Entry #33: Singing Rocks

Annie and I loved the beach, but not in the sun.

If it was a cloudy day and we were near a beach somewhere, we manages to take time from our work to just sit and enjoy the sounds and sights of the ocean. We also enjoyed sitting in the dark at night in those same places where we could just snuggle up together under a blanket and discuss our amazing luck in having found each other.

One night we found ourselves at one of our favorite beaches. We had brought a blanket and some wine and planned on an evening together enjoying the solitude and each other. Unfortunately, a lot of other people seemed to have the same idea.

We gathered up our stuff and decided to walk down the beach in a direction we had never gone before to see if we could find a quieter spot. In a short distance, the beach sort of curved around and we found ourselves in a nice quiet place. There wasn’t a lot of sand there and the beach was covered with millions of small rocks and pebbles.

We found a nice spot and while just sitting there the tide came up and the water started to rush up onto the pebbles. As the water receded with each wave, the sound of the water rushing over the rocks was amazing. We had never heard anything like this before.

The water would wash up in normal sounds and as it receded it was like the rocks were singing. It was mesmerizing to us since this was a totally new experience.

I can’t even begin to count how many times we came back to this same spot. We always checked to see what time the tide came in so we would not miss it.

I would love to go back and hear the rocks singing to me again.

But, I just can’t. It could never be the same again.

Entry #32: Forests

Annie and I loved to walk in the forest.

Neither of us were sun people. The idea of sitting and roasting in the sun for hours on end just did not appeal to either of us.

We preferred the shade and dappled sunlight of the forest. It seemed that wherever our travels took us, we always managed to carve out time to find a local forest for a walk.

In fact we did as much sitting as walking. Once we found a suitable bench or log to sit on, we could relax and sometimes spend a very long time sitting.

Silence is the key to enjoying the forest. The longer we sat quietly, the sooner the animals of the forest would make themselves known to us. We were fortunate to not run into any dangerous animals, but every other type of denizen of the shade would appear, usually one at a time. Either they did not see us, or recognized the fact that we were not a threat and therefore went about their business as we watched in surprise and at time wonder.

Some of our favorite times together began with picking up a blanket and heading out to the forests of the north. Cuddling together under the blanket, the silence of the forest could easily overwhelm. Enjoying each others’ body heat, we could sit and listen to the sounds of nature forever. The rustling of the animals through the brush and leaves on the ground, the sound of the wind breathing through the trees is mesmerizing if you just give yourself up to it.

It’s not the same anymore. When Annie died, this became another piece of life that died with her. I still go to the forests, but it is never the same as it was when we shared it together. The sounds of the forest are still there, but instead of wonder there is just an overwhelming sadness each time I visit.

Entry #29: Montreal

Montreal was one of our favorite cities. I didn’t travel there often before I met Annie and because of that I knew little of the city. That all changed with Annie.

Annie loved Montreal and convinced me to travel there more often so we could meet and she could show me all the great things about the city. It only took a few trips for me to realize how much I had been missing and how this particular city was so well suited to who we are and our dreams together for the future.

As I write this, you have to remember that all of this transpired a long time ago. Annie was never welcome in the U.S. during that time. The fact that she had a successful corporate career was a testament to her drive and the fact that she found herself in a company that refused to allow discrimination within its ranks. Even by today’s standards, many companies pay lip service to non-discrimination but turn an eye away from actual instances of it.

I became an expert at watching for “the look.” The more often I saw someone looking at Annie with disdain and hostility, the more dismayed I became for her safety. The reality of the situation was that since I was accompanying her, those feelings were projected onto myself as well.

We shared our feelings over this many times and we worked hard to find a place where we could live and have a future together in a welcoming environment. In the end, Montreal became the obvious choice. Even though it was only a short plane ride away, it was like traveling to another world where your gender or color of your skin held no sway over living an every day life in peace and happiness. The U.S. held no such hope for us. Even today, while I still live in the U.S., I would prefer to live somewhere else that is more inclusive and welcoming to everyone.

Without Annie however, there is little motivation for me to leave. Without Annie, life has become something like living on a treadmill. The day-to-day is repetitive, all the while my memories of her surround everything I see and do.

Her picture in my phone and her iPod, which frequently finds itself in my pocket, represent the shattered life that remains from the love that we shared for each other.

Entry #28: Hands and Eyes

Annie had the most beautiful eyes and hands of anyone I knew.

There were so many stories that hid in those eyes. It always surprised me to see how quickly her eyes could change. The pain and despair she felt when dealing with an intolerant society always showed in her eyes. She was beaten down so many times, yet always persevered to rise up again even stronger.

But…there was so much joy in those eyes as well. When we were together, making our way in finding out everything we could about each other, her happiness pushed back the pain. Once she accepted and embraced our relationship, she transformed into a new person. Still shy and introverted in public, she never held back from seeking new adventures and explorations with me. It seemed to me that I opened a door that she kept closed since she was thirteen, and now that it was open, there was no holding her back.

And she had amazing hands. Long and slender fingers which were always perfectly manicured with a constantly changing palette of nail polish. Soft hands…the softest hands I ever felt. Yet those hands were like fire. When she touched me, whether it be holding hands, or something more intimate, those hands caused me to lose my mind on so many occasions. The simple act of her human touch sparked many emotions and so many times it was hard to maintain control.

I have never met anyone else who could speak to me in such a personal way with just her eyes and hands. Watching and observing, and interacting with her every day, and week, and almost year that we shared together made for the happiest time of my life.

She didn’t deserve her fate. Annie had so much more to live for. I know how happy I made her, because she told me and showed me over and over again. If only she could have lived to enjoy the freedom the surgery promised.

Entry #27: Beautiful Stranger

There is a common fantasy among the male population. I am not sure if any women have the same fantasy, as I have never asked, but I would suspect it is so for them as well.

It goes like this.

You wait and wait for the day a beautiful stranger will appear in your life and everything you know will change and you live together happily ever after. It could happen, right?

Well, the first half of that happened to me. The night Annie walked up to me was just like thousands of other nights until that moment. I never knew what hit me. I was so mesmerized that I completely missed the start of the conversation. It took a few minutes for me to realize she was actually speaking to me and asking me questions.

Those first few moments changed my life forever. I knew in an instant that this was the moment I had lived my life for. When our eyes locked, we both seemed to recognize at the same time that something scary and at the same time, beautiful was happening to us both. Through everything that transpired from that night on, I could never understand how two people coming from such different places could meet and form an instant bond, while not knowing anything about the other.

I was never sure which of us was more afraid of what was to come. I wasn’t looking to meet anyone and she was afraid of any interactions with men. Her eyes, which were black as coal when we first met, hid her emotions. Yet within minutes I could see subtle changes as the tension in her posture relaxed.

I never tired of watching her change when she was with me. We spent countless hours watching each other in all types of situations. We communicated with each other even in the most intimate moments without speaking a word. I learned exactly what she lacked and desired and how to please her in every way. I waited my whole life for her and she was so much more than I could have ever hoped for.

Annie opened my eyes to people and lifestyles I never experienced before and once I did know, I could not live without them or her. Her joy became mine and her issues became my issues.

When she was ripped from my life, I was left with nothing. All that remains is a black hole where I find my peace and solace in the memories of our life together. I trust few people and put on a happy face when I need to deal with others. But…it is all a lie and a hollow life now.

There will never be another beautiful stranger like Annie in my life. When the fantasy becomes reality, it only happens once in a lifetime.

Entry #25: Questions

I have been writing this blog for a few months now. Unlike my previous blogs, I have not received a lot of comments on the articles, or as many followers. It might be a function of less people following blogs than in the past due to most people using social media more often. Or maybe readers simply don’t find it interesting.

However, I do get more private messages with questions. The questions vary, yet I am surprised how many of them are of a personal nature, requesting intimate details of my relationship with Annie. I do my best to check out the questioners to see if they are serious or just another hater with an agenda.

Most of the time I tell them their questions are out of line and why would you even think I would answer them? Here’s the thing…

If I were in a relationship with another man, no one would ask. If I were in a relationship with a cis woman, no one would even bother me. But Annie was neither of those, so now people think it is appropriate to ask me personal, intimate questions? How rude and disrespectful can people be? Well, in my experience it seems they are pretty rude and disrespectful. What were they hoping to get back? Hoping that I will reveal something that will feed their fantasy or fetish?

There was however one question that I thought I would answer here and it is not what they were hoping to read I am sure. The question is “what did Annie and I like to do the most when we went to bed? So here then is my response.

We liked to fall asleep together. Exciting yes?

I was an average size guy at the time, my weight varied between 180-185 pounds. Annie was almost as tall as me but she only weighed about 125-130. She was a size two, very slender. She was light as a feather.

So, when we went to bed for sleep, we took off our clothes and she would stretch out completely and lay on top of me face to face. Being a bit shorter, she would tuck her head into the crook of my neck. I could feel her complete body and bury my face in her hair. We loved to feel the beat of each other’s hearts and the rise and fall of our breathing against our chests. I loved to run my hands up and down her backside to calm her from the day. Sometimes we would talk softly and other times enjoy the peace we gave each other as we fell asleep.

Not what you were expecting right? Feel free to leave comments or ask respectful questions.

Entry #23: Waking Up

I don’t sleep much since Annie died. Most nights I sleep for four to five hours.

I do manage to spend that time dreaming. My dreams encompass every little detail of my life with Annie. All of our trips, meals, events we attended and even down to the minute details of our intimate time together.

The problem I have is with waking up in the morning. When my eyes pop open and I realize I am awake, it’s always with disappointment. Waking just kills my dreams of Annie and leaves me with another day to get through without her.

I don’t know how to get past this part. It sometimes seems like a never-ending circle or ground hog day every day. I wake up waiting for the light that never comes. Annie was the light and when that was snuffed out, there left little but darkness.

So, every day I go about my routines. I have projects I am working on, but they are fractured. All of them started, yet I am easily distracted by my thoughts of Annie that constantly pop into my mind at any hour of the day or night. At times I wonder if any of them will ever get finished.

At the end of each day I know there will be sleep. That is when my mind is clearest. I can relive every moment of our lives together in vivid color, hear her voice and feel her just as if she was there in bed with me.

If only I could sleep with her longer, perhaps it wouldn’t be so hard to be awake.

Entry #22: The Eyes Have It

Some time ago, during one of my storm walks on the beach I met a young woman. I will call her B.

She is everything Annie was not. Annie was very tall and rail thin. B is on the short side with beautiful curves. Annie had solid dark eyes in which she could hide her emotions until I became able to read them. B has very light colored eyes and in those eyes I see a calmness and serenity I did not see in Annie. Annie was a fashion maven and overachiever, while B seems a throwback to an earlier time. B lives a simple life without a lot of possessions and a freedom that comes with youth that I have long ago lost. I am also old enough to be her father.

During that first meeting, B told me that she is a witch and comes to the beach during storms to absorb the dark energy that gives her power. It made no sense to me but I told her I come to the beach to embrace the darkness of loss. We had a nice chat and went on our ways. I have run into her every so often at the beach and we always say hello and she then moves on with her friends.

I don’t have her phone number, address or know much else about her but with a recent storm hitting the west coast, I reached out to her on social media, told her I was going to the beach and asked if she wanted to join me to enjoy the storm. She agreed and we decided on a spot.

So there we found ourselves, a young woman and an older man sitting in the dark in the warm rain on the beach, shoulders touching and not saying a word. She would draw some sort of witch figures in the sand and I would draw Annies name. The rain would wash them away and we would repeat this over and over again. We stole glances at each other every once in a while and I think she could see my tears but she said nothing.

After a while she grabbed my hand and just held on. I could feel the vibrations of her saying things while she drew in the sand which I took to be something about her witchcraft but it was hard to hear the words over the waves and rain.

We sat like that for quite a while until she stood up. I took that to mean she achieved what she wanted from the storm. We gave each other a hug goodbye and she said, see you at the next storm. I said yes, that would be nice.

I normally prefer to sit in my own personal darkness at these times, but in this instance for some reason, I decided to share my space. I don’t know if I will do it this way again, but it wasn’t a bad experience at all. I appreciate that we shared the space, but what if she asked about my personal demons? I cannot reveal to anyone in person what I reveal here. Anonymity is my line in the sand.

She exudes a beautiful aura that I am sure will capture some young guy. I enjoyed her presence that night on the beach and perhaps it will repeat itself or not. Either way, I draw my strength from being alone now. No one can replace Annie, nor will I allow anyone to get close to me like that again.

She went her way and I mine, back to our respective cars to change into dry clothes as ours were soaked through and through. After changing, I sat for a few minutes thinking she has a beautiful soul that just shines through her eyes. I don’t know anything about witches or witchcraft, but if she was presented to me as a beautiful vampire with those remarkable eyes…now that would grab my attention.

Entry #16: Peace

Mental peace for me has been elusive. For the last ten years, achieving peace has and continues to be hard to get a handle on.

So while seeing those pictures of Annie a week or so ago dredged up all the old demons and opened the door once again to the dark places I keep hidden, I thought that maybe I could make something positive out of the experience.

I took one of the printed photos of her and scanned it into the computer so I now have a digital copy. I didn’t edit it in any way. I wanted to remember her exactly the way she was when I took the picture so long ago. It is one of the few pictures I made of her. She avoided the camera whenever I pointed it in her direction. Some people just have an aversion to having their picture taken and Annie did not appreciate the art form at all.

Now I have a picture of Annie in my phone, and surprise myself how often I go to look at it. I haven’t slept well in those ten years. I always manage to wake up around three or four in the morning dreaming of her. The last few nights I have reached over and picked up the phone to look at her picture. I can remember every detail of her body, how she smelled, the beautiful sound of her voice and laughter. Using the picture has allowed me to go back to sleep for another hour or so.

I still don’t have peace as I dream of her every night. But, what the picture has given me is a bit more peaceful sleep. I can take that. I will never post a photo of her anywhere since she didn’t like her photo to be taken, but I may show it to a few people if they ever ask. I think I am ready to show a few people the image of the woman who chose me. We almost had it all. It was within reach and then snatched away from us.

Entry #15: Disfunction

When Annie described her family life and her journey, I found it to be a heartbreaking story.

She said that she knew who she was by the time she reached ten years old. While her mother supported her in minor ways, the animosity she received from her father devastated her. He railed against all her decisions, and when she was thirteen he threw her out of the house.

Against all odds Annie and Ellen surfed couches at the homes of friends and worked their way through high school. They went to the same college and even though they both worked around their classes, they could only afford one studio room on campus, which they shared until they graduated.

Both were lucky to land full time careers after graduation. Ellen with the government, which meant moving to Denver and Annie with an insurance company, making the move to Seattle. While building their careers they found they travelled frequently to the same cities and saw each other at least twice a month.

When we met, Annie was thirty nine, and Ellen was thirty eight. Neither were able to keep in touch with their families although through friends Annie made sure her mother always knew where she was. I remember many nights we would lie in bed and she would tell me horrible stories of her childhood. I grew to despise her father, even though we would never meet.

Even though we had not yet completed the arrangements to live together and move to Canada, our lives together were as normal as could be expected taking into consideration the discrimination she endured in the country at the time. She would take me to dance clubs in three of our favorite cities where she knew she would be safe from scrutiny and there would not be any issues. These clubs were unlike the bars or music rooms I frequented. Everyone was there to have a good time and no one cared about your personal life. We always went as a couple and were accepted as such.

After Annie passed and the months of anger and despair seemed to ease up a bit, I found that everything had changed for me mentally. It wasn’t enough that I gave up playing music. Traveling to the same cities we always travelled to, I found myself walking down the same streets, looking into the same shop windows, picking out clothes for Annie even though she was gone. One morning I woke up to find a bag on the table with a beautiful sexy dress in it. I obviously bought it the night before. At least I had the receipt so I took it back. I knew I had reached a turning point one night when I went into one of the clubs we had both visited so many times. It was so strange to go in as a male without her on my arm. There were some looks and I got the distinct feeling I wasn’t welcome any more. I was at the bar having a drink when a woman came up next to me, grabbed my ass and said hello. I turned to her, smiled and said sorry I am just leaving. I don’t know what she had in mind, but I was not interested.

I knew right then that I could not continue on like this. All of the adventures and the life we had in those cities were now just memories and every visit became more difficult. When I returned home, I quit my job. I could no longer play the music and I couldn’t continue to mentally tear myself apart revisiting those places. I just did not care about anything.

Over the intervening years the band has continued to reach out to me to play shows, but I just can’t do it. I still love music and will frequently go to some of my old clubs as long as the music is not what I played. Since I gained all the weight, most of the people I know don’t recognize me and I am ok with that. I would rather just pay for a ticket and sit in a dark corner in the back and enjoy the music without having to interact with anyone. I don’t travel much either and when I do, I pick places I haven’t been to before so I don’t have to face those old places.

I can face the fact that I have some sort of mental deficiency in dealing with this past, but the thought of going to a complete stranger to discuss it seems a bridge too far to me. Writing seems to be an adequate outlet for now, but what I miss most is having that human physical contact that comes from a having a true friend you can just hug and touch and discuss your true feelings with.