This is the real recollection of

This is the real recollection of what happened. Some of it will shock you. Some of it will disgust you. Some of it will make you angry and some of it will make you smile. None of this is made up. This is an exposure of the truth, entirely, from my perspective. A confession to help me keep going and continue to heal.

First Contact
This portion of the story is the only part which is unclear. I’m not sure when and where, how or why the first intial contact took place on the forum, but it was innocent enough. I was, however, enthralled with her beauty. She was ideal; a dream woman. Beautiful flowing brown hair. Dark, passionate eyes. Silky smooth skin. I remember she told me she was married to an ENTP. Now, in my mind, and I don’t know why, since there are millions of women out there, I was disappointed that she was not available to me. I replied “Lucky you” and followed up with “and lucky him.” Our conversations at this point were superficial and sporadic. Perhaps this is why I am so hazy on all the details.

One day in late February 2013, I posted a message on her wall. I don’t know what it was that reminded me of her. Something pulled at me inside to just drop a line. Everyone loves to feel remembered, right? Then, something unexpected happened; she replied back in a way so meaningful, so powerful, that I couldn’t ignore it any more. It wasn’t a response you give someone when you’re just being nice for the sake of being nice. This was a message crafted especially for me. It was deeper than surface level. Her response prompted an emotional response.

It Begins February 28, 2013

The way she wrote to me made me feel so special. Something odd about it, was that she claimed that we had met before in real life. She couldn’t put a finger on when, but she was adamant about the feeling. Strangely, I felt it too, but far more in a way which I would consider foreshadowing now. I left her my phone number with the contigency “I don’t know if you would ever need it, but should you… You can call” She replied with her phone number too; same criteria. Then not long after on that very same day she called.

“Who ARE you?” she asked. “I’m Nick” I replied with a smile. If I had a recording of that conversation, I would love to listen to it. We took each other on a ROLLER COASTER over the course of the next couple hours. My work took a backseat. She told me how my timing for my first message had come at a time of deep depression; around the time of a suicide attempt. My heart sunk upon hearing this. I don’t know why, but the thought of losing her from my world, already at this point, seemed devastating. I felt honored that I was chosen, by what felt like a higher power, to help her heal and find love. She told me it had never been there. Regarding the suicides, I remember saying “you are your husbands world. If you took yourself out, you’d take away more than just your own world.” I projected my own self into her husband when I said that; a realization that I already fantasized of her being my wife.

After speaking, we took a break from the phone. I went straight back to the computer, and began writing. These feelings awakened inside of me were unreal! I couldn’t breathe calmly. Butterflies, more like sparrows, were in my stomach. This woman was a kindred spirit. I knew it right away.

What Happened Next

What happened next could only be described that time felt as though we were moving in time-lapse; our own plane of reality is where we met every day, every moment. It felt like a lifetime passed between us in a matter of days. I knew I loved her after only a moment with her in reality. The whole experience was surreal. It didn’t stop for weeks. Literally, the coming weeks ahead I was stuck in this state where my breath was never calm. I would wake up every morning and she was on my mind. I would go to bed and she was still on my mind.

When we got on Skype for the first time, I think we probably just sat there and smiled at each other for 90% of the time. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

During this period, we discovered things about each other. Her religion was a fear of hers, she felt would drive us apart. I, of course, didn’t see it that way. We were raised differently; she a Jehovah’s Witness and me a Protestant. It was very sensitive for her to discuss, and she never really opened up to me about it, since there were time when we tried to discuss it, but it only ended in frustration. We both agreed this conversation was not meant for the phone. I actually felt as though I was placed in her life to demonstrate a new kind of love, that she may not have experienced before. I felt as though If I could only be a witness of unconditional love to her, and nobody else, my life would have achieved something monumental. She certainly would be a tough nut at times. The challenge was certainly formidable.

One thing where we found absolute harmony was in music. She shared something with me early in this period: Ben Howard – Keep Your Head Up. How appropriate that even still I listen to this song and am moved to tears. The comfort it provided me then is a memoir of happiness wrapped in the pain of her memory now.

Something about this situation felt like a brand new beginning. We could project ourselves over a thousand miles to one another and communicate almost telepathically. We would write each other and answer questions that the other had simultaneously. We would wake up at weird hours in the night, only to find that we both had awakened, and both felt called to one another at those times. More than one strange occurrence like this. All the while, the fact that she was married ate at me. How could I be so called towards someone that was out of bounds? I could never ask her to leave. I would never even suggest it. It had to be her choice; her own realization.

I meditated on this and explored my insides and read all sorts of things and finally concluded that I was her angel of mercy. An angel of love. I explained this to her, and because of her marriage, decided it might be best that I am “for emergency use only.” Break the glass, type of situation. But she couldn’t stand for that, because to her, Life beginning to end is an emergency. It’s a one shot deal, and it would be a fatal mistake to ignore someone with this powerful of a presence. She explained she had no love in her marriage. She had done it because society made it seem like that was thing to do. I empathized with her, twisted as the rationalization may be. I believed her and it made me believe in myself again.

She was certain we were soulmates AND Kindred Spirits, and I was inclined to believe it too. The only way our world could exist was if we saved it together. If either one of us cracked or gave up, even for a moment, it could all come crashing down. An immense amount of pressure, for sure. This, I felt, had the potential to be the most rewarding relationship in my entire life. It was something where I KNEW that if it went the distance, all of myself would open up and grow. I had no fears being myself with her. I was ready to “let the demons out” and fight them off, because I chose her instead of them. I chose love instead of fear.

Excerpt from a message she sent me:

” I don’t ever want this to end with you. Yet I feel I may die from pure emotion exhaustion.

Agh I’m lightheaded and it’s only 6:51 in the morning.

Look at what you do to me… Please make it stop. But don’t.”

A problem she described in her marriage which was particularly impacting to me was that her husband had gotten “snipped” and would never have children with her. She wanted children. I want children. We discussed this, and it was painful for her because beyond the inability to have children with him, he would mock her amongst his friends over this fact. She was clearly hurt by this.

Over the course of this time, we exchanged hundreds of text messages, video chatted intimately, exchanged photos. Everything you would expect from a relationship with distance between the involved peoples. I grew more fond of her daily. I was unable to stop. Everyone else I ever had interest in became an afterthought. She was the only person who fully understood and appreciated the situation. She wanted it just as much as I did.

This was the real deal. The call was just entirely too strong to ignore. I couldn’t live in a world without her; at least, I didn’t want to anymore. It was time to see her.

But She Was Married…

Do the means justify the ends? Was our relationship a means to an end? For her, she would not leave her husband without justifiable cause. She wanted to have that reason. She wanted me to participate in that reason, but also be an ends as well. It was complicated, to say the least. According to her, there would not be justifiable cause to leave without an act of infidelity or abuse. She described it as I was the love, and her husband was the other man. Although in reality, it was the other way around. It weighed heavily on me. She wanted me to come to her, and I wanted to come as well, but I didn’t want to be just a tool to accomplish something larger than me. I wanted to be large enough without the act. I loved her, and to see her caught in limbo, in a shell of a life without love or reason was terrible to imagine. I was torn. We discussed when I would come out to meet in person. I knew that once I went there, it would be a milestone that would bring everything into a new phase. I was almost angry when it came to buying the ticket, and once it was done, I felt a weight off of me, but also a weight of forced timing. This was a month away, and I knew every day would be agonizing, an internal battle between Id and SuperEgo.

Fast Forward: We Meet At Last. May 2013

I arrived in a foreign land. For the next two and half days, there was only one purpose for me being there; to be with her. I arrived and caught the hotel shuttle to where I was staying. When I got there, she told me she would be over soon. I went and checked out the room and it was horrible. It was the hotel she recommended, and the only room left was a handicap room. I went to the front desk and ended up switching hotels to the one down the street, because the room was so bad. I waited for her to arrive.

When she got there, I was standing behind the courtesy van waiting with my bags. She emerged from around the van, beaming smile, and made a bee-line right for me. She wrapped her arms around me in an embrace i’ll never forget, and then we had our first kiss. I loved the way she felt in my arms. After moments that seemed like an hour of standing, smiling, tears welling up, we moved to her car and made our way down the street to the new hotel.

The hours ahead were exciting and fun. She did not stay with me that night, but promised to come back the next day.

I awoke early the next day and she made her way there around 11AM. She brought me all kinds of treats and snacks for my visit there. The time out here was a blur of emotions. We spent time together that day in the room, listening to music, talking, making love. We went out to dinner that night. Some memories that I’ll never forget; 1) the skill crane. I told her how I am really good at skill games. I asked if I could have a dollar to try the machine. I ended up catching two stuffed animals with one drop; a feat that I’ve never seen happen before. I felt like a million bucks. I was the luckiest guy ever. 2) Rib Crib. Now She is a vegetarian/vegan, so we had no real business going to a rib shack, but for some reason I was determined to go there. We went and they had all you can eat ribs for 12.99 and it came with unlimited sides. They let her eat the sides and me eat the ribs at no cost. I felt so connected with her at this time, and we got to see each other’s talents a bit while we were here. She got to experience my ability to persuade strangers to do my bidding. I got to see how nurturing and caring she really was.

The next day we went watching animals, specifically baby geese and turtles, at a park. We visited the tropical flower gardens in Oklahoma City on the final afternoon I was there. It really felt like we had known each other forever. Much of our communication was unspoken. I knew there would be no going back.

The departure at the airport was one of the worst memories I have. She stayed with me as I waited in the security line. I never wanted to say goodbye. I cried when she was out of my sight.

The “Rash”

This bit of the story is a sidenote, which occurred at this time, but did not hold any significance until after our first encounter. I had been traveling for work the week prior, and a very small rash popped up on my waistline (abound the circumferance of a sharpee marker). I assumed it came about from the hottub I was in at a hotel (I don’t get in them anymore). Coincidentally, I also had seen this same rash occur back in September of the previous year. I had gone to a dermatologist who looked at it before, and deemed it was folliculitis. I began to apply the ointment as I had back in September on it, and covered it with a bandaid to keep me from scratching at it. At the hotel I showed her, and told her the backstory on it, and she was not put off by it, although I wanted to make sure it was covered up in case it was contageous.

When I went back the following week, I went to a different dermatologist than before, and made sure they ran a culture on it. I was devastated when she came back and told me it was HSV-2, not folliculitis. My ex had given exposed me, unknowingly, to the Herpes virus. I knew now that I had risked exposing the one I love to something undesirable and which couldn’t be gotten rid of.

In expected fashion, I told her what I found out, and her immediate response was anger, as expected. We both couldn’t help but think that the timing of such a thing was all too much of a sign that she was now going to have to tell her husband that she had no longer been faithful to him. She asked for my reassurance that when she told him, I would be ready to take her into my care. I was ready. I felt intense remorse and sorrow for her, as I knew she must have felt like cornered in, and only the painful truth would be the only way out of it, even though she had no safety net beyond my word. It was as though she had no time to prepare anymore. It was time to step up to the plate. Even worse, I was still on the road for work over these two weeks when she was going to do so, so I would not be able to provide full support, and would not be able to make good on my promise that I would be there to catch her if she was kicked out.

Dropping the bomb

A week or so later, while sitting on an airplane for a cross country flight, I received the text “I’m about to have the conversation with him. I need you to trust me that things will be ok.” Time to shut my phone off. My stomach was in knots. When I landed, I turned my phone on to see that “(she) has decided she was going to stay and clean up her own mess, and that she would not be allowed to have any contact with me, per his request. I’m sorry” My whole body shut down when I got to the hotel. I sobbed and sobbed that night, and thought about ending my own life. I thought there was no hope left for me.

Then, 24 hours later, she sent a message “I told him I love you and I can’t cut him(me) out. She was allowed to sleep on the couch, but would have to vacate soon to go to her mother’s.” A flicker of hope still kept me going. I didn’t know what was next, but I knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

Several weeks later, she told me that she was going to “go on a journey, a roadtrip, and at the end of it she would be with me.” This would be the equivalent of telling a child he is about to receive the most desirable toy, the one he has been asking for all year, but not telling him when exactly that he’ll get it, just that it’s going to happen realtively soon.

She Arrives, June 2013

It was late, really late that she finally arrived. As tired and hungry and grumpy as we both were, that all somehow went away when she got there. We were finally together, and there was no cap on how long that time together was going to be. Banksy, her dog, was with her. He and I quickly became good buddies.

The next three and a half weeks, she was with me. I worked in the day, she stayed at home, having plenty of alone time to meditate, read, rest, and find peace. Every day, at least twice a day, sometimes three times, we made love. It was always good. She proclaimed that I was the best lover she had ever had. It was only appropriate, as our connection and intuitive response our bodies had on one another was so powerful and memorable. I got into the routine that I would take out the dog in the morning, while she would catch some final z’s. Then she would get up with me and have coffee and breakfast with me before i was off to work. The days I worked from home were wonderful. I would work all day, but could take 15 minute “love breaks” where I could steal a kiss, maybe more. I was totally in love with having this life. The stressors of money and responsibilities didn’t seem to matter so much, because I had this beautiful woman to make it home to and make it all worth it.

One thing we battled with was the kitchen. She and I both enjoy cooking, but have very different styles. Both controlling and stubborn in our own ways, it was best when we left the other to our own devices and just enjoyed the final product together. A little trust goes a long way.

Something I picked back up while she was there was smoking cigarettes. While not thrilled with the habit, I enjoyed the quality time we spent together smoking cigarettes on the balcony and just being together.

Discussions of Demons

As I mentioned early on in this memoir, there was a foreshadowing that felt as though she was surrounded with an all to familiar aura. I wasn’t positive, but I equate these times of spiritual familiarities to one of two things, demons and her own spirit. I was afraid of the former. I felt as though I had been with one before who was followed around by this same demon. This demon could be named, it was so familiar, though I am not learned enough in the realm of supernatural spirits and demons to be able to tell you that name. I knew she would be fighting this one, and I would not be able to help. All I could offer was unconditional love and undying belief in her. If she was knocked flat, I would remain under her to continue to lift her spirit back up; to get back up and keep fighting.

I don’t want to say that the demon won the fight with her, but for now I feel as though she was defeated. I felt like she finally just gave up and let the demon take control.

She Left Me To Pave the Way to Make This Final

There were still pending actions, regarding finalizing the divorce, selling possessions, etc. When she went back, a task of hers was to get the papers signed and finalized. I knew she would have to face her past, and address her Superego. While she was away these three weeks, I still had her dog. I took great care of him, and loved having him there. He was a sign that she would return, and that she trusted me with her most valuable belonging.

She left me a note which read “I’ll always choose you…”

However, in these three weeks, she remained distant. She barely included me in her life, as she was saying goodbyes (so I thought) and preparing herself for a new life. We struggled to pull together the finances to get her on a flight back. I used all of my credit card points, nearly 400 dollars worth, to get the ticket purchased. In this time, I also had to tell my parents. I’ve never had a live-in relationship. I’d only introduced my parents to two girls ever in my past, and only one of them was very serious. That was 8 years prior. I told them that it was my life, and they needed to prepare to accept her into the family, as it was my intention to make her part of mine.

Negative Energy, July 2013

My intuition is rarely, if ever, off. The day she was set to return was not good to say the least. She missed her flight. She would have to wait another day. I knew that if I was getting on a plane to start a new life, I would not be missing that flight. I would be first in line at the gate, even if I was zone 5. She told me she was having second thoughts about returning. She also explained on her way to the airport that she wanted to get her own place when she was out there. Why was all of this decision making made without me? I wondered. I begged her to get on the plane, and that we could cross those bridges when she was here. The important part was to just get here.

When she arrived, I already knew something was off. The joy she once had in her eyes wasn’t there. The excitement she had practically glowed with every time she saw me was no longer there. She was tired, distant, in pain again. It was torturous to be around someone whom was putting off such a vibe of negativity, that I started to feel like I was breaking inside. The openness was gone. She had walls coated in razorwire as high into the sky as my mind could see.

She no longer woke up with me. She no longer had any interest to try things with me, or go visit my friends with me. She just sat and texted people. She would get paranoid and angry every time I looked to see what she was doing on her phone.

We were straight up fighting. Everything I did seemed to irritate her. She didn’t want to lay with me. She didn’t want to talk to me.

One evening it got so bad that we both sort of started yelling. I had taken enough abuse that week. I needed to know what the hell was going on in her mind. She took out her phone and said she was going to call someone to get her. I took her phone away. She pressed and said she would go to a neighbor and get the police. I collapsed in a corner, sobbing. Eventually, she broke her horrible anger and actually apologized for “being a super b**** monster”. “I forgive you” I said, as I always do.

The next day felt like the road to recovery. Things were better, she seemed like she was going to try again. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I felt that same sense of hope that I felt the night she told her husband that she couldn’t cut me out because she loves me.

The following day while I was at work, she called me hysterically. She claimed was going back home, due to some crazy shenanigans her mother supposedly was up to, that involved putting her sister in harm’s way. I asked that she stay calm, and to please wait for me before she went and did something irrational. I arrived home that evening from work and found all of her things packed up and she was cleaning my place. I was horrified.

The following morning, her sister and a stranger, supposedly a friend of the sister, showed up at my house. Her sister came inside. The friend did not. Had I known at that time who he was, they never would have made it out of the state. When she was leaving, she didn’t say goodbye, and would not allow me to say it either. She didn’t want me to come outside, and asked that I remain inside. I stood on the back of my couch to look out of the window to watch her drive off with her sister, the dog, and the stranger.

I was alone now. One week after she arrived. All the struggles to get her there were for nothing.

I still held on to some form of hope.

She dropped another bomb on me when she went back. She told me that while she was back for the three weeks, another man, a neighbor, had entered her life that she established a connection with. I was, of course, hurt by the breach of trust. In the weeks she was meant to be cleaning out the closet of Oklahoma, she was forming new bonds, and rekindling old flames. She said she no longer believed in soul mates; something very integral to the fabric of our very existance together. This was something we had believed in all along. Something I had believed in, and still did. Something I still do…

for the first time in our relationship, I felt resentment towards her. I felt deceived.

We talked a few times, but nothing like before. She told me that she needed time, and requested that she would call me in 30 days.

with no more than the occasional text after a few weeks, I grew restless and scared. I knew something was wrong with this whole thing. It all stunk. We spoke on the phone before the 30 days was up, as I had questions that I felt deserved answers.

The Kitten

When we were talking on the phone, she told me she got a kitten, which she was bottle feeding. She didn’t understand why that would be upsetting to me. She was running away from the responsibilty of our relationship and other, even more urgent responsibilities, and picked up new responsibilities to care for a kitten.

Several days later, she texted me that the kitten died. I expressed my sorrow that the kitten died; and I really was sad for her. I tried to call her to comfort her but she ignored my calls. 4 or 5 hours later, she texted me that she had called her ex husband, and they talked for awhile and it made her feel better. This put me over the edge. She brought me in, inferring that she needed my comfort, but went to another, someone from her past for comfort instead. I tried to call her like 40 times that night. She ignored them all.

The next day we spoke. She admitted she had become friends again with her ex husband. I asked if he would ever consider being friends with me, to which she replied “no, he hates you”. I didn’t understand why you would want to be friends with someone who hated the person who loved you. It was add odds with positivity and growth. I requested that we all three talk. If nothing else, we should clear the air and humanize everyone involved. At this point, everyone had been dealing with a form of hurt and separation anxiety.

Later that day she changed her phone number.

Cleaning Out the Memories – Labor Day 2013

That weekend, I began getting rid of the things in my place that still reminded me of her. I knew I needed to find myself again. She had an account on my computer. I logged into it to clear it out. Her email was up and I glanced over the first page of inbox. I noticed a chain about the craiglist ad pertaining to the apartment she was looking at. I opened it up. This was a conversation between her and another man, of which they called each other baby, and said I love you to close the messages.

I searched for their correspondence, and found they had been in touch as far back as May; the week after I visited her. There were pictures of them kissing. I was crushed. He was the stranger who picked her up at my house.

In a fury, I got his name. I paid for a background check on all of these people. Her, the ex husband, the stranger. The stranger came back, and I found he was still on probation for Domestic Battery, Strangulation, and Kidnapping from the previous year. This man is not a good man.

I wish I had stopped looking for more clues.

I found his twitter. There were pictures of a new kitten he just got, coincidentally on the same day that She got a new kitten. There were pictures of him chilling on the couch with Banksy, the dog I spent time caring for. It became clear they didn’t just still see each other. They were actively in a relationship and more than likely were living together.

Everything I believed in was based on a stack of deceipt and half truths.

I wrote my final goodbye to her. The trust has been shattered. I don’t really expect her to ever apologize for what she did. I would forgive her if she ever did.

I still want to believe in her. I hope someday she overcomes her demons and chooses the light instead of the dark.

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