HOPE

After months of therapy, it was time to move on. My heart wrenching, middle of the night prayers for God to bring Judy back to me, had not been answered. Friends were worried about my mental state. I had lost weight, looked terrible and was still battling depression. I took a second part time job and buried myself in work. But I was still painfully lonely. Once again I joined the telephone dating service that I had met Judy on, thinking there might be the remotest of chances that she would be there  looking for her perfect soul mate. I searched all the profiles in her age group. She wasn’t among them. No, I was sure she was happy with P and maybe even enjoying wedded bliss. To this day I would rather not know. I want to remember the Judy I loved. Who told me over and over that I was taken and no other woman could have me. The young, single Judy who had at one time needed me.

 I spoke with some very nice women but couldn’t hit it off with any of them. Then one day I starting chatting with Jean. I don’t remember how it got started. Who was the first to contact the other, but we were destined to meet. She was much older than me. A petite,  shapely brunette who dyed her hair and looked years younger. We wanted only a friendship. Like me, she was suffering from unrequited love. In our own personal pain we sought much needed support from the other. For Jean, it had become an obsession far worse than mine. I had left Judy completely alone. Refusing to check on her or drive by her house, although the temptation was there. Jean, on the other hand, drove by Tony’s place of business as well as his home several times a day. He was a much younger man, single, an auto mechanic  with whom  she was deeply in love. Tony would get annoyed with her snooping. Her calling him at all hours, begging for a little time together. They had occasional sex and not much else. She joined the same health club he did so that she could work out in the gym with him. For Jean, the obsession was wrecking her emotional health. She thought about him constantly. Poured her heart out to me on the phone. Our friendship blossomed quickly. We were two of a kind.  Riding on the same boat, struggling to stay above water. We talked daily about our lost loves. We reminisced. We shared out loud our thoughts of what had gone wrong. But Jean was far luckier than I. She still had Tony in her life. Was still making love with him even though he wouldn’t give his heart. None of it was healthy. She was drowning and she knew it. It was all so desperate. So sad. She knew it was unfair, to pursue him so fiercely. Calling herself a cradle robber because she was already beyond child bearing. I told her she needed Jesus. The funny thing is she often said she prayed for me, although she had no religious beliefs beyond the existence of  a God. She needed to find a church. For Jean and I it was free therapy. We were each others counselor. This was how we got through the day. We would meet at her favorite hamburger joint after I got out of work and talk for hours in a back room that was usually nearly empty. 

Then there was Hope. Not hope as in faith, hope and charity. But Hope as in a female.

Hope, Part ll

“No you don’t know the one  who dreams of you at night

And longs to kiss your lips and longs to hold you tight

To you I’m just a friend  that’s all I’ve ever been

But you don’t know me.”  (You Don’t Know Me)

One day Jean introduced me to Hope, a very good friend of hers. There’s a huge age difference between the two women. Hope was in her 20’s and Jean was 60. It was more a mother/daughter thing. Hope was also younger than me by about 10 years. She had Arboviral encephalitis which is an acute inflammation of the brain or spinal cord caused by mosquitoes. Continue reading

Secret Agent Man

“They’ve given you a number,
and taken away your name.”

Walking away from Hope was sad, but I knew it had to be done. We didn’t have a future together. We were so far  apart in a lot of ways. Even our hearts belonged to someone else. I was still missing Judy and continued to work 2 part time jobs. Each night I would be online for hours looking for a nice Christian girl to talk to. I made plenty of online friends, the types that are only there for a season and then they disappear. Finding someone special was like looking for a needle in a haystack. I thought of the bumper sticker that said: “Let go and let God.” Continue reading

Getting My Life Back

I was in jail exactly one month when my lawyer came to visit. I braced myself for more bad news. He was waiting for me at the opposite side of a long counter. Without saying a word, he pushed  a piece of paper toward me. I picked it up and began to read the few typewritten words. It was from the District Attorney and I saw the word “release.” I looked up at my lawyer. He had a sad smile on his face. Does this mean what I think it does? I had to read it again because there were a lot of legal terms. “Am I free, I asked?’ He nodded. I would have jumped out of my chair if I had the strength. My heart was fluttering. Could it really be? I was going home? Continue reading

Blog Interrupted

I need to interrupt this blog. Now seems like a really good time as I doubt anyone has been reading this from the beginning. A journal about one’s old love affair is not exactly interesting. I mean, who really cares anyway? Everyone has their own story that they’re obsessed with. That’s why a million blogs are floating around, all competing for attention. I’m no writer. My blog will never win any contests. It doesn’t contain any of the popular things like profanities and pictures of partial nudity. No F words here. Continue reading

A Few Good Friends

After I was released from jail, I had discovered that I lost friends. Even  people I knew from church. Those sweet older ladies who tried to find me nice single christian girls would no longer be willing to do so. I went to the library  to use the computer, since mine was still at a police lab. I had hundreds of emails to read. But I was more interested in seeing for myself what I had been sheltered from those 30 days I was locked up. I googled my name and there I was on page after page. I read  TV news clips, newspaper and magazine articles. blogger comments and the rantings of website owners who resorted to something akin to character assassination. As I continued to read, I was horror struck. Blood drained from my face and my knees grew weak. I was experiencing acute mental distress.  Many were unbelievably cruel things. I couldn’t read this stuff anymore and ran out of the library. Continue reading

Curiosity Seekers

This is why the media and internet bloggers had a field day. They had soon forgotten why I was in jail in the first place. There was this morbid curiosity about chromosomes and anatomy.  What exactly was my birth defect? Was it a rare form of Hermaphroditus? Why didn’t my organ develop fully? The detectives were the first to dig this up. My lawyer was outraged. He said my privacy and civil rights were being violated. He insisted that we sue.  But it was too late. The damaged had already been done. Continue reading