“The woman so nice that I married her twice.”

I can honestly say that I adore Amy in that, “once in a lifetime” kind of way ( I guess that will be obvious from the video ). In my heart and mind no one can ever compare and never will. I have been sure that she is “the one” ever since I met her in 1984. It seems like just yesterday that we walked holding hands from her mom’s house to go to the movies, we went dutch. And I can clearly recall the second that I fell in love with her, as I watched her wade in Turkey Creek, near Denver, after we had had a picnic.

I will confess that I went a little crazy over the past few years. I guess it was what is commonly called a “midlife crises”. In my confusion, I lavished love on others, the love that was actually hers. I understand now that I was only looking for her, her to be as she was at the beginning of our relationship. When we were young and free, before we were encumbered with making money and buying things.

But even through that, as I was tempted to leave and begin a new life without her, she remained, as always, faithful and eternally mine. Without judgment she patiently waited for me to realize what she knew all along. That I would return her to her rightful place in the very center of my heart of hearts.

(Note: I am truly sorry for the awful heartache and pain that I caused her and others in my confusion, and if it’s any consolation, I myself suffered unimaginable emotional pain through it all. In addition, this is not intended to be an “all is fine now”, wrapped in a neat little package. I realize some of the pain from my actions may, very well last a lifetime.)

She deserves a far better man than I, and I won’t go into all the things that I have put her through, but I will speak of one as an example.

There was a time, before we were even married. In which she would set on the floor, not sleeping, watching me so that I would not die, drown in my own vomit, at the height of an addiction to alcohol.

I believe that I am literally alive because of her great love and my great love for her. My ability to overcome the alcohol is a wonderful example.

I fought binge alcohol abuse for years, there was rehab, will power, self help, cold turkey nothing worked. Until one day Amy had had enough and told me that she was leaving me, this time I believed her. Not knowing how I could live without her, I left where she was and walked around for hours trying to find someone to talk to, someone or something to help me one more time.

I finally fell, face down onto the ground and said to God: “If you will let me keep her I will never drink another drop of alcohol as long as I live” (I know, just one of those promises to God that people say in crises). But this was different, I can still remember how I struggled to even say the words. I then heard a voice (yes, I know, bear with me) the voice said: “Get up, go to her”. So I got up and went into the place, where she was. She looked at me and said: “I am not leaving you” “I love you too much” “How can I live?”. I have not had a drop of alcohol in over 20 years, not even a desire for it, not a drop, not in food, not in mouth wash, not even medicine. Healed by the power of absolute unconditional love.

There is more, much, much more. Many almost unbelievable examples of our unmatched love and devotion for one another.

No matter what you may have thought or how it may have appeared. There is no other for me, not then, not now, not ever. Even if she wasn’t here I would remain alone because even my memories of her would sabotage any relationship I would find. No other love would ever be enough, no one will ever compare.

……..But I insisted, “Come on we can dance, only a little, please?” She then looked up at me, with a look that I have seen a million times from her. “YES!” she exclaimed, we dance”. With that I took her in my arms and we twirled around, dancing and holding one another close.

________________________

This is incredibly personal and, being the romantic that I am, It never fails to choke me up. I made it, some time ago, for just us, but want to post it now.

The video has been rated Triple S (Significant, Sappy, Sentiment)

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Microsoft was supposed to be the evil one. But now you guys are bustn’ down doors in Palo Alto and Commandant Gates is ridding the world of mosquitoes.” WTF!

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What is it with women on the internet? Why can’t I have a friendship with a woman and care about their lives and activities without them leaping to the delusional conclusion that I am in love with them?

One minute we are having flirty fun and the next, they “love me”, I am “their destiny”. It must have been some unseen force that brought us together and I am, suddenly, “what they have always looked for in a man”, their “knight in shining armor”, that is going to leave my home and come to rescue them from their doldrums.

This has happened to me for years and is international in nature. No matter if they are from Canada, Hong Kong, Peru, Brazil or some other nation, it’s always the same. It’s starts out fine and fun, fulfilling some need that I have to befriend women. And then boom, without ever saying a word about romance or sex, for that matter, they begin to believe fate has brought us to this glorious point in our lives. They are in love and believe with all their heart that I am in love with them.

For the record: I’ve have been and will always be “in love” with only one person that I met online. It is quite easy to know if I am “in love” with you. Here are the signs:

1. You will receive 1000s of emails with me saying how much I care and how “our love” is different from all the rest. Along with every deep emotional pleading and cliché that I can think of.

2. I will go and get a tattoo of something that I believe will connect us for life. I will then touch said tattoo and pray to you regularly.

3. I will post embarrassing things, scrobble songs and post photos with secret meanings to let you know that I think about you every second of every day.

4. I will come to your city and to where you live and stand outside hoping you will come out and I will, at the very least, be able to see you in person, just once.

5. I will come to events in your city that I am sure you will be at hoping to “run into” you.

6. I will go to places and stores in your city and touch things that I think that you may have touched.

7. I will keep every thing you ever sent me, even the boxes they came in, inside a chest in my office in clear view so I can see it always. I will open said chest occasionally and handle these items and weep.

I could go on and on and on, but you get the idea. So, be absolutely sure that if these things happen that I am officially “in love” with you. Anything short of these things is only “friendship love” or a passing attraction.

Update: Woman found, she had the right to remain silent

Reading this over it may seem, by my examples, that I am bitter or unforgiving over my experience. But that is absolutely not the case. I would not have missed it for anything. It really made me better in almost every way.

This story struck a still slightly raw nerve with me. We hear of these situations much more often than we should and most of us just, casually manage, to muster a little compassion. But that compassion is generally focused on the missing person.

What about the person closest to the missing loved one? What about the husband, the mother, the boyfriend that is suffering indescribable emotional pain because their loved one has vanished. We as casual observers may quip, he probably kill her or they weren’t getting along so she just left. How callus this is, how inhuman to not consider what the left behind person is feeling.

I am convinced that the circumstance, of a vanishing loved one, is arguably, the most traumatic experience that a human being can go through. More so than a death, because the person left behind has immediate closure and our incredible minds can begin the grieving and thus healing process. More so than divorce, for the similar reasons as the death of a loved one. I site these two examples ( death and divorce) because most all of the psychological literature, which I have read, present these two situations, in this order, as the most traumatic of all human experiences.

I have special empathy in this type of occurrence because it has happened to me. Although it has been many years, and in my case I do now know that my loved one is alive and well, it remains to me the worst experience of my life. I, to this day, remember, as a kind of memorial in my mind, the 10th (the day of her disappearance) and the 15th (the day of her contact) every single month, this being posted on the 10th as evidence, I suppose.

As and example of how truly devastating this can be I will disclose that I even experienced what I know now were minor physical heart attacks as a result of this experience, one on the 10th and another a few days later, of that fateful month.

I was in the public restroom of a hotel, that I own, staring into the mirror asking myself “what happened to her?” Somehow knowing something horrible was happening, a disturbance in the force, if you will (to lighten the mood). When suddenly a sharp pain shot across my shoulder blades and down my left arm and I saw the, infamous, blinding white light. It only lasted a few seconds but, as they always say, seemed much longer. The other was very similar, occurring at my home at the time, in southern Colorado.

Later, as result of the ongoing pain and uncertainty over this situation my weight dropped to a staggering 168 pounds down from a high of 220 (I am six feet three inches tall) . I then began a free weight training regiment to relieve the stress (something I discovered from the movie Secretary, which this very person had given to me) that got me into the best shape of my life and “fixed” my physical heart. But I digress.

I guess the moral of this story would be: the next time you see, on the news, or hear of a missing loved one take a second to consider the whole story, the maybe hidden anguish of those left. And don’t be so quick to dismiss their pain and concern.

Please, Delmi Vasconselo-Monterrosa, if you can and are, tell Sergio you are well, your words would be life to him, I am sure.

Margaret Cho doing a hilarious bit. “You know if’a you have a friend …and you likea you friend so much you don’t know what to do? ….. that’s kinda gay”

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The new animation series “Archer”, on FX Thursdays at 10:00, is truly a LOL funny, also available on Hulu, Archer on Hulu YAY!

Update: I originally wrote this when only the one “mistress” had been revealed. I thought, at the time, that he may have had real feelings for that woman and that had clouded his judgement. I’ve reconsidered my position a bit since.

Don’t be too hard on Tiger, all men stray if only in their minds. And most would stray physically, if given the opportunities which the rich and famous experience.

If I may use the Bible as an example; there was a man, King David, written about there. It was said of him, by God himself, that David is a “man after my own heart”, the only man ever to which this is attributed. Yet what happened to him? In a nutshell, he fell for another mans wife, even having the husband killed to be with her.

The trick is to control these thoughts, keeping them from being manifest, with a pre-built, strong character. But even this is easier said than done. There are countless examples of men of power and fame having character and discipline in other areas but failing in this one. From David and Solomon, to the more current FDR, JFK, Bill Clinton, Kobe Bryant on and on the powerful and famous are exposed.

We are each responsible for our actions but there is always forgiveness with repentance if we fail, only if it’s just forgiving ourselves.

Spiderman’s uncle was correct when he said: “with great power comes great responsibility”.

I was thinking about a situation in my life, it’s a circumstance that I have thought about for many years now. My thoughts and conclusions on the matter change often, seemingly with my mood. The following is something I was pondering the other day:

Every time I act out that is, try again to connect to the situation, I revisit the pain. It is many things, but overwhelmingly, at this point, It is the pain, the trauma, that connects me. It binds me, in a very deep and meaningful way.

I won’t let myself heal, it can’t get better, like a physical wound that I still pick at everyday, until there is a large and obvious scar, that I then reopen and let bleed, over and over and over again.

I don’t want to heal completely. Because I am afraid that if I “fix it” and begin to heal I will lose them, permanently. I fear that my life will lose that excitement, that drama of the heartache, I will miss the pain.

To me what I have, the pain, is better than nothing at all.

I was driving my elderly father to the VA clinic today. He was like a child going to the candy store, so excited. I suppose just because he was “out” and having some human contact. He has become more and more isolated, in these last years. Partly because of a severe hearing loss, that makes it nearly impossible to communicate with him. And partly because of his choice, he refuses invitation after invitation to go here or there, although perhaps this to has to do with the communication. Without communication people grow apart eventually, well, except in very unique situations.

Speaking of communication in relationships, I am reminded of a laborer I had at one of my houses, He was from Mexico and spoke very little english but over the course of months being on the property I discovered that his wife was from China and also spoke little or no english. I never found out how in the world they communicated enough to fall in love and marry. But where was I, oh yes.

As my father and I drove along, he said that he had, had the strangest dream (like father, like son). My deceased mother, my father and I were the players in the dream. In this dream my father was bedridden, I was standing by his bed watching him as my mother was in the distance calling to him. He said that he ask me something but I just turned and walked away without a word. He said he didn’t understand the meaning ….I didn’t tell him what it was.

He then said “I think of your mother often” and began to weep openly, she has been gone 11 years this August. I could only think surely after 11 years I will be better…

I got a DM on twitter about this “blog” that made me get to thinking about what I was writing here. It IS becoming very personal but it is also kind of therapeutic for me, this way. I have always been, what I thought was “weird”, but that was only because I never shared with anyone what was inside or what I was going through and therefore thought I was the only one on earth with these thoughts and feelings.

I don’t mean to sound “down” and I am not trying to elicit sympathy, but who knows maybe someone can empathize and feel better about something in their own experience, that would be good, right?. I suppose that I am just kind of venting and maybe when I am done it will turn back to fluff like so many other unneeded web sites . So yes this blog has become “personal” but let me continue.