So, the weeks passed.
Dave came here in February for his birthday (and he got food poisoning when I took him out to celebrate his birthday...we spent the entire weekend dealing with that....).
He came back again for my birthday (and we picked out my engagement ring).
Then, I went to Oklahoma for a week in May.
By the time I went there, we had set our date.
While I was there, D and I worked out a basic outline for our wedding ceremony.
We talked about writing our own vows, and we discussed who would do the ceremony. We came up with ideas, and made reservations, for our honeymoon.
I went home and contacted my realtor, and asked my friend to marry us.
My place went on the market June 1.
I listed with someone I thought would do a good job, because I knew him and his wife from many years of working together at the Renaissance Faire.
I figured, while he had not the best rep with the rennies, this is his LIVELIHOOD...he was bound to do an actually GOOD job at THIS!!
Long story short is that he did not.
He dropped the ball.
He stopped returning my calls. He never put together the virtual tour he promised. He didn't list the property correctly. He never installed a key box (so no other realtors could access the property if he was not here to open the door).
He didn't show up when he said he would....and I had to fire him.
Had. To.
Because, you see, through these weeks and months, I had built up an idea in myself that moving to Oklahoma was now something I WANTED TO DO.
I was not comfortable with the "wait and see," lack luster attitude that my realtor seemed to have. I needed someone to be aggressive, and get this place SOLD!
The process of going from the original idea of moving, to putting my place on the market and preparing to move, took me through the gambit of thoughts and feelings.
Anyone who has uprooted their life to make it better has, no doubt, gone through this.
So, by the time I listed my property, I was READY to GO!!
And then, in the midst of the housing market being bad, the CONDO market took a sudden, sharp drop of 80%.
Yes, that's EIGHTY.
In the course of one month.
SO, not only did I hire a lazy realtor who did not do his job, but, add to the mix the fact that the condo market had been healthy ONE MONTH before I listed, and then it, too, collapsed like the rest of the housing market.
As a result of my realtor's shortfalls, what I ended up doing was hiring his boss. She assured me that, though the market had changed drastically since I listed, this property would be seen, and someone would place an offer in 2 weeks.
As of today, I am still on my second realtor, and my condo has been shown exactly 3 times since June 1st.
No offers.
But I do have to say that the new realtor did put up the virtual tour immediately. She installed a key box on her first visit, and she has been responsible for the 3 showings that have happened.
So...anyway...my husband lives in Oklahoma.
His son moved out of their apartment to make way for my arrival.
My condo is the one reason I am not there yet.
There are several factors at play here that keep me in place, that are related to the condo.
First of all, and most importantly, is my health.
Second is my desire to not have to actually PAY someone to buy my home! I have already dropped my price to the level at which I will be making NOTHING on the sale. My investment will have been for naught other than a roof over my head for the time I have been here.
The investment will not have grown one penny in that time. It's 6 years now.
Anyway, regarding my health, I have previously been diagnosed with adrenal insufficiency, and adrenal exhaustion.
My adrenals do not know how to function properly, so stress effects me more intensely than someone with normal adrenals.
The ideal situation would be the one that causes the least stress. That would be true for anyone, but for someone with stress related illness, it's multiplied.
That low stress scenario would be :
list condo
get married
sell condo
move
adapt to new home
adapt to being away from friends and family
get new job
start new job
etc....
The worst possible scenario for my health would be:
list condo
get married
condo does not sell
get job in oklahoma while still living here
quit present job on a friday
take TWO DAYS OFF to move, adapt to new home, and adapt to being away from friends and family (all during this two day weekend, because there will BE NO OTHER TIME for it)
start new job the following monday (this would be the only way i could afford to continue to pay my mortgage)
keep paying mortgage on home i no longer live in, making it impossible for me to contribute to my new household
OR
list condo
get married
condo doesn't sell
try to find a tenant
ask tenant to pay $1500 a month rent for a one bedroom
(so i can afford to pay my mortgage, the association dues, AND a manager to keep an eye on things)
move
etc.
OR
list condo
get married
condo doesn't sell
find a tenant willing to pay through the nose for a 1 bedroom
move
etc
tenant causes damage or disruption
i have to pay fines
I have had many people ask me "why don't you just pack up and GO?"
Do you think it's that easy? Perhaps when you see it all put the way I have above, you will understand my motives more clearly.
I could just pack up and go. Default on my mortgage and file bankruptcy, and ruin my health. Yeah, great idea.
But I really would prefer to start my life with D on a better note.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
"Complete satisfaction...."
My ex fiance...you know....the one who cheated on me with my married friend while I was living with him, taking care of his kids, doing his laundry and cooking, cleaning his house....
that one?
He works for a company whose motto is "Our goal...Complete satisfaction."
Well, I received a little dish of complete satisfaction at his expense this evening.
An undisclosed source, really the only person I interact with at all who knows us both anymore, said to me "Are you ready for some gossip?"
Not, for a moment, thinking it would be about HIM...I said "Sure!"
She said "I've seen your wedding pictures. Your husband is very good looking. Your ex....is not."
She went on to elaborate that he has lost much of his hair, yet he still wears what there IS of it in a scraggly pony tail.
He has grown fat and bloated and unhealthy, and, to quote her directly, "He is just NOT aging well!"
Bwahahahahahahahahaha!!!
For a man who once thought he was god's gift to all womankind, and who centered his entire life on how handsome he was....this is very, very bad news.
For the woman who was once his wife to be, who was totally in love with him back then, and who was completely heart broken by his man-whore ways....this is very, VERY satisfying news!!
Bwahahahahahahaha!! I can't stop laughing!!!
that one?
He works for a company whose motto is "Our goal...Complete satisfaction."
Well, I received a little dish of complete satisfaction at his expense this evening.
An undisclosed source, really the only person I interact with at all who knows us both anymore, said to me "Are you ready for some gossip?"
Not, for a moment, thinking it would be about HIM...I said "Sure!"
She said "I've seen your wedding pictures. Your husband is very good looking. Your ex....is not."
She went on to elaborate that he has lost much of his hair, yet he still wears what there IS of it in a scraggly pony tail.
He has grown fat and bloated and unhealthy, and, to quote her directly, "He is just NOT aging well!"
Bwahahahahahahahahaha!!!
For a man who once thought he was god's gift to all womankind, and who centered his entire life on how handsome he was....this is very, very bad news.
For the woman who was once his wife to be, who was totally in love with him back then, and who was completely heart broken by his man-whore ways....this is very, VERY satisfying news!!
Bwahahahahahahaha!! I can't stop laughing!!!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Decisions, decisions
So, I have now come to the place in the story where D and I have promised ourselves to one another.
We did not set a date, nor make any firm decisions, for quite some time after that.
We didn't even discuss, in serious terms, who was going to have to move, until after 2008 arrived.
In fact, we had a very long, somewhat difficult, phone discussion on New Year's Day of this year. It took place on that day, because we had promised one another last year that 2008 would be the year of decision making.
It was at my impetus that we begin the discussion on the first day of the year, rather than putting it off, and putting it off. If we don't do it now, we're not going to, was my reasoning.
We are, as we well know, not that young any more. Time is of the essence, in many ways.
So, on January 1, 2008, we talked on the phone for several hours. During that conversation, D finally admitted that he could not, and would not, consider moving to Chicago.
He had, at one point, discussed the possibility with great enthusiasm.
However, by Jan. 1, he had not mentioned it in any kind of serious way since he had gotten a promotion earlier in 2007.
In fact, he stopped talking about the possibility altogether.
This was not lost on me. My past experience with the cheater had trained me to notice when my partner stops saying or doing things that had once been a regular part of his behavior.
Anyway, D's been at his current place of employment for something like 27 years.
He has no degree, yet he has worked his way up, and now has a highly technical, advanced position with the company.
If he were to try to move jobs, he'd never find anything with the same benefits, pay, or seniority at this stage of his life.
His job is what limited the discussion to the fact that I will have to move, and I have no choice, if I want to live with him, and start our life together now, rather than after he retires.
Period.
My job and my business are movable. His job is not. His job, in a nut shell, is our security, and our future, and I would have to give up my entire life as I know it, in order for us to have a marriage.
That sounds dramatic and exaggerated, but it really isn't, if you think about it.
I have lived here, in this town, for 23 years.
I have lived in this area of the country, in the same county, for my entire life. My dad lived in the same town, in this county, for his entire life.
Members of my family still live in the house I grew up in.
All of my parents, grand parents, and great grand parents are buried in the same cemetery.
This has been the only home I have ever known, or understood. My roots run very deeply here.
I have struggled to build a life for myself, especially over the past 6 years of being on my own.
I have long-standing friendships, a secure job, a home of my own, a business, and a well established hobby/pass time that involves others.
Trying to accept the idea of having to move away from everyone, and everything, that I have ever known, and that I have worked and sweated and cried for, for the sake of love, has been a very difficult, and heart-wrenching proposition.
It took me many months to move through the process.
I also have a dear friend or two who just didn't seem to quite GET IT, and they were, at moments, less than kind to me in the evolution of this process.
While they may have been through similar circumstances, they were much younger (and less established) when they went through it, and they really do not have any idea of what this is like for me personally. I've never been away from home for more than a couple of weeks at a time!
I respected THEIR past experience, why could they not respect my present experience?
I had hoped for more compassion than "Oh, just put on your big girl pants and deal with it!!"
I eventually presented this idea to my family and friends a little at a time, and was met with, shall we say, some less than happy responses.
The look on my niece's face utterly broke my heart. I had massage clients collapse in tears!
The stress has been overwhelming, and has had an impact on my health.
I have gone years at work without taking a sick day, and this year, which is only 3/4 of the way over, has seen me take several sick days already.
Most recently, for a freak injury to my lower back.
Anyway, after a few months, D and I decided to go ahead and set a date, and get this ball rolling.
I talked to my family about this, and my sister suggested we get married on Grandma's birthday, July 12th.
She suggested this for a couple of reasons....for one thing, she and her husband got married on the 12th of December, and the number 12 had always seemed to be a good thing for them.
They've been married, happily and successfully, for 28 years, or something like that. So, surely, the "12 factor" couldn't hurt.
Also, it was the weekend AFTER a busy holiday, which would make it more convenient for most people.
There was never any question about WHERE D and I wanted to get married....we would do it in the spot where we shared our first kiss. Where he had proposed. Where I had experienced other significant moments in my life....The Spruce Plot in the Morton Arboretum.
(the parking lot closest to the Spuce Plot, incidentally, is Arboretum parking area #12)
This is an area of the preserve that was planted by Sterling Morton himself in the 1920's, as an experiment to see if the land around DuPage county was rich enough to grow good lumber for the booming housing industry in what was becoming Chicagoland.
Now, as part of the preserve, the Spruce Plot is a quiet, almost magical place where the pine scent wafts down from above, the trail is soft with needles, and the sounds of suburbia are muffled, and far away.
We set the date, I contacted a realtor and listed my property for sale, and we crossed our fingers.
The rest was entirely up to me.
We did not set a date, nor make any firm decisions, for quite some time after that.
We didn't even discuss, in serious terms, who was going to have to move, until after 2008 arrived.
In fact, we had a very long, somewhat difficult, phone discussion on New Year's Day of this year. It took place on that day, because we had promised one another last year that 2008 would be the year of decision making.
It was at my impetus that we begin the discussion on the first day of the year, rather than putting it off, and putting it off. If we don't do it now, we're not going to, was my reasoning.
We are, as we well know, not that young any more. Time is of the essence, in many ways.
So, on January 1, 2008, we talked on the phone for several hours. During that conversation, D finally admitted that he could not, and would not, consider moving to Chicago.
He had, at one point, discussed the possibility with great enthusiasm.
However, by Jan. 1, he had not mentioned it in any kind of serious way since he had gotten a promotion earlier in 2007.
In fact, he stopped talking about the possibility altogether.
This was not lost on me. My past experience with the cheater had trained me to notice when my partner stops saying or doing things that had once been a regular part of his behavior.
Anyway, D's been at his current place of employment for something like 27 years.
He has no degree, yet he has worked his way up, and now has a highly technical, advanced position with the company.
If he were to try to move jobs, he'd never find anything with the same benefits, pay, or seniority at this stage of his life.
His job is what limited the discussion to the fact that I will have to move, and I have no choice, if I want to live with him, and start our life together now, rather than after he retires.
Period.
My job and my business are movable. His job is not. His job, in a nut shell, is our security, and our future, and I would have to give up my entire life as I know it, in order for us to have a marriage.
That sounds dramatic and exaggerated, but it really isn't, if you think about it.
I have lived here, in this town, for 23 years.
I have lived in this area of the country, in the same county, for my entire life. My dad lived in the same town, in this county, for his entire life.
Members of my family still live in the house I grew up in.
All of my parents, grand parents, and great grand parents are buried in the same cemetery.
This has been the only home I have ever known, or understood. My roots run very deeply here.
I have struggled to build a life for myself, especially over the past 6 years of being on my own.
I have long-standing friendships, a secure job, a home of my own, a business, and a well established hobby/pass time that involves others.
Trying to accept the idea of having to move away from everyone, and everything, that I have ever known, and that I have worked and sweated and cried for, for the sake of love, has been a very difficult, and heart-wrenching proposition.
It took me many months to move through the process.
I also have a dear friend or two who just didn't seem to quite GET IT, and they were, at moments, less than kind to me in the evolution of this process.
While they may have been through similar circumstances, they were much younger (and less established) when they went through it, and they really do not have any idea of what this is like for me personally. I've never been away from home for more than a couple of weeks at a time!
I respected THEIR past experience, why could they not respect my present experience?
I had hoped for more compassion than "Oh, just put on your big girl pants and deal with it!!"
I eventually presented this idea to my family and friends a little at a time, and was met with, shall we say, some less than happy responses.
The look on my niece's face utterly broke my heart. I had massage clients collapse in tears!
The stress has been overwhelming, and has had an impact on my health.
I have gone years at work without taking a sick day, and this year, which is only 3/4 of the way over, has seen me take several sick days already.
Most recently, for a freak injury to my lower back.
Anyway, after a few months, D and I decided to go ahead and set a date, and get this ball rolling.
I talked to my family about this, and my sister suggested we get married on Grandma's birthday, July 12th.
She suggested this for a couple of reasons....for one thing, she and her husband got married on the 12th of December, and the number 12 had always seemed to be a good thing for them.
They've been married, happily and successfully, for 28 years, or something like that. So, surely, the "12 factor" couldn't hurt.
Also, it was the weekend AFTER a busy holiday, which would make it more convenient for most people.
There was never any question about WHERE D and I wanted to get married....we would do it in the spot where we shared our first kiss. Where he had proposed. Where I had experienced other significant moments in my life....The Spruce Plot in the Morton Arboretum.
(the parking lot closest to the Spuce Plot, incidentally, is Arboretum parking area #12)
This is an area of the preserve that was planted by Sterling Morton himself in the 1920's, as an experiment to see if the land around DuPage county was rich enough to grow good lumber for the booming housing industry in what was becoming Chicagoland.
Now, as part of the preserve, the Spruce Plot is a quiet, almost magical place where the pine scent wafts down from above, the trail is soft with needles, and the sounds of suburbia are muffled, and far away.
We set the date, I contacted a realtor and listed my property for sale, and we crossed our fingers.
The rest was entirely up to me.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Getting old?
After four and a half days of intensive dance conditioning and training, all I had was a little lower back pain. I was SO thrilled!!
Then the day after I got back, I was doing laundry, and carrying a full basket toward the door, when I tripped on the corner of a rug and hurt my back.
It was feeling a lot better by yesterday, after a lot of stretching, and going to the chiropractor a couple of times.... and then....all I did was bend slightly at the waist, yesterday at the office, and something gave way.
I was in instant, excruciating pain. The pain started medially, next to the bottom of my spine, and radiated toward the left. It felt either like something was tearing, or like it was going into a gradual spasm from one end to the other.
I called my chiropractor, and she got me in last night. Driving to get there was a nightmare of pain. She did not do any adjustment, just ice, soft tissue work, and stretching. She also put me in a back brace, and called it a psoas sprain.
The pain fills the area between the INSIDE of my left sacroiliac joint, down toward the front of my left hip joint. So it basically goes through the left half of my pelvis.
This is exactly where the psoas muscle is....so it's pretty clear what's going on.
I was awake almost all night with pain. I only find relief lying a certain way, and with as much as I toss and turn on a GOOD night, last night was pretty sleepless. I'd fall asleep, and move, and wake up from the pain.
Ibuprofin takes the edge off, thankfully.
SO, I called in sick from work, because when I got up, I could barely walk.
I talked to the HR person, and assured her that, while yesterday's event happened at work, I do not intend to make this into a worker's compensation issue.
I know my body's history, and I know physiology, and I have too much integrity to try to turn this situation to my advantage.
This could just as easily have happened at home, feeding the cat, or picking up the mail.
She didn't seem to care, but I did, so I had to tell her that.
I return to the chiropractor tonight, unless she wants to see me earlier in the day, now that I am off work. She may send me for xrays. Great...more driving.
This is my first inkling of not being a teenager anymore. It's depressing!
Then the day after I got back, I was doing laundry, and carrying a full basket toward the door, when I tripped on the corner of a rug and hurt my back.
It was feeling a lot better by yesterday, after a lot of stretching, and going to the chiropractor a couple of times.... and then....all I did was bend slightly at the waist, yesterday at the office, and something gave way.
I was in instant, excruciating pain. The pain started medially, next to the bottom of my spine, and radiated toward the left. It felt either like something was tearing, or like it was going into a gradual spasm from one end to the other.
I called my chiropractor, and she got me in last night. Driving to get there was a nightmare of pain. She did not do any adjustment, just ice, soft tissue work, and stretching. She also put me in a back brace, and called it a psoas sprain.
The pain fills the area between the INSIDE of my left sacroiliac joint, down toward the front of my left hip joint. So it basically goes through the left half of my pelvis.
This is exactly where the psoas muscle is....so it's pretty clear what's going on.
I was awake almost all night with pain. I only find relief lying a certain way, and with as much as I toss and turn on a GOOD night, last night was pretty sleepless. I'd fall asleep, and move, and wake up from the pain.
Ibuprofin takes the edge off, thankfully.
SO, I called in sick from work, because when I got up, I could barely walk.
I talked to the HR person, and assured her that, while yesterday's event happened at work, I do not intend to make this into a worker's compensation issue.
I know my body's history, and I know physiology, and I have too much integrity to try to turn this situation to my advantage.
This could just as easily have happened at home, feeding the cat, or picking up the mail.
She didn't seem to care, but I did, so I had to tell her that.
I return to the chiropractor tonight, unless she wants to see me earlier in the day, now that I am off work. She may send me for xrays. Great...more driving.
This is my first inkling of not being a teenager anymore. It's depressing!
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
The engagement story
It was July of 2007.
He came into town on the 20th..I had to work that day, so he was here at my place all day. THAT sucked, but the cool part was that he went out walking around town looking for a place to buy me flowers!! (aw)
I came home to my love, and a beautiful bouquet!
We had dinner out that night, and he mentioned that he had a plan for Sunday, but that he couldn't elaborate on it just then...only that we had to be sure to get to the Renaissance Faire on SATURDAY.
(we had talked about getting matching Celtic knot rings (he's half Welsh, too!), sort of as a way to stay connected when we are apart--which is, obviously, most of the time--so I just figured he wanted to do some kind of little ritual around having these rings....little did I know....!!!)
So we went to Faire on Saturday, and he LOVED it. I took him to my favorite place for sterling jewelry, and he picked us out a pair of rings.
That night, he asked me if I wanted to do something with them to bless them, since I do that "Witchy stuff." I said sure, and created a spontaneous blessing ritual that we did together.
Next morning, he was up WAY early, clinking dishes in the kitchen. I tried to go back to sleep, but he was making too much noise in this tiny place!
SO I got up. He made me breakfast, and asked if we could take a trip to the Arboretum, specifically to the place where we first kissed.
Sure, says I.
"I have some chores and errands to do, but we can go to the Arboretum. What would you rather do first? The errands, or the Arb?"
He emphatically chose going to the Arb first!
Then he asked if we could take WINE into the Arboretum. "No," says I, "but if we don't TELL anyone, who's going to know?"
(and I'm thinking..what does he want with WINE in the MORNING?)
So he asked where my thermos was, and he opened this bottle of mead he had bought on Friday, and poured a bit of it into the thermos. Then he packed up one of his favorite little stoneware mugs of mine, and I went and took my shower.
Then he showered. He asked me to get the rings, and I went to put them in his shirt pocket, and he stopped me...he dropped the rings into his pocket himself, and we were off to the Arboretum by around 9:30 or 10.
We drove in to the parking area close to "our spot," and got out of the car. He grabbed the tote bag, took my hand, and we walked down the trail.
By the time we got to our spot, his hand was shaking, and I was starting to get this niggling idea that maybe this wasn't just about exchanging friendship rings!!
He laid the rings out on the stone bench, unwrapped the mug, and poured the mead. Then he took a big breath, and said "I really didn't want to have to read this off of a piece of paper, but that's the only way I am going to get through this."
And he pulled a folded paper out of his shirt pocket (the same shirt pocket he had stopped me from touching earlier), and, with a shaking voice, read me the poem he had written his proposal into.
He even used the phrase "I plight thee my troth." (how perfect is that for me???!!!)
I, of course, burst into tears and threw my arms around his neck.
He laughed a bit uneasily and said "That's not really an answer. I need an answer...for all I know, you could tell me to f* off."
I assured him that I was not going to tell him to f* off, and that he should KNOW that!! I said that the tears on my face were pure joy.
I took some of the tears, and anointed his ring with them. I said that I really was at a total loss for words, other than to say "yes," and "what you said," as I placed his ring on his hand.
Then he put my ring on my hand.
He said there was no need for me to say anything else....the only word that mattered was "yes." We toasted with our wine to seal the deal!
He came into town on the 20th..I had to work that day, so he was here at my place all day. THAT sucked, but the cool part was that he went out walking around town looking for a place to buy me flowers!! (aw)
I came home to my love, and a beautiful bouquet!
We had dinner out that night, and he mentioned that he had a plan for Sunday, but that he couldn't elaborate on it just then...only that we had to be sure to get to the Renaissance Faire on SATURDAY.
(we had talked about getting matching Celtic knot rings (he's half Welsh, too!), sort of as a way to stay connected when we are apart--which is, obviously, most of the time--so I just figured he wanted to do some kind of little ritual around having these rings....little did I know....!!!)
So we went to Faire on Saturday, and he LOVED it. I took him to my favorite place for sterling jewelry, and he picked us out a pair of rings.
That night, he asked me if I wanted to do something with them to bless them, since I do that "Witchy stuff." I said sure, and created a spontaneous blessing ritual that we did together.
Next morning, he was up WAY early, clinking dishes in the kitchen. I tried to go back to sleep, but he was making too much noise in this tiny place!
SO I got up. He made me breakfast, and asked if we could take a trip to the Arboretum, specifically to the place where we first kissed.
Sure, says I.
"I have some chores and errands to do, but we can go to the Arboretum. What would you rather do first? The errands, or the Arb?"
He emphatically chose going to the Arb first!
Then he asked if we could take WINE into the Arboretum. "No," says I, "but if we don't TELL anyone, who's going to know?"
(and I'm thinking..what does he want with WINE in the MORNING?)
So he asked where my thermos was, and he opened this bottle of mead he had bought on Friday, and poured a bit of it into the thermos. Then he packed up one of his favorite little stoneware mugs of mine, and I went and took my shower.
Then he showered. He asked me to get the rings, and I went to put them in his shirt pocket, and he stopped me...he dropped the rings into his pocket himself, and we were off to the Arboretum by around 9:30 or 10.
We drove in to the parking area close to "our spot," and got out of the car. He grabbed the tote bag, took my hand, and we walked down the trail.
By the time we got to our spot, his hand was shaking, and I was starting to get this niggling idea that maybe this wasn't just about exchanging friendship rings!!
He laid the rings out on the stone bench, unwrapped the mug, and poured the mead. Then he took a big breath, and said "I really didn't want to have to read this off of a piece of paper, but that's the only way I am going to get through this."
And he pulled a folded paper out of his shirt pocket (the same shirt pocket he had stopped me from touching earlier), and, with a shaking voice, read me the poem he had written his proposal into.
He even used the phrase "I plight thee my troth." (how perfect is that for me???!!!)
I, of course, burst into tears and threw my arms around his neck.
He laughed a bit uneasily and said "That's not really an answer. I need an answer...for all I know, you could tell me to f* off."
I assured him that I was not going to tell him to f* off, and that he should KNOW that!! I said that the tears on my face were pure joy.
I took some of the tears, and anointed his ring with them. I said that I really was at a total loss for words, other than to say "yes," and "what you said," as I placed his ring on his hand.
Then he put my ring on my hand.
He said there was no need for me to say anything else....the only word that mattered was "yes." We toasted with our wine to seal the deal!
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Building walls, and tearing them down again
After what happened with Rich, I decided to wrap my heart in barbed wire, and be VERY selective about who I would let come near it.
I had, as I have mentioned before, truly loved him, and had opened my heart to him utterly, only to have him trash it like it was nothing.
In retrospect, I know that during my processes of losing lovers, over and over and over, I developed a pretty sad set of assumptions about myself.
First to loosen the barbed wire was Canada Dave. I think I really loved him, but his circumstances were such that, right when we were first involved, he moved home to Ontario. It was just bad timing. (he still has a place in my heart...he never actually did anything to hurt me!) We never had the TIME to find out what might have been...so I re-wrapped the barbed wire about my heart, and moved on.
After that, I had let the barbed wire fall away with Teece, only to have him abandon me, too.
So, over time, I figured that, since my ex husband had abandoned me in favor of drugs and alcohol, and then my ex fiance had abandoned me for one of my best friends (who was married), and then, one after the other, the guys I actually tried to develop relationships with were dropping like flies....mostly without any explanation....
there must be something fundamentally wrong with me.
That was how it was. What else could it be?
That, and I also decided that love didn't really exist. It was a fallacy. A fantasy.
So, I built walls around my heart, and put the barbed wire back around it, and became so closely guarded and shielded that I would not, COULD not, let myself "fall" again.
If love was a made up fairy tale, anyway, what would it matter?
I'd simply learn to accept being single, and I'd look forward to the day when I could be the crazy cat lady in the old old house, with 47 cats, and people coming to me to cast spells for them.
This is what D had to deal with when we first were involved. My fear was so thick, so insurmountable, that I was unable to match his affections for quite some time.
Despite all of this, he somehow managed to fall for me, head over heels, hook line and sinker, pretty quickly.
This, in itself, was very scary for me. I think, at one point, I told him to "Cut it out!"
He had warned me of his tendency to "focus" on things, and that he had suspected that he would "focus" on me pretty easily. He did.
When we were first in touch, he was instantly smitten, so he tells me, and it just cascaded from there.
Yet, the poor guy was persistent in dealing with my hesitation to jump in with him.
He kept saying "I'm not going anywhere. You're it."
He assured me that there wasn't anything wrong with ME. He said that the character flaws all belonged to the men who had mis-treated me, and who had broken or mis-used my heart.
He said he recognized the jewel that I had kept hidden behind the walls and barbed wire, and he would wait for me to accept that.
He started telling me he loved me.
He meant it.
All I could say was ... "I know." Because I DID know he loved me. I could hear it in his words. See it in his eyes (when we had the chance to be on webcam), and just feel it as something that was literally TRUE.
It really didn't take that long for the holes in the mortar to begin. Several weeks into this process, while D was on vacation visiting the Universe and hobbitt, I finally said "I love you too" to him at the end of a conversation.
I thought he was going to burst with joy!
But the process of actually tearing down the walls, and cutting away the barbed wire, took several months.
There are still remnants of it there, I think, in my insecurities and uncertainties.
But he asked me to marry him anyway, despite my reserve. Last year, on July 22nd, during a visit here (only his third). He proposed in the most beautiful, and perfect, of ways.
We had only been together three times in person, but we had spent so many countless hours talking, and getting to really know one another, that it seemed like we had spent FAR more time together than three long weekends.
The walls came down, leaving only a few bricks, and some mortar. The barbed wire was cut away, and I allowed myself, finally, to fall in love.
I had, as I have mentioned before, truly loved him, and had opened my heart to him utterly, only to have him trash it like it was nothing.
In retrospect, I know that during my processes of losing lovers, over and over and over, I developed a pretty sad set of assumptions about myself.
First to loosen the barbed wire was Canada Dave. I think I really loved him, but his circumstances were such that, right when we were first involved, he moved home to Ontario. It was just bad timing. (he still has a place in my heart...he never actually did anything to hurt me!) We never had the TIME to find out what might have been...so I re-wrapped the barbed wire about my heart, and moved on.
After that, I had let the barbed wire fall away with Teece, only to have him abandon me, too.
So, over time, I figured that, since my ex husband had abandoned me in favor of drugs and alcohol, and then my ex fiance had abandoned me for one of my best friends (who was married), and then, one after the other, the guys I actually tried to develop relationships with were dropping like flies....mostly without any explanation....
there must be something fundamentally wrong with me.
That was how it was. What else could it be?
That, and I also decided that love didn't really exist. It was a fallacy. A fantasy.
So, I built walls around my heart, and put the barbed wire back around it, and became so closely guarded and shielded that I would not, COULD not, let myself "fall" again.
If love was a made up fairy tale, anyway, what would it matter?
I'd simply learn to accept being single, and I'd look forward to the day when I could be the crazy cat lady in the old old house, with 47 cats, and people coming to me to cast spells for them.
This is what D had to deal with when we first were involved. My fear was so thick, so insurmountable, that I was unable to match his affections for quite some time.
Despite all of this, he somehow managed to fall for me, head over heels, hook line and sinker, pretty quickly.
This, in itself, was very scary for me. I think, at one point, I told him to "Cut it out!"
He had warned me of his tendency to "focus" on things, and that he had suspected that he would "focus" on me pretty easily. He did.
When we were first in touch, he was instantly smitten, so he tells me, and it just cascaded from there.
Yet, the poor guy was persistent in dealing with my hesitation to jump in with him.
He kept saying "I'm not going anywhere. You're it."
He assured me that there wasn't anything wrong with ME. He said that the character flaws all belonged to the men who had mis-treated me, and who had broken or mis-used my heart.
He said he recognized the jewel that I had kept hidden behind the walls and barbed wire, and he would wait for me to accept that.
He started telling me he loved me.
He meant it.
All I could say was ... "I know." Because I DID know he loved me. I could hear it in his words. See it in his eyes (when we had the chance to be on webcam), and just feel it as something that was literally TRUE.
It really didn't take that long for the holes in the mortar to begin. Several weeks into this process, while D was on vacation visiting the Universe and hobbitt, I finally said "I love you too" to him at the end of a conversation.
I thought he was going to burst with joy!
But the process of actually tearing down the walls, and cutting away the barbed wire, took several months.
There are still remnants of it there, I think, in my insecurities and uncertainties.
But he asked me to marry him anyway, despite my reserve. Last year, on July 22nd, during a visit here (only his third). He proposed in the most beautiful, and perfect, of ways.
We had only been together three times in person, but we had spent so many countless hours talking, and getting to really know one another, that it seemed like we had spent FAR more time together than three long weekends.
The walls came down, leaving only a few bricks, and some mortar. The barbed wire was cut away, and I allowed myself, finally, to fall in love.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
The dating scene
Oh my goodness, there is nothing much worse than having to start dating after your 40th birthday has long since come and gone.
I can't imagine what it must be like for those who start after they turn 50!
For me, as a mild mannered, shy and reserved sort of person, there weren't a whole lot of options.
I didn't have any money to belong to any clubs or anything.
I did not, and still do not, enjoy going to bars.
I had never once seen an eligible man in the library, bookstore, or grocery store.
None of my friends were forthcoming with introductions, and the one who DID have someone for me to meet misjudged both me, and her friend, pretty extremely!
Anyway, I turned to the "innernets" (yes, I know it's not really spelled that way...but our president does not) for my first forays into dating since my divorce.
My husband was gone, my ex fiance and his married whore of a girlfriend were gone...and I was on my own.
I actually didn't waste a lot of time getting myself "out there." My brother always said about that, that I was an optimist from the beginning.
I remember him advising me, upon my being devastated and utterly heart-broken by Rich (I HAD actually, totally, utterly, loved that guy once), that no one was going to just magically appear at my door. He said that I'd have to get out there and make myself visible, and available, in order to meet someone.
I always had some kind of faith that there was someone out there for me....somewhere. So, I took my brother's advice, and, when I was ready, started looking.
I went to Match.com. I went to eHarmony. I went to a few that don't exist anymore. I went to Yahoo. I went to that one based on your Spirituality...can't remember the name of it now. I went to one based on your i.q. test results.
I tried them all.
Over the course of 5 or so years, starting when I was 41ish, I became acquainted with dozens of men on line. Emails and flirting and chatting on line.
When it felt safe, and they had begged enough, I would share my phone number.
When things progressed to the right level, I would agree to meet them.
Over those 5 or so years, I met 23 men. Most of them once. Most of them should have had big, bright red "L's" tattooed on their foreheads.
While I will admit that I did meet several very nice men, the vast majority of them should have been drowned at birth, or at the time of their divorce, just to save woman-kind from having to deal with their lies, their arrogance, and their stupidity.
No, really!
I had a whole list made up at one point, and in one of my former blogs, I wrote stories about some of the most memorable encounters.
Some of the names I gave to my "mystery dates" were:
Mullett Man John (he was my first actual date since I had met my ex husband, since Rich and I never actually dated)
Cheese head lawyer Bill (he considered it a compliment to tell me that it was nice that my thighs were not so fat as to hang over the sides of the chair at the restaurant he took me to.)
Bad hygiene Jamie (ew)
Woman hating Jeff (this guy was out to prove that all women could be categorized, compartmentalized, and controlled.....one date was too many with this one!)
Sociopath Simon (gawd)
Disappearing Designer Teece (I actually had a relationship with this one. After a few months, he came over every weekend. He met my friends. He had said he was falling in love with me....and then he just....vanished. Completely. Never heard from him again. See my poem :The White Crow:
Spanky Joe (don't ask)
Rotting teeth homeless Krist (yes, even I knew how to really hit bottom)
Very large ex-Mormon David
Mystery man Tommy (one moment, he can't wait to date me...the next minute, he stops calling and emailing, and stands me up....ok then!)
Short Scott
and, yes, even Married Gary!! ("I really like you, and want to see you again, but before we have our next date, there's something you need to know....because I really like you, and I don't want to go forward if you're uncomfortable with it....")
There were also a host of others I have now, mercifully, forgotten.
Ultimately, the last guy I was involved with, Jeff, was very sweet, very generous, and very interested in me.
Sometimes.
When we would get together, we'd have a great time. Lots of lively conversation, we'd go to movies, or stay in and play back gammon....and he was an utterly amazing kisser.
But he would only contact me when he was looking for some action, after a while.
Every 3 weeks to every month. I wanted a real relationship. He wanted someone to hook up with when he felt like it.
Nope. That was not for me.
By this time, 23 men, and 5 years into it, I was becoming disillusioned, frustrated, and bitter. These things were starting to come through in my blogs, my every day conversation, and in my every waking moment, so it seemed.
I'd had enough, and was really, truly ready to give up.
Now, mind you, I'd said that I was going to give up after each let-down. After Teece disappeared. After rotting tooth homeless guy proved to be a liar and a fake. After Gary said he was married. After Jeff stopped wanting to see me every day, and switched to once every several weeks....
...but I'd never really, actually given up.
Apparently, my friend, The Universe, was getting tired of hearing me say that I was going to. She was also noticing that bitter edge to my attitude.
(she's not really The Universe...that's one of her personas on the ever mysterious innernets)
So she emailed her friend D. She asked him first, if he would be at all interested in meeting her friend (me).
From what I heard, he was VERY enthusiastic and interested. Like a puppy dog being offered a treat, actually, was what it brought to mind.
She then emailed me. My response was "What can it hurt. It's not like Oklahoma City is close enough to be dangerous!"
And...so...it began.
She introduced us via email. He emailed me first, I think, and that first day, we exchanged 4 emails.
Not a day has passed since then that we have not been in some kind of contact.
After a couple of months of spending HOURS on the phone, on the innernets, and on the webcam, talking and getting acquainted...and falling in love....I invited D to come and visit me.
"It's not like Oklahoma City is close enough to be dangerous."
Yeah, right.
I can't imagine what it must be like for those who start after they turn 50!
For me, as a mild mannered, shy and reserved sort of person, there weren't a whole lot of options.
I didn't have any money to belong to any clubs or anything.
I did not, and still do not, enjoy going to bars.
I had never once seen an eligible man in the library, bookstore, or grocery store.
None of my friends were forthcoming with introductions, and the one who DID have someone for me to meet misjudged both me, and her friend, pretty extremely!
Anyway, I turned to the "innernets" (yes, I know it's not really spelled that way...but our president does not) for my first forays into dating since my divorce.
My husband was gone, my ex fiance and his married whore of a girlfriend were gone...and I was on my own.
I actually didn't waste a lot of time getting myself "out there." My brother always said about that, that I was an optimist from the beginning.
I remember him advising me, upon my being devastated and utterly heart-broken by Rich (I HAD actually, totally, utterly, loved that guy once), that no one was going to just magically appear at my door. He said that I'd have to get out there and make myself visible, and available, in order to meet someone.
I always had some kind of faith that there was someone out there for me....somewhere. So, I took my brother's advice, and, when I was ready, started looking.
I went to Match.com. I went to eHarmony. I went to a few that don't exist anymore. I went to Yahoo. I went to that one based on your Spirituality...can't remember the name of it now. I went to one based on your i.q. test results.
I tried them all.
Over the course of 5 or so years, starting when I was 41ish, I became acquainted with dozens of men on line. Emails and flirting and chatting on line.
When it felt safe, and they had begged enough, I would share my phone number.
When things progressed to the right level, I would agree to meet them.
Over those 5 or so years, I met 23 men. Most of them once. Most of them should have had big, bright red "L's" tattooed on their foreheads.
While I will admit that I did meet several very nice men, the vast majority of them should have been drowned at birth, or at the time of their divorce, just to save woman-kind from having to deal with their lies, their arrogance, and their stupidity.
No, really!
I had a whole list made up at one point, and in one of my former blogs, I wrote stories about some of the most memorable encounters.
Some of the names I gave to my "mystery dates" were:
Mullett Man John (he was my first actual date since I had met my ex husband, since Rich and I never actually dated)
Cheese head lawyer Bill (he considered it a compliment to tell me that it was nice that my thighs were not so fat as to hang over the sides of the chair at the restaurant he took me to.)
Bad hygiene Jamie (ew)
Woman hating Jeff (this guy was out to prove that all women could be categorized, compartmentalized, and controlled.....one date was too many with this one!)
Sociopath Simon (gawd)
Disappearing Designer Teece (I actually had a relationship with this one. After a few months, he came over every weekend. He met my friends. He had said he was falling in love with me....and then he just....vanished. Completely. Never heard from him again. See my poem :The White Crow:
Spanky Joe (don't ask)
Rotting teeth homeless Krist (yes, even I knew how to really hit bottom)
Very large ex-Mormon David
Mystery man Tommy (one moment, he can't wait to date me...the next minute, he stops calling and emailing, and stands me up....ok then!)
Short Scott
and, yes, even Married Gary!! ("I really like you, and want to see you again, but before we have our next date, there's something you need to know....because I really like you, and I don't want to go forward if you're uncomfortable with it....")
There were also a host of others I have now, mercifully, forgotten.
Ultimately, the last guy I was involved with, Jeff, was very sweet, very generous, and very interested in me.
Sometimes.
When we would get together, we'd have a great time. Lots of lively conversation, we'd go to movies, or stay in and play back gammon....and he was an utterly amazing kisser.
But he would only contact me when he was looking for some action, after a while.
Every 3 weeks to every month. I wanted a real relationship. He wanted someone to hook up with when he felt like it.
Nope. That was not for me.
By this time, 23 men, and 5 years into it, I was becoming disillusioned, frustrated, and bitter. These things were starting to come through in my blogs, my every day conversation, and in my every waking moment, so it seemed.
I'd had enough, and was really, truly ready to give up.
Now, mind you, I'd said that I was going to give up after each let-down. After Teece disappeared. After rotting tooth homeless guy proved to be a liar and a fake. After Gary said he was married. After Jeff stopped wanting to see me every day, and switched to once every several weeks....
...but I'd never really, actually given up.
Apparently, my friend, The Universe, was getting tired of hearing me say that I was going to. She was also noticing that bitter edge to my attitude.
(she's not really The Universe...that's one of her personas on the ever mysterious innernets)
So she emailed her friend D. She asked him first, if he would be at all interested in meeting her friend (me).
From what I heard, he was VERY enthusiastic and interested. Like a puppy dog being offered a treat, actually, was what it brought to mind.
She then emailed me. My response was "What can it hurt. It's not like Oklahoma City is close enough to be dangerous!"
And...so...it began.
She introduced us via email. He emailed me first, I think, and that first day, we exchanged 4 emails.
Not a day has passed since then that we have not been in some kind of contact.
After a couple of months of spending HOURS on the phone, on the innernets, and on the webcam, talking and getting acquainted...and falling in love....I invited D to come and visit me.
"It's not like Oklahoma City is close enough to be dangerous."
Yeah, right.
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