOVE THE REST-- BY FAR-- in how he treated me, cared for me, and loved me.    I have tears in my eyes, as I'm typing this, because, NOW, it is likely TOO LATE. Due to the passing of, so much, time, it would be logical to assume he married, and moved on with his life, in New York City. I tried Googling him, while writing this post, because sometimes I can find out what happened to the people, from my past, that way. I tried several different ways to Search for him online, to no avail. There was an obituary, for a man with his name, and some of the facts in the write-up about that person indicated that it COULD be MY Michael. Even the photo COULD be him, if he gained alot of weight, over the years, and lost his fit physique that the military requires its service members to maintain. The man in the photo, which accompanied the obituary, was bald, but I could not be sure it was him; and if it WAS, then he is GONE off the face of the earth. I do have one other way to try to locate him, but I would have to go back into the memorabilia that I kept when I sorted all this stuff months ago and see if I saved a reference letter that he wrote for me for a job I applied for, that had his contact info on it.

*            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *

[NOTE: Today, Valentine's Day, 2023, I went upstairs to look through the things that I saved after sorting my memorabilia, and I found the reference letter that Michael wrote on my behalf. Using his Contact Information, on it, I tried to find him, but could not. I could see photos of his actual apartment address, in NYC,  online, and it was very clearly a man's apartment. But it went on the market in December 2020, and was rented again, in just 2 days. I have no idea if he was  the one living in it, just prior to that, either. The years we were communicating,  we used mail for correspondence, and landlines, for calls. Cell phones were not  yet available. Because this was a letter of reference for me he had put his work number on it. When I called that, I got, a recording, saying, "This number is not  in service". The obituary, that I found online when Googling his name, was from 2011, and the man was 69 when he died. The photo could, possibly, be Michael. Comparing that photo, with the one he had attached to his letter to me, I began  to cry, because the baldness and head shape were the same, the size and shape  of the ears, were the same, the eyebrows, and eyelids, were the same, and the, shape, of the nose was close to being the same, in both pictures, although I had  to imagine the age progression as well, after so many years. The biggest reason that I think it could be him though is because of what it said. It gave their name with the middle initial, and ALL of it MATCHED. Michael was a Virgo (August 23 - September 22), and the person in the obituary, lived from, September 16,1942-December 9,2011. Also, part of the obituary described the deceased in this way: 

"Michael served his country in the United States Army and Army National Guard, retiring as a Lt. Colonel in 2002. He was a member of Holy Family Parish, Knights of Columbus and Knights Templar. Michael is a graduate of Marquette University and worked in the communications and advertising field the majority of his career both in Milwaukee and New York City."]

*            *            *            *            *            *            *            *            *

Michael's letters to me through the years were always so loving. As we discussed my troubled life, and misadventures, as I struggled to find my way in life through so much heartbreak, and loss, and abuse and such, he always gave me the grace to do whatever I thought was best for me, even if he wanted something different in the situation. He cared enough to want me to be happy. Isn't that what love is? I have tears in my eyes. It looks like, it is too late, to find out, what we might have been, with one another. Too much time has passed and life is so fast and so short! WHERE DID IT ALL GO? Michael, is, the ONLY man, that LOVED ME, WELL. Because of that, I trusted him, and I have never once felt disrespect toward him,  for any reason, including because of any disrespect FROM him, since, THAT never happened, with HIM. My PET PEEVE that gets me REALLY PISSED OFF has always been, someone treating me with disrespect. I become LIVID WITH RAGE (at least on the inside; while it takes, all, my strength, to hold my temper, and my tongue, toward them, then, for doing that, to me). ESPECIALLY, when they do that to me, IN FRONT OF other people, and expect me to just, let it go (especially, time, after time, once I 'let it slide' by an act of great grace on MY PART the previous time(s) they have pulled that, for their own, EGO, and/or AMUSEMENT). A man, who had earned alot of respect in my eyes, lost it all because of doing that to me. Multiple times and multiple ways. I feel seething anger due to that and doubt we will ever be friends again. He is not the man I gave him credit for. One thing, is for sure. I can think of no worse feeling, when I deal with other people, than realizing that I gave someone, far too much, credit and I have to reconsider the place they have in my life; if any, at all. When it comes to, who, people, really, are, time, will tell.  

                                                                                                                                                                                                                "August 10, 1989

Hi Stevie!

    I continually reread your letters sharing the wide spectrum of emotions and concerns you have dealt with since I met you. Like you, I have been very cautious in trying to understand the 'rocket engine burst of fire' that launched our friendship. . . . My fascination with you was further amplified by your candid openness about yourself, your problems, needs[,] hopes and dreams. I have never met a woman like you. . . . Ours might have been a passing event but I'm afraid we have linked minds, hearts and souls, as a minimum as friends as long as you wish. . . . In my mind neither you or I violated the trust you have with Tom. I respect that. He is luckier than he realizes. . . and I would tell him that to his face. But you must also accept that I met an intelligent, warm, open[,] attractive[,] beautiful woman. That new door of unbelievable candid communication and the emotions I felt can never be taken away. I will not forget your smile[,] your touch on my hand or your hug. . . . I am a healthy emotional man who is also physically attracted to you. I will always dream and fantasize even if we never exercise that feeling. . . . Love, Michael"

                                                                                 "September 19, 1989

Dear Stevie

        I'm sorry that such unpleasant events were the cause of your call [NOTE: Tom had struck me, and was arrested for it by the base security police. He was angry at me, that he was in jail; not angry with himself, for striking me] but in spite of that, I was thrilled to hear the sound of your voice. . . . As a friend, I guess I have to agree that you have tried and endured enough of Tom's behavior. Apparently he does not realize how lucky he is to have you. I'm sure he has also not thought about the effect losing you will have on his life. . . . Stevie, it is time to reawaken that special, open, happy, confident person that I know you are. It is time to think of yourself, Stevie and get on with your life. . . . It is important however that you also consider the power and charisma of your personality and your other interests. . . . There is no doubt you are beautiful and talented enough to dance again but that is tough . . . work. The Stevie I met has much to offer the world and it's time to get on with that. . . . I remember and still feel the touch of your lips, your hand and your body as we hugged. I think we are both cautious about that uncanny electricity that started with one look into your eyes that morning, and your smile so infectious as was your genuine enthusiasm for the entire event. You thoroughly energize a situation and the people around you. . . . Consider carefully where Stevie will be happiest, in a place she can be what she wants to be, on her own. The companionship and people to live love and play with will follow. . . . You are special . . . Love Michael"

                                                                                           "2 February 1990

Hi Stevie,

    I like that name too. It has a special meaning to me also, as I recall that incredible beautiful young girl in blue jeans and tank top shooting pictures of a band. [NOTE: That's how I met Michael. His unit had a marching band, and they were practicing on the road outside the temporary barracks that Tom and I were staying in at the time. I heard the music and lay on the road taking pictures of them as they marched in formation up and down the road, basically right on top of me. Because Michael was their commanding officer, he was watching the band, and saw me doing that.] I will never forget that moment when you smiled and said, "Hi! I'm Stevie! Isn't that band great" then the phone call in the office . . . Dinner, German wine (how prophetic that was) and your arms around me and that kiss. I'm stirring all over just remembering. You have pushed aside all other fantasies. We have been together often in my mind. You have danced for me many times in my mind and I have been in your arms and kissed your lips over and over feeling the warmth of your body on that chilly wet night. I would go on and on pages and pages about every inch of you that I have not seen or touched. You certainly tapped a well in me. . . . you have been through a lot . . . and I am continually impressed with how you handle yourself. . . . men will be after you. It's a magnetism and uniqueness that will always attract men and create jealousy in women. You are a very unique person, with a special gift and people do not like that. . . . I'm jealous of all who see you [dancing in the nightclubs], when I have not. . . .

             Love Michael XO"

THIS ONE, from Michael, makes me SMILE! The letter is tri-folded in the envelope, and when it is extricated from there, Michael wrote on the outside of the folded up pages, "TOP SECRET For your eyes only". As I open the letter it is dated 6 October 1989. Michael taped a small photo of himself inside of it, showing his manly build, bald head, and a 'poker face' expression, befitting, of a colonel, in the military. He drew a picture of me, on the first page, that showed he not only had, real, artistic talent, but that, he really had, thoroughly, fantasized about being with me. It is a sketch, of me, fully nude (which, I never posed for, so, it was done out of his own imagining of what I would look like unclothed-- and he got it right!), in high heels only, holding a bottle of wine in one hand, and a feather duster in my other hand, just outside of my vaginal area. The letter reads, "Stevie, It was nice to hear your soft sexy voice whispering those tantalizing words 'Kiss me'. As you can see I may never  have  seen  you  nude  but  my  pencil  and  imagination  try  to  fill in  the exquisitely beautiful details. . . . There can be no disappointment for me  because you enchanted my mind first. Anything else would be extra. Your voice is incredible to listen to. . . . you do get my juices flowing. . . . Love Michael"

I had blacked out most of Michael's picture, to protect his privacy, but it appears that he is deceased, based on my research, for this blog post. So, I replaced the altered version of the photo with the original one, showing his full face, that I so wish I could hold in my hands and kiss. His handwriting was the absolute worst I have ever seen, and is a real challenge to read! But, because, I read so many of  his letters to me, over the years, I can read it fairly well at this point. Only a few words, have, forever, remained, indiscernible! I was flattered, and honored, that he thought enough of me to SHOW me what HE saw in me. When someone puts themselves out there, like that, taking a real risk, to SHOW ME, what I mean, to them, through whatever efforts they make, on my behalf, it can cause me to see them as being very endearing, attractive, or sexy. Unless, or until, they show me disrespect, pissing me off then. You can BE SURE that someone DOES NOT CARE ABOUT YOU, if they do things like, throw you under the bus, to make themselves look better at your expense, show no regard for your reputation or your feelings, or falsely accuse you of things. Michael had too much class, and intelligence, and love in his heart, to ever treat me those ways. He stands tallest in my eyes, over any man that I have ever met. If I could pick, one, man to live my life with, from all the men I have known, it would be Michael. No doubt in my mind or hesitancy in my heart; only it's too late now. All indications are he's gone. He was the best!                                                                                                                                                                                                            "October 19, 1989

Dear Stevie

        I still have not gotten over the soft sexy sound of your voice when you answered the telephone, especially after you told me why [I used to masturbate using a feather pillow, by scrunching it up until I connected with that 'sweet spot']. Never thought I would be jealous of a big pillow with kiss marks and a sexual fragrance. . . . 

        If I did not say so very well I am very impressed with your strength and persistence in a very bad situation. Not only are you a beautiful woman but a very strong determined one -- a little bit of 'iron magnolia' maybe, in a nice way. . . . I enjoy our communications, you excite every time. . . . I must see you. Love Michael"

[NOTE: Michael and I met right after I remarried Tom, and then, stayed in touch, from then on, with most of the years being when I was divorced and single again. I did not have any illusions when I remarried Tom after seeing how he was in our first marriage to one another. He didn't want a wife. He needed a mother, as well as a military dependent, which would allow him to move out of the barracks into nice, new, family housing on base. I had two very short, and virtually nonsexual, marriages, to this boy, who refused, to become a man. Tom had pretended to be more responsible, to convince me to come back, to him, and then not long after, he reverted back to how he was, in our first marriage. I never slept with Michael, but we had a strong sexual chemistry, from the moment we met, and all I was to Tom was his 'ticket' to the benefits, he wanted, so he could make his life, as easy as possible, for himself; and a homemaker. Tom was, technically 'married', to me, twice, but was never, really, a husband to me, at all. He told me he had changed, and was finally more responsible in how he handled his finances and managed his life, but it was not true. Tom was also physically abusive to me, striking out at me because I expected basic things from him. He was arrested for that, once, while I was at Fort Drum, with him, in this remarriage. Michael, refers to some of this, in his letters to me. While, no physical abuse should ever go on, in a marriage, Tom was much 'milder' in doing that to me, than my final husband, Mark, who abused me, in every way, shape, and form that one could imagine, and did it continually, exhausting me, from that, until, I lost my will to live, at one point. So, if I do not sound like 'the devoted wife', to Tom, I wasn't, because we never really had what two adults would consider to be a marriage to one another. We had a boy and his babysitter. I have written blog posts, about Tom, in the past, if you want to learn more about this, ridiculous, relationship. I gave him a second chance. I shouldn't have. I learned my lesson, with that. If someone does not do what it takes to co-create, a happy, healthy, relationship, with you, all along, then, they, never will.]

                                              Miscellaneous Men                                                                                

I have no idea at all where I met Dennis, but he wrote me a very touching poem. On a small, torn, piece of paper that's now yellowed with age, he wrote: "Debbie

As I sit in this lonely room, thinking of the evening past;

a pencil I hold in my hand, my feelings I try to grasp.

How lucky a man would be, to feel a love such as yours;

To say I love you, I need you, I want you, to feel how outwardly it pours.

Oh, to feel a love, with so much passion, so much power;

would be to walk in Spring, to smell the freshly blossemed flower.

To feel that innacient love, so pure with always a surprise;

To be loved by the girl with the smile, and the Puppy dog eyes.

                                                                     Dennis"

I think it is so sweet, that he took the time, and put alot of thought into writing that, just for me! I transcribed it, exactly as he wrote it; spelling errors and all.

Another really caring guy named Chad wrote me a letter. He apparently lived in Ohio, but traveled to Omaha for his job in the insurance industry. Omaha is the location of the headquarters of some of the largest insurance companies in the U.S. It was written on Mutual of Omaha stationery. He wrote, "Dear Debbie, Im back in Toledo Ohio. I do want to say that I enjoyed the time we spent together.    I wish that there was more that I could have said or done to ease your pain. Im Hoping over the next month or so to get to know you better and Im really looking forward to being with you again in the spring. My week was a very boring one until that nite I met you, I just wished that I could have met you sooner. You are a very warm and understanding person, one I truely would like to get to know alot better. I kinda wished I could have been all those things you where looking for. I know you would be a very special person to be in love with. I'll be praying every nite hoping you'll find your someone but, until then remember you'll always have me. Always Chad"

I LOVE letters like that! I don't know where, or how, I met him, or if we did ever meet again. Some of these things, that these men wrote to me, to express their feelings about me, are several decades old, now. 

In an envelope postmarked APR 24 1989, addressed to me, as 'Stevie' (the alias I went by, for most of the time that I was a dancer in the nightclubs), in care of the Twenties Night Club, another man, that worked for a different insurance company, typed out a letter to me, on that company's letterhead:

"Dearest Stevie:

     I thought I'd better write you today just in case you might forget me in a few days (I'd hope you wouldn't).

     I was just logging some information into me computer and thought I'd just drop you a line to say hello.

     I really did enjoy talking to you saturday night and learning to know more about you. You are one classy and beautiful woman! I wish we could have had more time to talk, it seemed like the time flew when I was in there. I wish I could have standed until closing but I didn't want to bother you anymore that night. I couldn't get over how sincerly honest and warm you were . . . . . . . . . . the world would be much better off with more people like you in the world. 

     You mentioned how much you would like to be married and have a home life, so many women these days are so interested in ONLY a career and themselves it is refreshing to find a woman like you!

     I do hope this letter gets to you and that I spelled your name correctly.

     The last couple of days I was hoping that you believed what I told you and that I wasn't just ' another one of those guys who try to hit on you'. I was completely sober so I did know what I was saying and I do hope that you did and do believe me. That's why I wanted to write to you as soon as possible so you didn't think I was just like the rest. 

     Please do feel free to call me sometime, it would be very nice surprise.

     Take care Stevie, keep smilin and I'll be thinking of you!

     (he signed it in ink:)         A friend,

                                           Steve [U]" 

[NOTE: Based on his last name, which I withhold, to protect peoples' privacy, he owned the insurance company, because his name matches that of the agency.] I don't know if I ever got to talk with him again. I met and talked to so many men.

Here's a sweet-but-still-creepy letter, to me, in an envelope postmarked 22 MAR 1989. It's addressed to me at my home (apartment) address! It is handwritten:

                                                                                                     "3/21/89

Dear Deborah,

     Please don't think I'm some kind of nut (great opening line huh?). In fact I have never done anything like this before in my life. I remembered your address from your check, not really intentionally but because it is so close to mine. [NOTE: MY address was 2235 ST Marys at that time and his address on the envelope was 1001 Park Ave, so they are NOT AT ALL CLOSE TO MATCHING.] 

     After talking to you at the store [where apparently I paid by check and he took my personal information, from that check and wrote me this letter; which is all very inappropriate] and then coming to see you at the club, I've come to the conclusion that you are one of the most interesting people I've met in a very long time. But like I said, I'm more interested in the person I met in the store, The one you said was the 'real you'. She's the one I'd like to get to know.

     I guess I'm writing because I'm afraid I won't see you again in the store, and the atmosphere at the club doesn't really lend itself to sincerity. I mean you probably get 20 guys a week telling you 'You're the most interesting girl I've ever met'.

     There's a song I really like by the Smithereens called 'Behind The Wall Of Sleep'. The lyrics seem very appropriate, so I'll share them with you:

     Now I know I'm one of many

     who would like to be your friend

     But I've got to find a way

     to let you know I'm not like them

     By the way I should tell you, you really are a different person at the club. I believe and put much stock in vibes or auras or whatever you want to call it. And yours were very different Monday as compared to Tuesday. Monday you were very sweet, very open, Tuesday I could actually feel the defensive wall around you even though you were talking intimately with me. Also, Monday you seemed almost innocent and vulnerable, that why I found it hard to believe you were a dancer. I think your ability to change roles like that intrigues me even more.

     Well I guess I'll close now. My address is on the envelope,  my phone is listed with directory and you know where I work if you're interested. If you're not you may toss this away without concern, it was just something I felt compelled to do. And really ad truly I have never written to almost a complete stranger before. 

                                                                                Kyle [N]"

[NOTE: It was interesting to me to read a description from someone saying that they could really see the difference, between 'Deborah', and 'Stevie', my dancer alias/alter ego/stage persona. I've described in previous blog posts how I had to learn how to do that, drastic, change, in demeanor, to be able to do the job of a stage entertainer in a thong bikini, etc. I liked so many attributes of my 'Stevie' side that I have kept 'her' with me to this very day. On any given day, someone may be interacting with me as 'Deb', my sweet and gentler self, or they may be engaged with 'Stevie',  who 'takes no prisoners',  and holds her own, no matter who, she is dealing with. One, of the reasons, I would REALLY ENJOY, having, a romantic relationship (although, I have, ABSOLUTELY, NO DESIRE, to, EVER, be MARRIED again, in my life, at this point) is that, I like doing role play; morphing into a wide range of personas, each with unique attributes. That's so fun to me!] 

On a yellowed piece of notebook paper, Ron wrote me a letter. There's no date. I think it may be the friend of mine who was a hospital (patient) escort, that I met in the hospital we worked in, when I was in nursing. That Ron was a really sweet guy, but he had a crush on me, and would get really upset, with me, and moody, because I didn't like him back, romantically, which strained our friendship. A cute guy, Ron just wasn't what I wanted, in, an intimate, relationship. We would go do things together as friends at times, though. He had a sweet, sensitive, spirit, but he was far too fragile for me. He was more of a boy than a man. I wanted a man.

Ron wrote--

"Debby: 

I'm sorry I pissed you off. I hope your feelings were not hurt. I hope you realize that I didn't mean to make you mad. Sometimes I guess I get too wrapped up in my own head. Trying to figure out myself and my feelings for myself. Thats what I was doing today. Maybe I should pay more attention to the feelings of people close to me. Maybe I should express my feelings instead of keeping them hidden inside of me. I know I don't say it alot, but you really are the sweetest, warmest, most caring person I know. And you are a very pretty lady. I'm sorry I'm this way. It's something that has bothered me for a long time. I want to change, but don't quite know what to do. I hope you accept my apology. I thank you for all the things you have done for me, you have been a true inspiration. I will always have a special place in my heart for you.                                                                                          

                                                    Love. Ron 

P.S. - You're a very sexy woman also."

 

>sigh<

Valentine's Day is in two days, and just like, it seems to be, every year, for me, I have no one special in my life, to give that any real, romantic, meaning. As I pop candy hearts into my mouth as a very unhealthy comfort food, to console myself while there are no knocks at my door delivering flowers, and no candlelight meal,  I'll watch Hallmark movies, where love triumphs over all and culminates in a kiss.

At least Amazon sells vibrators.

We human beings are complicated creatures. Therefore, our feeling, or finding, love, can be quite complicated. My best, physical, relationship has been with a piece of plastic that I ordered online. It is both intimate and impersonal, at the same time. There are pros and cons to almost everything in life, and this is no exception.  I had to learn all about the eye-opening array of available sex toys. The 'lover' in my bed is a piece of plastic, that I turn on, but with the push of a button. It touches my body, but it doesn't come equipped to look into my eyes  and tell me that it loves me above all others on the earth. There are no mutual expressions of affection, verbally or physically. I can't lie there and listen to its heartbeat, because it doesn't have a heart. It just vibrates, at different speeds.  These helpful, and even gratifying, gadgets, are something that I am extremely pleased to have, however, as a, viable, alternative. Without them, it would be a very long, 'dry', spell, since, I remain celibate, and I have been so for 25 years.

It is what it is.

 

Happy Valentine's Day to all of my blog readers in 62 countries around the world!

                    

* 'Miranda' was a different dancer alias I was using at the time because I have a sense of humor and it was funny to me to introduce myself to club customers as "Miranda Wright" and have them say to me, "Wow! You might not KNOW this but that is like 'miranda rights' that the cops say to people they're arresting like, 'You have the right to remain silent.' and stuff." Specifically because I was working as an undercover informant, for the Omaha Police Department, which was a strange motivation behind my involving myself in prostitution in the first place, I went by that name, during that timeframe.

** Looking Glass - https://medium.com/exploring-history/operation-looking-glass-americas-terrifying-doomsday-plane-eca1bcb4765f and https://nuke.fas.org/guide/usa/c3i/ec-135.htm  

*** Jim was the 2nd Lieutenant that I was completely in love with, who was still stationed at Keesler AFB in Biloxi MS, when I got orders to report to Offutt AFB in Nebraska, where Mark met me. Jim became my second husband, is my son's father, and is the same man that I wrote several blog posts about being "the one man that I would love forever". Jim was also the ONLY man that I had sex with when I was in the service.

Sometimes, Even Smart People Are Stupid

This is a cautionary tale, for others, as well, to stick to your boundaries. I didn't, when mine were tested, and this happened to me because of my not doing that.

Richard EveryWriter @realeverywriter

I'll be honest, today, . . .

i’m writing to save my own life . . .

to find the answers

i already know

but don’t believe. 

i don’t want to die

without facing my truths.

I've had to (try to) process 'a whole shitload' of, very strong, emotions, in the last year, that I never thought I would even have to contend with at all at this point in my life; including shock, shame, and despair. I also realized that letting my guard down, and trusting someone, again, meant my becoming, the butt of a joke, and, the target of all the gossip, for being stupid enough to think they cared about me. I admit defeat. They devastated me. I got played, and worse than that, I have NO ONE to BLAME but MYSELF. EVERY TIME I have EVER trusted ANYONE in my life, I have REGRETTED IT. I had learned my lesson, well, and my head was on straight, about not letting people get too close to me. I was indomitable this way. Immune. No one, had been allowed to get inside my head, or, worst of all, inside my tender heart, which I fiercely protected from being shattered anymore after all the times that it has been. There are so many reasons that I should have known better, and done better. All I know is that when my heart got hijacked by some overwhelming and overpowering feelings I was no longer in the driver's seat. I was as drunk on, and reeling from, what I was feeling, as I have ever been by anything, or anyone. Ever. As hard, as it is to do, now, however, in the aftermath, of that fiasco, I have actually welcomed my being forced (admittedly against my will) to walk through a valley of humiliation, from this situation; as surprising as that might sound. Doing so drives the point home to me, in an excruciatingly, unforgettable, way, that this was something that can never be, and will never be. It was quite obviously (now) just some dream, or fantasy, that had started to seem far too real, for me, which could only and would only look like a living nightmare in the harsh realities of the clear light of day, with my eyes fully open, and focused, on the facts, as they are.

I'm much more of a realist about life's adversities and sorrows. If it took my being burned this badly to cause me to want to steer clear of this consuming flame then so be it! I had already tried everything, I knew to do, to stop it from happening in the first place, and when the other person did not help me, with that, but doubled down on the very behaviors which were causing me to feel like I did, I fell in love, because of the signal that sent to me. I felt so angry, and violated, because I was trapped in strong and sticky emotions then that I knew I shouldn't be having, and I couldn't get free of them. I tried everything I could think of to get over it; to get past it. It even drove me to drink, despite, my being, extremely, health conscious.

I'd gone the last 25 years only having a couple of beers, in all that time. I started drinking wine by the bottle. I didn't even bother with a glass. Just 'bottoms up' to my lips, drinking it down, as fast, as I could, after eating a few saltine crackers in an effort to keep from throwing up. I was trying to numb the pain. I was trying to dull my pure panic, that this had happened to me. You know, that feeling you get, when, one moment, you were, perfectly healthy, and strong, and the next minute, you become aware that, you are coming down with something, like the flu, that is making you debilitated, and dizzy, and disoriented, and NOTHING you can do, will stop it? That, is what this felt like, to me. It was just as unwelcome. It was just as unwanted. Feeling, those things, for this person, wasn't going to do me any good, and I hated having it in me, to have to deal with, 24/7, once it hit me and bowled me over. I was trying my best to honor the realities involved, while sliding down a slippery slope, of attraction and desire. Of course it had to end in a crash landing. There was never any other possible outcome for the obviously-one-sided feelings.

I've had some success with drinking wine, to give me the giggles and temporarily take away the sadness and stress that I feel when life is fully frustrating me, with its tendency to be both complicated and contrary. That is, before, I have to begin nursing the inevitable effects of a hangover, and assessing, fallout from, anything that I recall doing which may be under the heading of 'regrettable deeds'. I'm not endorsing any form of escapism as being the way to live life on a daily basis. But, for me, there is a certain level of 'bullcrap overload' that leads to a much-needed, drunken binge, to help me destress, from that, and to regain my lost perspective.

When I began writing this post (over the course of several weeks time, as I could find words to articulate it), I was struggling to recover, from both humiliation and  a hangover-- neither of which are painless or easy to get rid of. It was comforting to Google 'How do I recover from humiliation?' and see many websites appear, to offer advice, and observations, which have helped me, to get back on the road to recovery, right away. It was difficult, and daunting, at first, to be sure, but I have come to terms with it all, much more quickly, now, than I did at times in the past. Sadly, part of that is simply because I have had so much practice at my having to find some way to survive after people have broken my heart, during the course of my life. I am exposing my tender underbelly, so to speak, by talking about it now rather than, covering up, the fact that I messed up, and my messing up messed me up. I got there, with help, from others, messing up, as well, but, at the end of the day, I can only give my own testimony, and answer for my own sins. Whether  I like it or not, I am called to live my life by scriptures such as James 5:16, which says that we are to confess our sins to one another. But people are quick to judge others. We human beings almost always ascribe more weight toward, and disdain for, others' sins, compared to our own. People also have their loyalties and biases which affect how they react both for and against other people. A father who takes a dim view of a man whose behavior negatively impacted his daughter's life, may be the very same man who, scorns, and scolds, a woman for her holding his close friend accountable, for damage done, to her life, by playing games with her heart. Human beings are such emotional creatures that, thoughts, and actions, whether, on our own behalf, or a loved one's of ours, often have very little to do with either objective or impartial decisions on matters involving these relationships. It makes it more of, a loyalty test, than a truly, righteous, judgement, because of that bias.

                                                

                                          . . . or their loved ones.

When I've gotten stuck in social quicksand and started sinking to the point where it began to feel like it could be the death of me, it's been because, I have allowed someone to convince, or entice, me to stray from my own values. You would think that hard-won lessons about living would be grasped firmly and held onto for dear life. After all, we often carry the emotional scars of our lifelong learning to remind us that, what hasn't killed us has made us stronger, and, hopefully, wiser. Hurt, is not something that we are keen to, ever, experience, again, if we can avoid doing so. Heartache can feel more searing than touching a hot stove burner, at least, to me, and there is no soothing balm to take the sting out of it. Probably, 99.99% of people go to great lengths to hide their humiliation, and I would normally do that, as well, but I have become increasingly aware that this situation has been shared, through gossip that, apparently, came from someone, other than myself, who was directly involved, so it's already out there, casting me as both, the villain, and the fool. Gee. How fun, is that, for me? I don't even want to try to fathom the reason, that they would do that, to me. Especially, since, they have to know that they had a hand in this happening, in the first place, to be sure; and that, I was very angry with them, about the things, they did, to stir these feelings up, even more, in me, after I emailed them, and asked them, in writing, not to do that to me, because I realized that it was affecting me and I wanted to avoid this very thing taking hold of my heart. I had asked them for their help in preventing this from happening to me and they did the opposite of what I asked them. It became so obvious, due to that, and other ways, they treated me, that they do not respect me. That fact is a

blessing in disguise, actually, because, I have always been someone who needs to be respected, more than loved. In this case, I was neither, but, for me, disrespect is a relational deal breaker, helping me to sever the personal tie, that had evolved in my relationship with this person. I am grateful for anything that has helped me to destroy the emotions that had developed in me toward them. I did not want it!

I am not saying this out of bitterness but am simply stating the facts. I would not want this person even if that were possible, which it isn't and never will be. I saw plenty of Red Flags-- too many really-- that let me know that this person was not right for me. The main reason, being that, disrespecting, me, has, always, been a deal breaker, for me, and they, definitely, did not, respect me--  showing me that, through both, their words, and their actions, time and time and time again. When we were friends, it was the happiest phase of this relationship, to me, but there is no going back now, to that simpler situation. When we first met, he was rude and often unresponsive. I even felt sure that he was stupid, for awhile. So I had never expected that we could ever even become friends. As I look back on everything, I wonder now if we ever really were friends, or if he was just playing me, to control me, and to get on my good side, including so that I would stop complaining about how he was before. It worked. That friendship, as I saw it, was a source of alot of laughter for me, even though as amusing as he was he was also very annoying at times. I am equally annoying in my way, and very frustrating to deal with as well, though, in between my, also, being funny, and, enigmatically, charming, at times. So, in between all the banter and laughter we were mutually irritating quite often.

The day came that is was especially obvious and hurtful that he didn't respect me.

There was alot, that he did, that day, to directly interject himself into my personal life, when he knew, before, he did all that, that I had been drinking. It seemed to be, amusing, to him, but I was in that condition because I already felt humiliated, and completely stressed out, by him. When he exposed my vulnerability that way, that day, he brought someone else along, with him, that I didn't even know at all.
That, was one of the incidents, that so devastated me that I called the Crisis Line. The person that he brought with him, that didn't even know me, later called me a drunk, to my face, when I had only had 2 bottles of wine on 2 different occasions, and a few canned drinks at a neighbor's house one day, after going for 25 YEARS, without drinking more than a couple of beers, total. His treatment of me gave this person permission to-- also (like, him)-- disrespect me. It was, extremely, painful.
Around this time was when I realized, my biggest humiliation, came from the fact that I had actually thought he was my friend, and really cared about me, and was a decent guy. There was alot of other things, that showed me very clearly that he did not respect me, at all, but I am not going to go into them here. God, knows it.

You may be wondering why I would have ever considered this person to be a true friend, to me. I wonder that myself, now that our relationship with one another is over, and everything's been said and done, that has left it like this. But, it wasn't, always, this way-- at least, not, on the surface, when taken at face value. We had originally been antagonistic toward one another. For whatever his reason, he, was the one, of the two of us, that made a real effort to improve interactions between us. Especially because, he began to seem caring and supportive, and he made me laugh so often, and so easily, we came to be friends with one another. Or so I had thought. As time went on, the, veneer, on that, seemed to be, thinner, than, I had first believed. His 'caring', seemed to be more of a charm which was, intended, to control me. Instead of his seeming stupid anymore he just seemed 'slick'*, to me.

I noticed that he would always shut me down whenever I tried to express genuine distress about the situation with my being a target of the clique where I live and I kept wondering, why he didn't see, or acknowledge, that one of his closest friends was the main instigator of bullying me, since, he continued, to defend them; even at my expense. He told me that I should be friends with one of the women, that is associated with the clique, but never asked me, one single time, about my side of the situation, and what, these people, have put me through. He doesn't know any of that, to this day, therefore-- except for, my, finally, providing the proof, that his best buddy in the group was actually calling people over to her and literally telling them, NOT TO BE FRIENDS WITH ME. This woman is in her late 70s, and presents herself as a devout Christian to him. His friendship, with her, remains, unchanged, despite how she has treated me. So, his loyalties continued to lie with others, and was, never, really, there, for me, even during (what I had originally believed, was) our friendship. Someone, truly, caring about me, would not have felt comfortable, remaining, close, to such a perpetrator, that has caused so many problems, in my life, here, because of her meanness, and gossip. He's never even been curious, or concerned, enough, to ask me about any of the incidents with the clique members that caused an alienation to occur between us when I was friendly to them before.

Instead of telling me to be nice to them, when he has never asked me for my side of the story, he should have at least listened to how I have been treated by them, instead of shutting me down, before I can tell him any of it; and then, if he wants to play 'peacemaker', so much, he could have addressed their behavior, which has been the source of the breakdown in these relationships. There isn't one thing the people in this clique can truthfully claim that I did to them, but, they wronged me. I am not one to, continue in relationships with people who have treated me badly.

Why, should I do that, and open myself up to more of the same? TREAT ME WELL.

 

No one has ever made me laugh as easily, or as much, as him, though, which felt great frankly. I'm a sucker for a good laugh, so that gained him some real ground with me. Laughter opens up the heart, and that was his gateway into mine. From his influence, in my life, I learned to appreciate, and then, really, truly, like a new genre of music, that I had barely paid any attention to, before. It is, honestly, my favorite music to listen to now! I would have never believed that could happen, to me. I would have lost a money bet, on that not ever happening with me, for sure.
I will always care about him, as someone who became, very significant, in my life, for both good and bad reasons, whether or not, I ever should have; and I have no desire to hurt him, in any way. EVER. I wish him all the best. The bottom line is, I have only myself to blame. I started the superficial flirting, because it was fun, for me. Then, I couldn't get him to help me stop it, when it, suddenly, started to feel, too real, to me, and scared me. I got hurt and humiliated and that really is all my fault. This, is a cautionary tale, to anyone, reading this. DON'T PLAY WITH FIRE. I should have known better-- absolutely!-- and, I paid the price. I am so sorry, that any of it happened, and the saddest thing of all is it can't be undone. So, I extend grace, to him, because I am so in need of that, myself. I don't feel hatred or hard feelings. I just feel like I WAS REALLY STUPID, for a woman that is normally fairly intelligent. It hurt ALOT, that he disrespected me. But, the awful truth is, I taught him to. I cannot blame him for this; but it did take mistakes on both our parts for it to end up this way. We don't interact at all, anymore, and both think that's best.

Nothing significant ever happened between us thank God. I need to say that here.
I should also say that he did, finally, 'pull the plug' on it, but not way back when I asked him to, to prevent this, from happening, to me, in the first place. I do, fault him, for that. If he had done that, helped me with that, when I saw trouble ahead and asked him to help me to keep that from happening, instead of doing, more of, the very behaviors that, I was telling him, I was most susceptible to, this could all have been avoided, then, rather than, avoiding, one another, now, because, it did, happen. That's why I got so angry at him, about it. I asked him, not to encourage it, in me, but, he did, for whatever reason; and, he knows that. Maybe, it was just an ego trip, to see a woman's eyes shine that way when she looked at him, but he was not in a position, to be entitled, to that, from me, and I did not want to be, in a position, to provide that, extra boost, for him, and end up with nothing, to show for it, but being teased and heartbroken. This became a dark night of the soul, for me, so it is being addressed in this post, but I am not planning to expound on any of this or describe more, about it, in any future blog posts, that I might write. This post, provides a sufficient overview. All things considered, and that, covers alot of ground, with us, I know that, he has had a huge impact, on me, personally, and is one of those people that I will never forget. Even if I really wish that I could, now.

                                                                       
I did lose alot of respect for him, though, because of how he treated me, and how he handled this situation with me. He brought several other people into it to make himself look like he is just a totally innocent victim of it, when he absolutely needs to share the responsibility and the blame; and I'm the object of gossip because he did that. I have also had to endure these people putting me down, including to my face, while, he sat there, and tried to get me to say that he did not do anything to cause any of this-- which I refused to do for him, because that would be a lie, and he knows it; even if he won't admit it. I wasn't saying anything about it to anyone until, I finally told one person (my best friend), because, I had, no one, to turn to.

My friend, gave me his word, that he will not share, what I told him, with anyone.

@ML_Philosophy
Nobody notices your pain, but everyone notices your mistakes.

The whole community seems to know about it though, and that is, directly due to, how the man involved chose to handle it; in an, obviously, very disrespectful way, toward me. He, and his friends, have been the ones, that have spread this gossip. That is really disappointing to me, to put it mildly, because I had given him alot of credit, for being a, genuinely, nice guy, and he is also a Christian. When I realized how much damage they have done to my reputation, behind the scenes, as if that means, nothing, at all, to them, for the quality of my life, here, in this community,

by their, causing people, to view me differently, and decide, not to befriend me, in some cases, because of it, I felt really sad. I just can't imagine why they would do that. It's become crystal clear, that they have, however, and it is affecting my life.

Now, I can see why, he remains so close to the clique member that's gossiped the most, about me. It's because he has also been doing that. Even so, I stand on the fact that, God, brought me here. This is, His Will, and Plan, and His Word, always, stands true, including Romans 8:28, my favorite verse and the mantra for my life:

 

"And we know [with great confidence] that God [who is deeply concerned about us] causes all things to work together [as a plan] for good for those who love God, to those who are called according to His plan and purpose." [Amplified Bible]

I am just focused on going on with my life, and keeping my distance, at this point.
The humiliation has been very humbling for me, and I think that I have needed to learn a real lesson from all this. I also think, it wouldn't be wise to try to stand on that slippery slope, again, and believe, I can stay, firmly, on my feet, when, I slid, almost all the way down it, before. NOT. A. GOOD. IDEA. I didn't expect that at all when it happened, but now, I know, that it can; because it did. No one, was more shocked (and upset, about it!) than me, but it also, truly, terrified, me. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING. Just like, the car that gets hit by a train, on the tracks, and is totaled, I was blindsided. I cannot handle something like that! I do not know how to deal with it. It is crazymaking**, for me, because of that. I was miserable, and that made me so pissed off. It's no wonder it drove me to drink, when nothing, or no one, had, for 25 YEARS, prior to that! I was self-destructing, and I couldn't get a grip on my emotions, at all. It was horrible. I HATED IT. I am also left terrified it could happen to me again, now that I am back to being 'myself'. I hadn't thought that I would, ever, have to deal with something like that, at this point in my life. I was therefore not happy when I had to, because I didn't have a choice. It was too much for me. I am so much happier, being free, and independent. Not, controlled, by overpowering feelings. It also hurt like hell, to have someone mean so much to me and see, clearly, that I did not mean much to them. It had to be that way, too. There is more I have to say about it, in the following message to my blog readers.

A MESSAGE FROM ME TO MY READERS:

I now have readers in 60 countries around the world, and I am both amazed and humbled by that. Thank you, for sharing, my journey, through my true life story,  in this blog. It is my hope and prayer that your seeing me so openly describe my struggles and sins will assure you that you are not alone in your own challenges. The human experience is something that, we each get out of bed every day, and grapple with; with varied results for that effort. Some do better than others, and my struggle is real. I have not had the easiest time, with it, but I remain so very grateful to God that it's not been any worse. Every mercy and grace that He and others have shown to me have been the only reason that I have made it this far. 

The header of my blog, reprinted below, has been my promise to God, to myself and to my readers, that I would tell the truth in my posts to the very best of my ability, and I have done that. However, in recent months, I've been experiencing  a, very stressful, dilemma regarding, how, to write about, my, life, fully, when it involves people who are in my life right now in some way or other. Most of them know that I write a blog about my life and therefore they can potentially be in it, making them a part of my story which is being shared here with the world. I am not trying to 'gossip'. I am doing my best, to describe the effect of these people, and their sins, and shortcomings, on me, and my life, as well as, give an honest account of my own failings, and faults. I have written what there is to say about my past except that there's things I could expound on about my youngest sister. That just leaves me with what I have to say about the present. The difficulty I'm encountering, with that challenge, is that I am going into stress overload, trying  to process my thoughts and emotions in real time, without the opportunity to sit with the situation as it is for awhile, to see where the dust settles, before I make  a written pronouncement here as to how I'm feeling about whatever is going on,  in my life, at the moment. I can, capture that, fairly well, in a tweet, or post, on social media sites but to write a blog post in the in-depth way that characterizes my writing here, and seems to sum things up, with some conclusion, as I discuss or describe the subject matter, requires an achieved introspection from me that I can't always mentally muster when it is needed from me, so soon, to write these.

"I cannot make these stories from my life nice and neat or, rather, whitewashed and sweet, in order to make them more palatable, or easier to cope with, for anyone reading them. Whenever the truth gets watered-down, it stops being the truth! I have lived through all these things. It is my story. It is what it is. Our lives are greatly affected by the pervasive consequences of Original Sin, the sins of others, and our own sin, and we must acknowledge that."

As of this post, I have written 68 posts in the nearly 4 years that I have blogged. Most of them are lengthy, detailed, accounts, of whatever aspect of my life I was covering in each one, as I felt that I could deal with the particular subject matter.

Wise_Chimp @wise_chimp

Writing things down is the best way to clear your mind. Success demands clarity.

As a result of my trying my best to be completely honest about the actual events as they were, while also trying to 'be the bigger person', and heavily redact main incidents, or leave them out altogether, which could both clarify and substantiate  what I am talking about here, I now feel burdened, by my needing to write these posts, because I'm not including the meat of the matter on these current events. Especially when due to my decision to handle it this way, I am having to struggle mightily with that effort on a continual basis. This is proving to be so difficult and  draining for me that it is taxing my health in some really concerning ways, at this point. I am now frequently not feeling well, I am not sleeping well, and I seem to be stuck in a state of heightened anxiety, almost all of the time. Clearly, I cannot continue to do this to myself. This blog was begun in order for me to process the events of my life that had transpired, so that I could achieve some level of peace and healing in regard to them and their effect on me. Now the very act of writing these posts is perhaps the most toxic thing I am doing, to myself. It simply must stop. At least, for now, and for the foreseeable future. The joy of my tackling the challenge of writing-- especially, about such intimate subject matter, as the good, the bad, and the ugly, which is all a part of my life-- is completely missing for me now, in this endeavor. It has come very close to feeling like an exercise in futility.

Even though I'm only describing the people involved by general descriptions here, there is so much that I feel like I can't share, here and now, about them, that it is very hard for me to still feel that I can write coherent posts, anymore, with things as they are. I am straining, to do all that I feel like I can, to protect the person, at the heart of this post, even though, they really messed me up, emotionally, to the point that I had to call the Veterans Crisis Line, twice, and I also had to talk to my doctor on a few occasions, about the harmful effect of this, on my blood pressure, when it became elevated from this situation to a concerning degree and I couldn't get it to come back down. I have had to fight my way back, to feeling like, I am in my right and reasonable mind, again, after all of this got a grip on me and caused me to be, totally, turned away, from, my true north***. How, do I, fully, articulate something, about a person or circumstance here, when I'm leaving out all I can in these blog posts in order to avoid it being gossip? They have gossiped to, several, people, about me, regarding this very situation, which has caused others to show, open, disrespect, to me, or, at the very least, to see me in a bad light, since, they do not have, and would not, even care about, having, all, the facts, now that they have been, adversely, affected, by hearing, only one side, of the situation. I know firsthand that this person leaves out some really significant things about their part in all this, because they subjected me to a 'conversation' (verbal attack, on me) in which they tried at one point to get me to say they had no blame, and I sat silent, rather than lie about that for them; and by their own choosing they brought a few other people into that deeply distressing dialogue. They have to know God knows. When, our ultimate Judge, knows all of it, I am not willing to contradict that truth.

The only person that I did, finally, confide in about it is my best friend here, who has assured me that, he is trustworthy, with not sharing the things I've told him. The following Facebook Messenger post I sent to him recently, while I have been working on this blog post, speaks of my life improving so much, by this situation ending, and me going on with my life. I am much happier now this way, but I do realize that I also need to stop writing my blog posts, too, on a regular, required basis, as I have been doing, which is why I am writing this message to all of my readers. I have prayed about it, for some months now, and I don't feel like I am  to stop writing my blog altogether. I do-- desperately-- need to reclaim my time, and start doing alot more for my holistic health such as more exercise than I am getting by sitting here, writing, for hours and days and weeks, on end, for years. There is also a realization in me that, now that I have covered all of my past life, in large measure, by the posts that I have written over these past few years, the challenge now is for me to, actively, live my present-day life, more so than write about it. There is only so much sand, in the hour glass, of my numbered days on this earth, and I have been setting aside, fully living, my life, for years now, as I took all this time to sit here, at my computer, and write about it. My writing blog posts has not been a waste of time, because, through that, I received, alot more clarity about things, that I wrote about, which brought about more healing to my injured soul. In other ways, it has shown me, how many open wounds, there still are in my psyche, that I am not yet healed of. Two steps forward, one step back,  it feels like as I try to be my best possible self while simultaneously being such a damaged soul. As I often say summarily, IT IS WHAT IT IS. I am what I am. This relationship-- this friendship that got trampled to death by all the other feelings I found myself dealing with, in dismay-- which, this post, is about, was a source of much laughter and, frankly intermittent, support and I miss having those aspects in my life, because they made my world a happier and warmer place. It, also, left me feeling, angry, indignant, gossiped about, stressed, played, treated extremely disrespectfully, at times, and like I am actually better off without it, on the whole.

The Facebook Messenger post, to my best friend, about this relationship situation:

The helplessness of being in its grasp emotionally and the vulnerability of it being able to wreck you is truly terrifying though and I am SO GLAD to BE BACK to my SANE SELF after my bout of TEMPORARY INSANITY! LOL! I am SO MUCH HAPPIER when I am NOT in such clutches and can have RATIONAL THOUGHTS again. I've been SINGLE and CELIBATE for SEVERAL DECADES now for GOOD REASON-- I LIKE BEING SINGLE (I just don't like being CELIBATE-- but my vibrators are a WONDERFUL 'fix' for that problem!). Um Hmmm.

I am celibate, but I address my health holistically, and sexual function, is a part of that. In fact, because, I have been living celibate, for so long, I developed vaginal atrophy according to my doctor, and was told that I needed to insert something in my vagina for stimulating blood flow, to try to stop the progression of this-- which can become increasingly problematic if it is not dealt with. That is why I started to rely on vibrators, because, an actual partner, has not been an option, for me, and my health-- body, soul, and spirit-- is very important to me. I have found that it's also a great stress release, which is an added bonus! Because vibrators are a very necessary part of my life now due to the vaginal atrophy, and a routine part of my healthcare-- doctor's orders-- my best friend, who happens to be, a male, is used to me saying that word. He's heard me use it regularly (the word not the vibrator, LOL!)-- probably 50 times so far. The ONCE I said it to this other guy, when I was drunk, he hung up on me. I sit here, shaking my head, at that, because, he is the same guy that stood outside my bathroom window, one day,... and is a hypocrite. I saw that and God saw that, so his acting holier-than-thou doesn't cut it with me. I also, didn't, act all self-righteous, or gossip about him, or make trouble, about it. I am a Christian saved by grace, but I do not feign a personal holiness that I don't have, and would never do so with someone that has seen different behavior, from me, and knows who I am, aside from that facade. I told him one day it was CRAP.

Although I have always published my blog posts on a regular schedule, to make it easier for my readers to know when the next one was available to them, and also, have let you know if something came up which was delaying a post, giving a time that I thought it would be published, online, after that delay, I am not going to be able to do that anymore, going forward, at least, for awhile. I really, really, really, need, to-- totally-- change, my daily habits, and routine, to address all my health concerns, and hopefully connect with more of a sense of being well grounded and at peace, again. >sigh< I believe, it's become a matter of survival, for me, at this point, and possibly, even, a life-or-death decision, because of the terrible toll, this stress has taken, on me, especially, in recent months. I hope, you will forgive me, and indulge me, as I do this for myself, now. Whenever I do post something new, on my blog, I will post a notice about that on social media: Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest. I have an Instagram account, but don't really enjoy using that platform, at this juncture. I also need to spend alot less time on social media going forward. I have health programs that I have never viewed or engaged with, for learning Tai Chi, for developing my yoga poses, for doing more dance-ercise routines and even

some movies, which I purchased, years ago, but have never even seen (including, Fifty Shades Of Grey-- inspiration for fantasies, that are the necessary fuel for the vibrators to work!). I need to exercise more, including walk more. Sitting, so long,

as I do here while I am writing these lengthy blog posts, has caused me to have a pain in my hip, that I cannot allow, because it can progress, into causing me to be lame. I have a long list of projects that I need to do, on my home, and I also want to do more cooking, and baking, and sharing those things, with others, as I can. A vacation, would do me a world of good, as well. I haven't had one for many years.

@xirtempest Sometimes, the truth is so incredibly difficult to accept, it feels like it betrays you. It cuts so deeply into your perception of reality, your ego dies for a moment. Then you come back and realize your closest and dearest friend disguised as the enemy, actually saved your life.

I have tears in my eyes saying this but the inevitable rejection by my friend that I so deeply cared about left me feeling so damaged in my self-esteem, even though I know that, there was no other possible outcome, regardless, of the value I do or do not have as a human being, so in that sense I really should not take it as hard as I have, personally. Nevertheless, I need to do what I can to repair the damage to myself, which has manifested in several different forms as I have acted out my anger and pain that this even happened to me at all, when I didn't expect it and I wasn't wanting it. I can only work on me, and at this point, I feel that, I have alot of work to do, on me. In fact, that, alone, should, keep me quite busy, for awhile! So, thank you again, readers, for your presence in my life. For being companions, to me, as I walk the path that is unique to who and what and where I am in life. I promise I will keep you posted if I publish anything new on this blog of mine, and you are always welcome to check back, to see for yourself, as well. You may even get something out of reading past posts. There are now 68 posts, to choose from.

Christine @cmd8495 
It's not that you're afraid of love. It's the fear that everyone else is just like the last person who destroyed you.

- Deb Robinson

 

                                                           

* slick: a person who is smooth and persuasive but untrustworthy. 

** crazymaking: (Urban Dictionary definition) obsessive thoughts or overwhelming desire for something or someone, that causes a conflict struggle between meeting moral versus primitive needs/urges.

*** true north: "We’re talking about your own true north. That inner sense of what you want to accomplish in life. That calling keeps you on the right track, to being your authentic self." https://www.betterup.com/blog/find-your-true-north