Beyond the Pane “The End” (True love is finally found)

All of the drinking, the bad attitude, and shaking from withdrawal the next day from his drinking binges, had done more damage to my psyche. He spent the past two month in one mood swing after another; he damaged my self-esteem in the bed room, isolated me from my friends and family, and physically and mentally abused my sons over fucking making a bed. I had held strong to the idea that in some way, somehow I could make things better. I spent all that summer so far, giving him what he wanted, helping him deal with withdrawal. I held his hand while he shook and talked him through those nights he wanted a drink but fought to be strong.

All of these things I could handle, but those words no matter how innocent and meaningless, represented what I wasn’t, what I couldn’t be anymore. If I had given in, well I was giving into the fact that I was no longer me and I had become what he wanted. What were those three little words?

“Iron my cloths”

Yeah I know… it would seem no big deal to anyone else, and maybe if he had been all the things I needed, all the things I was looking for than I could have seen those words in a different light. But in my mind, I was becoming someone I wasn’t; I remember well all those talks my husband had with me about the proper place of a woman. “She does for the man out of appreciation for providing and protecting, she cooks and cleans and stays pleasant for the man out of respect, if she cannot show respect than she deserves nothing, Even in her father’s house a daughter must respect her father, so When she has a husband she needs to respect and honor him. A woman shows her respect and honor by her actions”

What did I have to respect in Ruffo, even if that were the rules to go by? Than love, honor, cherish, being faithful and ironing cloths comes at an equal if not greater price. He has to be worthy of those things.

Ever have a true Epiphany..A knock you over, Oh My God! Why didn’t I see that before, Epiphany? You felt a little stupid; a little ashamed you couldn’t have learned that maybe a little sooner, taking into account perhaps how much true time you had wasted. Than you get this slow rising temperature build in your brain to the point you want to just explode. Most people release by saying a “Ohhhhhh” while others break off a few curse words, at their own unbelievable stupidity. Oh this was a cursing moment. “Oh my %^& son of a %^#@$()! Are you out of your ^#?)!! Mind?”

I grabbed his luggage from the closet, and started empting the contents from drawers into the suitcase. He started at me, trying to hold me from putting more of his things in the case. I stopped, looked him straight in the eye, with a calm almost insane smile. I spoke softly as I looked from under my brow “I gave you two months, I gave you every chance in those two months to show me that we fit, I made changes in myself to be all the things you wanted me to be, thinking I could accept those changes in myself, all for “love”. Ok I did that and nothing {I} did was good enough or sufficient to keep you from drinking, or keep you from yelling at me or my kids. I am done being the one to change, and I will not do even one more thing for you except drive you to the bus station.”

There is a time in people’s lives where they hit a point of no return, where they have to decide either to keep going and accept what they have done and who they have become; or they must decide to self-evaluate and make a change in direction as a last ditch effort to keep from being who they have become. I tried his way, I tried that road too many times and it always brought me to the same spot in life.

I am not that happy little house wife, “yes dear, no dear, anything for you dear” I cannot even for one more moment be that woman. I will not be told who I am and what I know, and I will not be left a victim! I will not be forced into doing things I do not want to do because some other person’s thinks it is “For my own good”. I will not be told the “things that are wrong with me” when I have nothing wrong with me at all. I am the perfect Me, I am exactly who I want to be, and no amount of mental, sexual, verbal and physical abuse is going to change that.

I love myself and I accept who I am no matter how often people have tried their level best to keep me from doing that. I do not need others approval, I do not need a person to say I am beautiful to know I am. I do not have to have someone to love me to know I am worth being loved. I spent my whole life to this point trying to be what others thought I should be or tried to make me be. I didn’t think well enough of myself to believe I deserved respect or I should be valued. I am more than what others love.

Ruffo was gone that day. And I never wondered for one second if I had made the right decision. I knew I was not meant to save him, but he did teach me to save myself. I have been broken hearted, rejected, raped, forgotten, cheated on, prostituted, disrespected, almost murdered twice, and put second to addiction. I have placed myself in these situations in the search of love, but not in search of a man’s love or even a woman’s love. In the end of my search I found self-love.

I know you expected a Happily-Ever-After, lord knows we are taught growing up that the man always rides off into the sunset with his fare madden and we end the story imagining the sweet kiss of our own true love, blink, blink, blink. The only way there could be a happily-ever-after is if they were tragically murdered as they ride out of our sight. No one imagines their fight over Prince Charming squeezing the tooth paste in the middle or Beauty charging too much on the credit card, and then in the true “End”, if they do not divorce from Charming being a little too charming and screwing the secretary, because Beauty got fat and ugly; than they get old and one dies of a heart attack and the other is left to live a sad cold existence in an old age home with only a memory.

I prefer this ending, I will not be forever alone in all actuality this story was written about my life 4 years ago and sense than I have loved and lost and love again. I have gone through more tragedies and suffered more heart break. The only difference is that while the laughs and sweet emotions are worth the payment of sadness, I appreciate the tears because I know they will not kill me and the love I feel for a man is only equal to a love I feel for myself. My search for my equal in love….. is another story.

I have been thinking of publishing this story along with a continued story
donate to my writing fund so my words can flow in the future




Beyond the Pane XV (Beyond belief)

At the airport, I got there too early and sent the boys to the café for lunch, I was too nerves to eat. I just sat there and watched the planes taxi in, I knew his plane wouldn’t be for another hour so none of these planes carried the man I was so looking forward to yet be frightened to meet. I say meet because it is like I never knew him. He was nothing like the man I used to know. If I didn’t know better I would have sworn that the man I knew then died and in his place they put another, a bit older, some same features and similar accent.

Ruffo was no longer the dreamer, he had a rough life and seen a lot of things. His heartbreaks and disappointments had made him, in a lot of ways, cold and distant. The only reason I agreed to this trip was because I started to hear glimpses of hope in his voice, he had started to let himself trust me again. I could hear the smile in his voice.

I watched a very well dressed, business looking man step off the plane and I knew it was him, he stopped to talk with a pilot that exited with him and they exchanged handshakes. I wondered if he knew the pilot or whether he was just that social. I greeted him with a hug, like most the families and friends greeting their loved ones in the terminal, he felt hard and strong and if I had not been so self-conscious I might have let myself enjoy it, but it mostly just felt a bit awkward, the boys took his luggage, I couldn’t look at him, I don’t know what it was, maybe I was ashamed, maybe it was going to take some getting used to. I joked that I was just quiet because of my nerves but it was more than that. I was scared to death.

What if he was one of those “good guys” I had avoided like the plague, than I was looking at changing my life again to make room for him? And if he wasn’t who he said he was, if he wasn’t done drinking or partying, than what? I was opening myself up to a hell of a lot of drama for nothing. It was those thoughts that kept me on edge and even the drive back to the house I was preoccupied with my own thoughts. I know he must have been talking but I just smiled occasionally and nodded.

Back at the house he unpacked, I watched as he organized each piece of clothing perfectly in the drawers, every shirt with a crease “where had I seen this before?” he even straightened the bed covers to a flat wrinkle free surface before sitting next to me. I thought to myself “Odd, I know I have seen this” it took a few minutes of the way he walked, the way he sat and crossed his legs, he brushed his pant and straightened himself before looking at me and talking, like he was waiting for the picture (It was Chris) I tried all these years to forget his silly mannerisms, his pretentious air. Yet here I was face to face with the demon again (perfectionist)

Now let me give you a fast explanation why I cannot be with a perfectionist. I am not a slob, I understand that for health reasons that trash needs to be kept up with, I understand that an unsightly house makes for an unsightly life. I am an artist, and artist’s mind does not do well under restraints, I have to be free. If I want to cover myself head to toe in my work, frantic with creativity and fall asleep sitting at the isle at 4 am. I do not need a Man telling me to clean up my mess, take a shower and come to bed.

I spent my marriage ironing for Chris every day, I ironed his work uniforms, I ironed his Jeans, for God’s sake, I ironed his underwear. Seeing Ruffo’s perfectly ironed to a crease shirts alarmed me, I am not ironing his cloths! I tried to calm my unfounded frustrations; it is not like he was going to expect me to iron his cloths. He never told me “Oh yeah and Debby I am going to change you and mold you into the perfect little Martha Stewart house wife”. I had to remind myself that this was just one summer. He had first agreed to go to a hotel weeks ago, but as I felt more and more comfortable with him as his travel date drew nearer, we had decided to have him stay with us and he said that he would have more money to spend on more enjoyable things.

“Enjoyable things” I guess that definition has many alternative meanings. His thought of what was enjoyable wasn’t the same as mine, or my children. He bought “Wine” to celebrate and I told him no, I knew alcoholics should never drink, not even a wine cooler, not even a sip of wine at church. It didn’t even matter that it wasn’t hard liquor I knew from relatives and friends, but there was no detouring him.

In less than a week he was drinking and hiding the bottles. Ruffo was happy when he had already been drinking or when he was thinking of getting something to drink, but if couldn’t drink than he was not a happy man. He was cold, strict and angry at the world. He once spent 2 hours trying to teach, I mean yell at the twins on the proper way to make a military style bed. He actually flipped the coin on it and all.

He got a job after about a month, I believe he had drank his spending money, but I welcomed him being way from home for a while each day. I could relax and breathe for at least 5 hours before walking on egg shells again. I tried to not let people see my torture; I even hid how I felt from my family and my children. But I think everyone had an idea to my unhappiness. I stopped wearing makeup, I didn’t care what I looked like. My depression was deeply hidden but the symptoms were obvious.

I watched as my happy family turned into a nightmare, and if he wasn’t yelling at me for keeping a messy house than he was keeping me locked in the bedroom. Sex was the only thing that satisfied him when he wanted to drink. I will not turn this into a bashing of sexual skills, it is not my intention to say who was or was not good in bed, this book is not about sex, it is about the pain I endured for love. I believe that everyone has their abilities in some areas and others are much more skilled then some. Ruffo was bound by his obsessive compulsive tendencies.

I lay across the bed, waiting for him. He walked in the room from the shower. “Aren’t you going to take a shower now?” I said I just took a shower earlier, but he insisted that I take another. “Now lay straight in the center” I asked what difference does it make where I lay? Come on…. But he continued to get more and more obsessed to how I should lay, where my hair was, I could have been a doll and I do not think it would have been a difference to him, maybe he would have liked it better because half way into our intimate encounters he told me I was being too loud. I wasn’t allowed to touch his head or face; I wasn’t supposed to move at all really. I was also not to attempt oral sex… ever!

He had some unwritten set of rules that had to be adhered to in the bedroom or he just could not preform. I wanted to look past these quirks because sex actually wasn’t important to me anymore. Oh I loved sex and I had it quite often with (me myself and I) I really didn’t need anyone to please me. Emotions and feelings was the only thing anyone could offer me at this point in my life and let’s face it that was the only real department that he truly was completely lacking.

Ruffo once told me when we were sitting outside one evening “You know Deb I had a good life, I had so much good times, friends and travel that people thought I would never settle down and have a family. And there you were to prove them all wrong. I can’t wait to tell them all I found my family” I thought that was a compliment, I thought maybe in some way he was commenting on us being a good match or that he really loved us. But IT WASN’T, he actually just meant what he said, he wanted to prove them wrong and that he could have a family, lord knows he wasn’t being the loving part of the family, but he fit well with the phrase “Master of the house”.

He said those three words, those words that I dread more than pulling teeth; I could live my entire life and never hear them again.

You guys guess what those words are….. and I will finish the writing.

Beyond the Pane XIV

At the beginning of this book I found the old postcard from Ruffo. The memories of a time long past and a life I had dreamed of having haunted me. I knew in all the relationships I have never really done anything deserving of the abuse and fowl treatment that I was given. I knew that it was of no matter, I wasn’t meant to be with them. Most of the torcher I went through was of my own ignorance, trying to hold on to men I knew were bad for me or didn’t fit. I was determined to make them fit. But Ruffo, He did nothing wrong and I forgot him like he was… nothing.

I never even wondered once were he was or how he had been. I was ashamed of myself for being one of “Those women” That would ignore the good men and run into the arms of bad. To add to the damage I had done, I thought I had just disappeared and that Ruffo had just stopped calling, but Talking to my Mother I found out that Ruffo had called one time and she overheard my frustrated father tell him that “Deborah is married with a son, I think you should stop calling”

I had written Ruffo a letter, simple and sweet really:

Dear Ruffo

I wonder if you remember me or the small city Evansville Indiana that you visited on your travels with the carnival in 1987.

My name is Deborah and we spent many months talking on the phone. I hope that I haven’t brought you any bad memories of the past; I know our parting was sudden and no explanation was given.

I was going through some boxes and seen a postcard from you, and just had to see how you were and apologies for disappearing so many years ago. I hope you are doing well, I assume you are married with 10 children, I know you always did say you loved children. I am enclosing a few pictures of me, my 3 sons and the post card. I just want you to know that I am truly sorry and if it is any consolation to you, I have suffered many times over for what I did to you.

I hope this letter finds you well and happy

Deborah Cavins

Ps notice the name has not changed, I was married for a few months and then quickly divorced

I do not know why I wanted so badly to write Ruffo. I could have chosen to forget him and never look that way again, but something made me wonder, had I left behind the love I was supposed to have? What if all of this drama and heart wrenching pain was never supposed to happen? What if I had just taken the wrong path?

I will be honest, just like most books and stories written I had an idea even with this auto-biography that there should be a happy ending. I wanted this story that was my life to have meaning; I wanted my fairy tale ending. Never once in all my life have I ever cried to god “Why? Why are you doing this to me?” I wanted to think that all the faith I held on to all these years should have some kind of reward.

With those questions in my mind I leaped with excitement at the letter post marked from Ruffo. I ran into the house and just sat there a minute. Hands shaking too hard to actually open the letter and I just stared at it. I cannot describe in words the amount of emotion I was feeling, I actually had no expectations, that letter could have any number of scenarios within it. I tried to ground myself by imagining him being angry with me, with curses and threats. I thought of all the bad things he would say to me and him asking why after all these years did I reopen a wound he had spent so much effort to heal.

I took a deep breath and opened it paying attention to every word.

Well Hello Debby

Wow it has been a long time, and you are just as beautiful as I remember you, maybe even a little prettier. I was surprised when my mother told me I had mail from a Deborah Cavins, I was just talking about you the other day to my friend. I wonder how you were doing. Yes, Deborah, I have always wondered what happened to you and whether you were happy in your marriage. I have had my share of difficulties, health problems and my father died 5 years ago.

My Parents were very support after we stopped taking. I did buy a house for you and when your father said I was too late, I was very devastated, but hey, life goes on. I have had several relationships throughout the years but none I felt needed to be permanent. I never married, I never had children, I would like to be able to tell you more but I am on my way to work now and wanted to send this letter to you as soon as possible. Here is my phone number and a few pictures of me now, hope to hear from you soon.

I still love you

Ruffo

What? He what? Oh my God! I was mixed between regret for hurting him, pity for his remembrance of me and not having a good life, or what if he had some devious underlying plan to get revenge. Who the hell keeps a flame burning for someone after almost 20 years? Opps that’s right, I would. Crap! Now I was all confused, I almost wish he had cursed me and swore his hatred of me. I emptied the envelope of its content and there, just as he had said, were two pictures: One standing proudly at the entrance to a movie theater in Chicago, joking with his friends and the other wearing a suit with his mother at what looks like a church.

I had forgotten how he looked, I never had a picture of him, I have only the memories of that carnival and his respectful, protective manor, he had long black hair and tan skin. We had talked for hours, everyday on the phone, when I was young, we planned a wonderful future, and those dreams were what I remembered. He seems to be much older in these photos, with all grey army cut hair and a broad smile. This man in the photos enjoyed life and had the scares to prove it. I wondered, he dressed nice and looked to have a very active life in the big city, would I even have the ability to keep up with such a social man?

I made the call. I listened to the phone ring, and then ring again. I watched the clock as it rang again there was no answer and just as I was hanging up the phone, I heard a faint voice ladies voice “Hola!” I said hello back and asked for Ruffo. “he is not here, you call later, ok?” I said ok thank you Madre.

“Debby? You call my Ruffo Debby? I so happy hear you again, Ruffo need you Debby, I call him and tell him you ask for him, Ok?”

I hadn’t realized what she was saying was more than her broken English (Ruffo needs you) was really what she was attempting to say. Ruffo did call me, he was so happy, I tried to stay grounded, but at the same time, I really enjoyed talking about old times. I heard all about his life, the places he has been and how he helped raise his best friend’s son. He seemed so educated, he spoke so fluently and wise it was hard for me to understand the next part of his life. He tried to nicely but truthfully tell me how he was so upset over loosing me that he gave our house to his sister. He had started drinking and just never stopped. While I was suffering from one man to another he was suffering the bottle. He was able to maintain a few jobs but wasn’t able to actually make a carrier of any of them.

He had stopped drinking after his father died but not before he had done liver damage and now had diabetes. He has occasionally fell off the wagon and had been hospitalized for his binges. He assured me that those days were past and that he has been trying to straighten his life. What could I say? I knew that my past was what it was, it had done its share of damage, and I expected others to overlook my past and my mistakes. I felt like I had an obligation, I had been what caused him so much pain that it plummeted him into the depths of alcoholism. Even if I had not been the cause, maybe if I had been there for him he would have had something other than the bottle to look forward to.

Months of talking on the phone and getting closer and closer to him, we made plans for him to come and spend the summer (he called it his vacation)

almost reaching the end… If you like what you have read, please donate now to my writing fund





Gemini

I wonder why your symbol is the twins? Could it be because of your dual nature. Relax Gemini usually do get what they work for, you just seem to have a way to entice people to believe in your way.

The Astrological sign Gemini is noted for a few more quirks. Bio-polar and Mostly likely to be OCD, they have an extreme difficulty in letting go. What might seem as a personality flaws can be an asset.

Extremely focused on their work and strongly driven. Double the workload gives you something to do…. almost passionate about winning. The Gemini makes a wonderful business minded person, obsessed with details. But a horrible gambler (being of 2 minds about every decision) Jeckel and Hyde syndrome runs amuck with this sign and Gems are constantly fighting to regain balance.

Unfortunately Gemini are an acquired taste so unless you marry a person that is either a Cancer or Gemini themselves or had grown up with a Gemini, there will always be hurt feeling and disappointment.

(no one can stack up to a Gemini’s expectations).

As a child you were mostly spoiled and dotted over by very loving and dedicated parents. If you had a difficult childhood it was usually compensated for in excelling in education or awards

Teens rebel but the reasoning for a Gemini is different “why take direction and orders from people below your intelligence?”

Young Adult Gems experience humility but are lost on it’s true lesson blaming everyone but themselves, it will be years before you realize that the lessons you learned while you are young were important. Relationships are steadily gotten and easily forgotten, no one is more important then Education Education Education, You seem to have your life already planned out.

As an Adult Gems are Possessive, hard headed, unrelenting control freaks. But they know their business and it is hard to argue against “Right”. Outspoken and Loyal with great value placed on Righteous endeavor and responsibilities. Social and strive for external approval, Gemini’s just have to be the best at everything, AND noticed for it.

Passion is not well control, but the flame burns bright…. most partners have little to regret in this aspect of your life.

The best Job for you is one where you are in control. You have the ability to invest large amounts of time to education so Law and Teaching is your best fit, if not a business owner.

The best advice to help balance a Gemini’s (Hot/ Cold) personality is to take some course in counseling, work on communication skills and talking out your feelings, practice seeing life in others shoes. I know you will have every excuse why there are more important things to do “time is money” but think of it as educating yourself farther..

Psychic Readings

Leo

Leos are called so because of their lion like personalities. The guardian of the troop, a Leo often takes the defense when approached with a problem.

They also mimic the lions general laziness and they do love their sleep (reserving energy for later) and just like the lion, they love being taken care of by their “subordinates” they are after all KINGS of the jungle

Young Leos do battle for their place in life, often getting into trouble on their way up, but if given the right direction they excel fast. They do great with added reward and responsibility.

Teen Leos are not willing to be placed second, and demand to be acknowledged. Many times hyper and like to stir things up.

Adult Leos, get things done! They are focused and have an extreme sense of duty. They love structure and self-control and unfortunately these aspects about Leo also tend to get in their way when it comes to relationships (expecting the same from their friends and partners)

With loving structure, Leos do well in Military and Management positions, Females are “Super Moms” and Men are “Kings of the Castle” Regardless of which roles you play these Lions are in charge of themselves and their surroundings and their sense of purpose and responsibility is a force to be reckoned with.

Relationships with Leos can be a bit one sided but if security and belonging is what you are looking for Gotta Love those Leos!

Psychic Readings

 

Beyond the Pane XIII (Good bye Melvin, Hola Hidalgo)

My relationship with Melvin had always been rough to say the least; I bounced back and forth from completely irrational worship to self-preservation more than a few times in the 10 years we spent together. I never married him, no matter how many times he had asked and pressured. My explanation was “If you can ever go one full year without cheating than I will marry you” that year never did come.

I never wanted to hurt him; I knew he did enough of that by his behavior. After he left us he lived on the streets for a while, I worried about him especially in the winter and called his cousin several times to make sure he was ok. I knew not to talk with him or try to interfere in this lesson he needed to learn. I still miss my friend, I chose to separate myself completely from him, even as I drive my sons to see their father today I will drop them, not look in his direction or say a word; not from hurt, hatred or shame, but because I love him, and I had to learn that just because I love him doesn’t mean I have to be with him.

The fact of the matter is that because I love him, I should be without him. I needed to let him learn from life and stop trying to shelter him from it. Every time I took him back, every time I forgave him I was doing him a disservice, I was keeping him from learning that for every action there is always an equal reaction. He needed to learn that there are reproductions for bad behavior and just because he hid behind an addiction didn’t mean he was blameless for his actions. I left him because I loved him and because I love myself more. I hadn’t expected to waste so much of my life, though.

This could easily be the end of the story. I can walk away now and have given you a powerful lesson that you have learned from and be a better person either by giving thanks for a nice calm existence free of the torchers I have self-imposed all these many years, or perhaps I have taught you the importance of loving yourself enough to see yourself as a gift that should be treasured, respected and placed upon a pedestal, but that would be too easy. That would be much too cookie cutter, sunshine and rainbows.

No, that is not at all how life works. Once we have learned the lesson, we are tested and then only if we pass those tests do we consider ourselves wise. I had to be tested to prove to myself I am wise, I needed to be tested to see if this person I have created has the ability to trust my own emotions.

I got AIDS tested first! Actually me and my best friend from across the street got tested together and we both were excited that or past didn’t in fact catch up with us. To celebrate we went out dancing. Well, we went out every Saturday that we were now alone, single and ready to live free. I had already had it set in my mind that although love was fun it also had a lot of responsibility. Not having a man to “answer to” was liberating. I liked having the connection to friends again.

I would work all week, go to school and look forward to the weekend. I felt like I could do it all, and no one to stop me. My sons were growing and all was good. The incident with the cell phone and jewelry box was becoming a distant memory much like the pictures I placed in the box. I was finally being me again. I put on make-up not to get a man but to be something those men had no chance at all to get.

My friend and I especially loved, of all places, a small Mexican bar, hidden away from site and traffic, I loved playing pool and there was always a table open. There was always music playing and a man buying my drinks. I didn’t mind the fact that men liked me, I didn’t care that they spoke to me in a language I didn’t understand. In pool a shot was a shot, and an ass slap meant the same in any language. I didn’t need words.

Hidalgo was an older man, still very attractive and the way he looked at me, well made me feel good, he was even a bit disgusted at the other men that said rude things to me and my friends. He acted like he wanted to “protect” me, he would shake his head “no” from across the room when a man wanted to dance, he didn’t approve of, and smiled ear to ear when I would heed his warning. He never got jealous, he just continued to pool with his friend.

I was absolutely confused. Did he want me, did he just want to be friends, or was he trying to play like my father? I only knew I enjoyed our (non- time together) I loved our (un-talks) so much so when one weekend he brought an English speaking friend we spent the whole night talking about things we were not able to before. I learned he was married and had kids back in Mexico, that he once loved his wife but when he had a chance to come here and work they decided that, him being gone for a few years might be better for their marriage then him staying.

He said he liked me very much and has wanted to be with me sense he first met me, but had no way of telling me. I was blown over. What does a person say to this information? I said what needed to be said, I thanked him for his time spent with me, I told him I liked him to and yes I thought several times what we could have if there was less a language barrier. I stay in control of my feelings and I smiled a lot. We were stuck in time. Staring at each other and locked in our worlds unable to cross.

The following night was Sunday and I got a phone call… He spoke Spanish and I didn’t understand, so an Asian man got on the phone. “You like Hidalgo? You meet him at his work? You come here at 11 and he takes you on a date, Ok?” I stuttered for a minutes and then said “Ok?” The date was less a date and more a following to his house and get banged affair, I really didn’t mind, think about it, what were we going to talk about, really? The few words we knew took about 15 to say. But spending time in his bedroom well took much longer.

Problem was there was no time for cuddling; talking about each other’s feelings, in fact the moments after wards always seemed “awkward”. Whether I saw him at the club or not I knew just to stop by his place and I could get some one on one time together. But I never had closeness with him and when he seemed to have less and less time for me well I took the hint. I knew he was done. He wasn’t of course and when I didn’t come by after a few weeks he got upset. He had his friend call and ask all kinds of questions, he came by my house and wanted to know “Why I not come in?” I had no way of telling him that there was no way my sons would understand. I just would rather let our thing be our thing.

The last time I saw Hidalgo I came to just talk, and try to see if there was something there other than a physical attraction. But when he got amorous and I didn’t have a condom, he mentioned something that made me think. “Why you always want that? I want baby. You no want baby? I think you would like be a mommy again. You can have one more baby for me” I laughed and backed out of the house. I was done collecting baby daddies ….” No mass, Hidalgo!”

That was the end, I never saw him at the club and I never went by his place again. It was months later that I got a phone call, this time he knew a little more English but I know the words were not his, even if he had memorized them. He had no way of knowing or understanding the words I said….“ I can’t be what you want me to be, I am not that woman.” It didn’t matter to me if he wanted a child and thought I was the woman he wanted, he was married, and I didn’t even get insulted at the thought of him only wanting a child here to get his green card. I wanted a real Husband, a real life and playing house with Hidalgo was fun but when things started to get serious and “permanent” I was the one that wasn’t ready this time. I knew the difference between love and lust. I was not going to settle for anything less than the real thing.
I finally knew the difference between me loving someone’s interest in me and me actually loving someone… I didn’t love him, and yeah I liked that he wanted me but that was a path I chose to not continue on.

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Beyond the Pane XII (love addiction)

Have you ever stopped smoking, or tried to lose weight and just really wanted to have what you knew was bad for you? I mean all the rational thought in your head told you not to want it, but it didn’t stop you from craving it, even controlling your thoughts, your actions, and your very relationships around you. Well guess what? My addiction was no different, I didn’t crave the man, I didn’t need the sex but I had to have that feeling again, that feeling of being wanted, of being desired. I fully expect that if I had been thinner growing up I know I would have been a stripper. I needed to see in men’s eyes that they wanted me. I mistaken this desire for them loving me. With Melvin being gone I didn’t have that anymore and I was scared to look for it in someone else. Diseases, abusers, and rapists kept me locked in fear of men I didn’t know.

No, it didn’t take long for me to call Melvin back, I was going to have the twins, I already had one son that had no contact with his father. I knew it was just better if I learn to either be a better partner with Melvin or accept his cheating. The only problem with this theory is that there was nothing more I could do to be a better partner, and Knowing his sexual habits (he never wears a condom) I couldn’t in good conscience accept what needed to be done.

He always had a cycle to his cheating; it didn’t take long to figure it out. I tried to let my intuition guide me, when I felt like things were a bit off is when I usually found a small clue to his infidelity. A phone number in a pocket (he would say it was his buddy’s), A woman would call asking for him (she was asking about his brother) and he would be gone all night after arguments.

The things about arguments is there are always one waiting to happen, a person can pick a fight on any subject really. So when Melvin was planning a night out with a lady friend, well, he would pick a good enough fight, say a few things he knew would upset me. Funny how I could spend so long being alone, recreating myself, finding that strong woman that didn’t need anyone and had learned to love myself enough to never listen to what other people thought of me. He knew what to say to make me angry and to flash me back to days I could never forget, “Whore, slut, lazy bitch, fat dirty, good for nothing”. I would either kick him out or he would storm off. Either way he was not technically cheating than, we were broke up and anything he did was in his mind acceptable. I didn’t know at the time that these things were happen. At the start of our relationship I had assumed he was just extremely moody and that all this improprieties were just a result of him not knowing himself how he felt about me.

I was wrong. He knew very well what he felt for me. We were always going to be wonderful friends. The problems we were having in this relationship had nothing to do with the love he felt for me. He did truly love me. There are degrees of LOVE. I lay somewhere in-between “I care for you and do not want you hurt” and “I would die for you” but the reality was that no matter how much he loved me, he was selfish enough to put his love of sex and excitement above me and his family.

I followed him one night, I watched him enter the bar. I stood in the dark alley across the street, it was hot, bugs crawled all around and I was 7 months pregnant. I settled down for my long wait pulling up a wooden crate to sit on. I could hear the loud music blasting, and peoples distant conversations and laughs. Crack struck the pool balls. It seemed a very happy atmosphere too bad with every giggle my temper rose. I sat there all night, hidden from everyone’s sight but seeing everything.

Hours later the bar was closing, I saw people stumbling out laughing, grabbing each other to keep from falling. Women hanging all over ugly men, I wondered why anyone would want to live like that. Out walked Melvin, my heart relaxed as he stood alone smoking a cigarette. Maybe my fears were for not. I wanted to think he was up to no good but maybe all he really needed was some time away. I understood how much stress he must be in. His exact words that night before he stormed away was “I will never see another pay check again”, as he signed his name to the check marked “rent”.

I worked and made good money but all of it went for car and utilities, his only responsibility was the rent. I knew that soon I was going to have to take off work for the pregnancy, I had no problem working, my job was not physically demanding at all but I was pregnant with twins and it was difficult for the other employees to see me, he might have been thinking the same thing. He might have been more worried about the fact that he had no money saved for when I would be un-employed, I actually felt sorry for him. I knew not everyone thought the same as I did. Faith was something I do not often talk about but the feeling of no matter what happens, everything will be fine, is a thought you have to have instilled growing up. Maybe Melvin was never taught to have faith.

All of that sympathy fell to the dirty alley floor and so did my heart when a woman walked out the bar’s door and wrapped her arms around Melvin and he put his arms around her. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t breathe I just watched like seeing a horror movie. I was not hurt, I had no feelings at all as I watched them kiss and walk off together. I had all night to think of what they were doing, it was well into the morning when he did unlock the front door.

I didn’t know what I was going to do. I had spent hours imagining what I do, but I also imagined the police being called and me giving birth in a hospital cuffed. I just stared at him and calmly told him he needed to find his own place. He never even argued, in the past he might have wanted to, but what could he say? Especially after I told him that I knew that he went home with that woman from the bar. He never even asked how I knew. He never came home that next night either so I assume he found his new home.

It is hard to remember all the times he left and came back, how many times I kicked him out and had his things on my porch. There seemed to always be a reason, the more he cheated the less I loved him, slowly but surely he killed our love and I became wiser to him. Less and less of his money went to our bills. After the twins were born He tried to be a good father and partner, we even discussed actually getting married but I was suspicious to just how long he would remain deserving of my trust.

2 months after giving birth I became very ill, I had several test done and after another month of pain and close to death they found that I had to have my gallbladder removed (thank my German heritage for that) I was in the hospital for 3 days and when I returned home with the instructions to rest and not doing any lifting, he seemed angry, like it was my fault I had gotten ill. He had no problems with going to work, I know because my mother watched the babies while he was at work. I didn’t understand why he was so upset. He left at 6pm that evening to go to the store and he didn’t come back until 6 am the next morning. He never got the food he had left to get, so when he had returned I asked for the keys so I could go to the store. I went straight to the store, came back with the things that my oldest son needed. And then left before Melvin even knew I had returned.

The doctor had said for me to rest and no lifting, I had just spent a sleepless night taking care of the twins alone, lifting and all. I checked into the hotel with a smile on my face determined to get worry free, undisturbed rest. I called my mother and told her if my son called worried to just get him and explain to him when she had him alone.

The purpose of my disappearance was to rest without him calling me or trying to tell me lies, I had 24 hours of healing and the added punishment Melvin experience was completely a bonus. He was absolutely traumatized. I on the other hand I had room service, movie channel and a softer then believable bed. I took a long soothing shower, noticing the incisions and looking in the mirror at the stitches. (The full length mirror) I had a good scrutinizing look at myself, here only 3 months after having almost 15 lbs of babies and gaining a proper but unflattering 40 lbs I had lost what womanly shape I thought I had only a year ago prior.

My insecurities about the way I looked had a lot to do with my need to continue my relationship with Melvin, I truly didn’t see myself deserving any better than him, regardless of whether I believed he did or didn’t love me, whether I thought I was capable of raising now 3 sons without a man or if I even wanted to think of having a life worth living or being happy, I chose to stay. I regularly questioned what he did, had him followed, tapped the phone, even met the women he cheated me with, we compared notes and couldn’t even come close to understanding why he felt a need to have other women.

We went to counseling and every excuse he gave was unfounded. I always gave him sex; I never even once said no, I put little to no stress on him. I always involved him and we often talked. So whatever was said meant nothing to me. I even worked and made 2 times the amount he made. I paid my own bills and didn’t ask anything from him. All I ever asked was for him to love me, love me like I was the only one, like I did him. I wanted to be everything to the man that meant everything to me and I was afraid that I saw something in him that just wasn’t there. The counseling was at the Faith and Family services so their whole point was to keep the family together but I knew what needed to be done. The counselor wasn’t going to tell me to save myself, we just needed more counseling. I didn’t need more words of encouragement and thoughts of working together for the good of the family, I needed to get a backbone and stop thinking about what I wanted and start making plans to what I could actually have.

I knew I couldn’t have Melvin’s loyalty, his commitment or his unconditional love. I could however have love of myself and that was not going to happen as long as I was with a man like him. Me actually taking the time, coming to that conclusion was “enlightening”

Remember the 12 step program? “Admitting your disease and your ½ way there to recovery”. I was recovering.
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Beyond the Pane XI (sexual addiction)

It is hard to describe what I was thinking when I saw Melvin again, It had been 5 years. 5 years of “almost” celibacy and of being almost love free. I had my moments or relapse but I in general stayed strong and still able to find release in my fantasies. Tempting myself and desiring but refusing to let myself have. A felt my heart beat, he looked the same, but had he changed? Part of me wanted to walk away, my strong side was at battle with this romantic thought of fate.

We spent time calling each other on the phone, he still lived a distance away and I no longer had transportation so perhaps that was best anyway. He started coming to see me on the weekends, and we revisited our sexual memories. I was a little self-conscious because of the weight I had gained after the divorce but he reassured me that it was never my looks that he loved. I enjoyed having my friend back. I mean no matter how much time that lapse I still felt a connection with him.

We were so much alike, his cheating was just translated from his desire to be wanted. I felt that in my life just in a more emotional level. I never felt a need to step outside a relationship to get my addictive fix; I was self-satisfying when it came to sex anyway. Melvin needed sex, I got that side of him, I understood his addiction. My mistake was thinking that I could have ever been enough for him. I at least had upbringing, the value of loyalty and honesty to always keep me faithful no matter how bad the relationship had gotten. I am afraid to say that I was getting ready to make another grave mistake. I was looking at a relationship knowing that there was something wrong with him, and I still thought I could change him.

He moved in with me and the first few years were awkward, but so much fun, he worked, I worked, we spent every night in each other’s arms and all was wonderful until I found out I was pregnant, and then soon miscarried, I think he was hurt more than me, because he remembered the baby years ago that wasn’t to be. When it happened again a few months later he questioned my ability to carry his child. He worked hard but he never was able to find a job better than minimum wage so we had no insurance. The added stress of knowing that he could never really support me and my son always made him feel like less than a man I know.

He started to become distant. I had heard rumors about places he worked, employees messing around after hours but I never once thought he would have been one of them. After 4 years of what I thought was a pretty good life together I was asked a question that concerned me “Deb, you ever had sex with a woman?”

Now please understand that I had never actually had actual sexual contact with a woman, even when I was with my friends before, it was the act of me being there and watching that was my fantasy, if I got close to hold a hand or kissed a shoulder I quickly restrained myself. I didn’t want to be gay. I was worried that Melvin had heard different, perhaps someone that “knew” me had broken a promise and told him what I had done.

He reassured me that he was just wondering if I had ever wanted to be in a 3some, “some women like it a lot” I asked him if he had ever had two women and he said no, but that had always wanted to. I wondered if he being distant could have been a sign that he was thinking of leaving me, was I becoming boring. We talked several time about the subject and when I had thought about it long enough we started looking for a woman that could fit the task. Every woman he thought of felt wrong, I mean I was worried about diseases, and then I also wanted to feel comfortable with her. I had to trust her. The conversations often turned to arguments and when he had left angry I found myself sitting alone wondering what I would do for “Love”

sorry guys as much as I would love to put this information, it is too graphic, I will see about how I can either word it better or get more comfortable in posting. I believe I will be able to put it the book though.

I never knew what he was going to suggest next, he was a “Freak!” You name it we tried it. No really, we probably did it, drugs, porn, bondage, and thrill sex. I wanted so badly to keep him happy; I couldn’t stand the idea of him leaving me. It was sad really, all the time I had spent teaching myself I didn’t “need” a man disappeared when I thought of saying goodbye to him. Every time he said “I want to Experience this with you” I fell victim to my fears of losing him if I didn’t.

When I found out I was pregnant (with twins) things changed. The fun stopped for him and the night mare started for me, he spent nights away from home, he drank too much and stayed distant from me emotionally. He said it was stress but all I could feel was pain. I was ill, depressed, lost and mentally unstable. My whole world felt like it had stopped. We wanted a child earlier, we both were disappointed when I repeatedly miscarried but it was only when we had stopped trying and embraced the freedom that I had actually gotten pregnant. It was no big surprise when a woman came knocking on my door, asking if Melvin lived here, she had seen the car sitting outside and wondered why he was in her neighborhood, he said he lived on the west side. I was told a story that I didn’t want to believe, but she was more upset then I.

That night he was knocking on the door all night begging to be let in and he slept on the porch amongst bags of his belongings.

I would like to say that was the end of Melvin… do you think it is?
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Beyond the Pane X (when I was a whore)

I would like to say that I enjoyed the time I spent alone, finding myself and being the strong self-reliant woman I needed to be, even exploring my own sexuality without a man as hindrance. I had no problem functioning by myself, I had my son and I was always willing to spend time with friends. I lived in Mt Vernon for a while and I had a few “one night stands” with guys that were interesting but no way what I wanted for more than one encounter.

Really, why not? Men were ever so willing to use me; I had no problem at all using them. I was big I had less problem finding guys being” Large” than I ever had being thin. It was about the attitude. I was me, I didn’t “need” a man to be happy. I really had no “need” for a man at all. In fact the whole thought of love made me very uncomfortable. I wanted to have my way and be left alone, but the guys were getting attached so I decided celibacy was the best option.

I knew I was being wrong to my nature. (I am an extremely loving person) and I knew that was the problem. I could not control this emotion. I loved so completely, so deeply, that I never worry about the “what ifs” what if he mistreats me, what if he leaves me, what if he doesn’t love me back? I was never prepared for getting hurt. So I chose to just turn it off, I mean if I never let them in, I never have to worry about them leaving. Up went the walls.

I started to get a bit of an attitude and when one of my friends reminded me that I was not doing my child any favors refusing to let him have a father figure in his life. Well I started to think I was being selfish. I was not looking for love! I was looking for someone to be trusted and a companion. But while I waited to meet a “good guy” I still had so much fun fucking with the bad guys (maniacal laughter)

Hanging with my friends was very entertaining. I would get all dressed up not to go out but to play cards and sit on my friend’s porch on the south side. The high point of my evening was a “Damn Girl, let me holla at ya” and flirting with a house of men that lived next door. Even though we were more friends than love interests and no way even close to what I was looking for, they got to know me and all had to deal with my man hating. “See this line right here” as I motioned an imaginary line on the ground in front of me “That is my personal space, don’t violate it” we would laugh and relax but they knew I was serious.

My nick name was 3D for my bra size and the porn movie Deborah Does Dallas, relax! Not because I had sex with them but because of our open talks and my ability to never be embarrassed. “Deborah, you give head don’t you?” Yes, been told I am the best but I am not getting on my knees to show you. Get a job; grow about 5 inches and get a haircut and we will talk. I did on an occasion get offered a banana and I absolutely enjoyed seeing the looks on their faces…… I was good! If I gave them a moment of pleasure then why not, that was all they were getting.

Yeah, they knew too much about me. One evening I came over to my friend’s house to play cards and there was a man I had never met before sitting at the table full of smiles and liked to talk. He talked about being an artist (I am an artist)and loving animals (I grew up on a farm), he played and would look at me smiling a little and then let me win, I knew what he was doing during the games, every conversation seemed pointed at me.

I almost growled how dare he be nice? How dare he like me? He joked with me out on the porch that he had wanted to talk with me for about a month, but I was too busy shooting down everyone else that tried to talk to me that he was too scared to even say “Hi”. Now that I thought about it I do think I had seen him before, maybe I was scaring off the good ones. We talked for hours, he seemed to say all the right things, and when he needed to leave he asked if I needed a ride.

Well what do you think happened? If you have learned nothing about me so far, do you think for one second I was going to say no? The guys next door knew I would say yes. If given the right information at the right time, a man coached, would have found me an easy mark. Yes I took him home and gave him everything you could imagine and more. He was a good guy don’t get me wrong. He never wanted to hurt me, he just wanted a chance to meet me and when he paid the guys in the crew next door $100 for an introduction and the secret to my weaknesses, well of course they took advantage. “Mother Fuckers pimped me out!”

I was mad, I was angry, but I was more hurt that my friends judged me; I mean they were right there, didn’t they see it coming, better yet maybe everyone had some stupid side bet on whether Deborah was going to put out, more than likely not but I never liked the way I was blamed for being tricked. I later found out the guy was even married “Son of a Bitch!” NO MORE SEX, I don’t care what the guy says or does I am done! And I lived that promise for a few more years.

I spent less time on the south side and more time with a good friend of mine that just got married, also a bad idea. Ok I came to the conclusion that I attract married men. Everywhere I turned it was married men that saw me as the things their wives were not. I was strong, confident, and HONEST and well… I was different; a few of my friends around this time had asked how they could be like me. I told them the secrets and that was usually enough, told then some sexual trade secrets to and that always did it.

A few times I got so close to a couple of friends that I would spice things up for them, and watch them while being “intimate”, tell them what to do, and why. Oh the men LOVED it and my friends trusted me enough to know that I would not touch their husbands.

People have asked me if I were bi-sexual. That is a hard one, I am attracted to women, I think women are so sexy and through an artist’s eye I see the softness, the curves and movement, I like the feel of their skin and flow of their hair. I have many times realized that I lust women as sexual beings, yes. The key here is would I choose to pick a woman’s loveliness over the rough strong body of a man? “No” I prefer a man’s beauty, BUT I fully enjoy when my lesbian friends are interested in me and I usually flirt just as hard with women as I do men, because it makes them feel good, and I love to make people feel good.

What? Is that wrong? Think about it, when someone tells you that you look good how does that make you feel? The rest of the day, you smile, perhaps even walk a little lighter and it gives you a sense of worth, especially if your spouse doesn’t take the time to appreciate you. I like being told I am beautiful, or even sexy by the men I trust to say it with taste. I am doing a service to tell people what I think, whether that is “nice hair” or “Damn you make me what to get a sex change! Are you sure you’re straight?” I was just beginning to realize who I was. What I wanted and why I did the things I did.

When……………….. I saw him again.

Heheheh I know I am bad! There is more don’t worry there are 11 more years to cover.
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Twin Flame

Yeah yeah I was just like you, looking at what people write about twin flames, wondering if it was just a lot of tree hugging, weed smoking, crap made up by the “love generation” to seduce naive women into thinking it is fate to be together. I was a skeptic from the start.

I have written several blogs on the reality of soul mates, forever loves, and the effect of horoscopes on finding suitable mates, but for me to believe that there is a spirit in human form that I have met and loved numerous times in past lives and I am destined to love many more times to come? A spirit created to mirror my own in emotions and desires to the point we ARE TWINS well….I would have never believed it a few years back.

I had looked only sparingly into twin flame love when doing my research about a year ago and I felt there was no real validity to it, it was just another way of saying soul mate and left it at that.

Until I felt it for myself that is.

I had met people from all over the world and there were many men that I felt that were good matches for me, infatuations, they either were perfect yings of my yang or we had like interests and the attraction was there. Lord knows after the dramas and traumas in my life I definitely knew what I was looking for and what I wanted to stay away from to.

Problem is I never met that person that I felt “He was the one” the person I just knew with every ounce of my being that we belonged together, I mean I loved them all in different ways, I respected them and their differences, I even missed them when they were gone but I never felt true unconditional, belonging, kind of love.

It wasn’t until I met him that I knew, like hitting a brick wall, slam! I got the since knocked into me and I saw stars. I instantly knew what everyone was talking about. It was like we had always loved each other, like the person in my dreams finally was given a face. He was everything, my best friend, my family, my lover, my GOD. You could just tell when we were together that he was just as astonished and overwhelmed with our connection.

I had never seen him before, he didn’t look like anyone I knew or as far as that goes he didn’t act like anyone i have meet in this life, but my soul recognized him and my heart knew “HE IS THE ONE” It didn’t matter to me that we were literally 1/2 way round the world from each other, it didn’t matter that our love made no since at all WE JUST BELONGED TO ONE ANOTHER.
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Now on saying this let me explain that talking about the depth of this kind of love is a lot like telling a South American native in the jungle what snow is. If they have never seen it, touched it even knows what COLD is, how can I describe it to him? Love is the same way; we are told everyday on TV, in books and even tried our luck with finding it, even practiced some with people that just didn’t fit. But when it comes to knowing what twin flame love is, you just have to feel it.

What is the connection of twin flames? At the moment you were created (Adam and Eve) there was one, split into two both of equal individuals but coming from the same spirit. Every person is made with a mate, the pair start as one and are separated into two, you know they are there even if distance separates them; we are forever looking for the lost other half.

I know that many of you think you had met your twin flame and then were disappointed when things either went wrong or they just were not who you thought they were, but do not get confused with mistaking someone with your twin flame and actually choosing to not make changes to allow twin flame to fit in your life.

I used to say if ever I found someone I could truly love I wouldn’t care if we were homeless just to be together. I say that, but is that what I am willing to give up being with my twin flame? There are limits to what we can accept for love. And I know that my Joe is the man I love and always will love, I make the choice to wait, separated, for that love. That is my choice and someone else may say that is unacceptable and move on. And if I had met him a few years ago, I may not have been willing to “wait for love”

I noticed that things instantly got more difficult in my life when I met Joe, seemed as though everything went wrong all at. once. I thought for a moment if I was being warned to stay away from him but in all actuality “Negative Powers” of hate and destruction do not want to see twin flames together. The power created with that much love can tilt the scales giving good the upper hand. I know my psychic abilities were turbo charged the moment I first spoke with my twin flame. Other experience financial success and desire to excel in any facets in life, making it seem that nothing is out of reach from twin flames when they are together.

Evil will try it’s hardest to keep Twin flames apart, creating fear and doubt in even the strongest bond.
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