Entry #26: Closure

Saying a final goodbye can often provide closure.

I never have had the closure I need so much when I lost Annie. She passed away in a foreign country and is buried there along side some of her extended family.

I did however get closure with Ellen. When Ellen passed, I got the word from her girlfriend Lisa. So soon after losing Annie, it was a devastating call. Lisa was frantic to find out what the final arrangements were going to be, but she was rebuffed by Ellen’s family.

In the end we decided that she should probably reach out to the agency Ellen worked for as a last resource. It turned out to be a good decision. Ellen’s director gave up the details under the understanding no one would know where it came from.

Ellen would be buried in the Denver area where her family now lived. Lisa and I agreed that we had to make the trip to say our farewells. We didn’t go to the service, but we hung out in the car at the cemetery and waited for them all to show up. It was a gray and drizzly day and when everyone gathered together, Lisa and I got out of the car and hung back under a tree not far away, but close enough to hear. The family saw us since we were apart from them, and it was obvious we were not welcome, as we were a part of Ellen’s life that they refused to acknowledge.

Even in death, her family refused to acknowledge her life and referred to Ellen by her birth name. Lisa was devastated by that insult. As the family was leaving, we could see the not so furtive looks aimed at us, but we did not shirk from their scrutiny. Once they all left we went over to the plot to say our own farewells.

It grinds on me still that the name on the stone is Ellen’s birth name, completely eliminating anything about her real life. Her family never knew the real Ellen and what a vibrant, beautiful woman she was. More importantly, Lisa has the closure she needs.

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 #24: The Takedown

Somewhere in the back of my mind way back then, I knew that there are intolerant and bigoted people out there. Yet, I have been fortunate to not have to deal with any of them until the one time I did.

Annie and I loved to take long walks along nature trails. Never in a hurry, we held hands and meandered wherever the trails went, enjoying the solitude and quiet that nature can provide. There were times we would spend a half-day just wandering around waiting to see what would be around the next bend in the trail. We never saw anyone we knew on these walks and encountered few others since we usually took these hikes during the week when the trails were less crowded.

One time we enjoyed the forest outside one of our favorite cities and when the hike was over, we headed over to the parking lot where we had left our car. While walking across the parking lot, I heard someone call out my name. I turned around to see one of my friends, Jan, waving at me. She was with some other people and was heading toward us. My shields went up immediately as I had told my friends that I was in a relationship, yet I never introduced Annie to any of my friends in concern for her safety and now I was confronted with that possibility with no place to turn to.

I introduced Annie to Jan and her husband Ron and they introduced the people they were with. I don’t have any recollection of their names at all. I go back a long way with Jan and Ron as we were friends since high school. They seemed overjoyed to meet Annie and I started to feel a little better.

The other guy however, spent a lot of time staring at Annie and started whispering to the woman he was with. She gave him the look that said shut up and elbowed him in the ribs. He didn’t take it well. He wasn’t a big guy, about my size, but the woman he was with was larger than either of us. I could see a problem coming, so I decided it was time for us to leave and as we were saying our goodbyes he started in with the comments about Annie. I thought, well, here we go, the one thing I feared the most. Time to bring out my football moves from years ago. As I turned to walk towards him, Annie wouldn’t let me go, Jan said don’t, stepped in between us, and the woman he was with yelled at him to knock it off.

He then started in on me, asking what kind of man was I to be with Annie? Before I could make any effort at a response, the woman he was with turned and slammed him with a roundhouse like I had never seen. He went down like a ton of bricks and was out for the count. She turned to us, apologized and said don’t worry, this is nothing compared to what he will get when he wakes up. I thanked her because I couldn’t think of anything else to do or say.

Jan and Annie were crying hysterically and Annie gave her a big hug, and we left promising to meet her and Ron that night for drinks.

That was the first time I experienced first hand what I dreaded so much and had heard so many stories about from Annie and Ellen. I told her we had to speed up our plans to move to Canada because I couldn’t live in this country any more. Her safety was the most important thing to me and I just could not deal with her having to live with this the rest of her life.

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 #20: Inevitable

It had to happen sometime. I just didn’t give it a thought and do anything to prevent it.

Annie and I had our own apartments in our own cities and seldom did we share nights in either of them. We spent so much time on the road, that hotels became our home.

In particular, the three cities we visited most often and liked the best, we made a point to stay at the same hotels and even requested the same rooms for our visits. Since we were regulars and the staff at each came to recognize us it was an inside joke that we always took the same rooms even when we did not ask. Upon making the reservation, those are the rooms we were assigned. I suppose there was a notation in our records.

Last year I made a last minute trip and without thinking, made a reservation in one of our favorite hotels. Upon check in I was given the room number of the room we had stayed in so often. I asked for a different room and was informed sorry the rest of the hotel is filled up. I said maybe I should find another hotel and the desk clerk said almost everything in the city is booked for a huge convention so I was stuck.

My anxiety levels went through the roof after getting into the room. The table where we shared so many meals, the sofa where we watched so many movies… And then the bedroom where I watched her sleep so many times, where we made love so many times…

I didn’t sleep at all that night. All I could focus on was what she looked like sleeping, how she felt and how she smelled. Even after all this time, every little thing about her is still crystal clear in everything I do and every place I go. I cannot see any path to move on.

Entry #18: It’s a Black Tie Thing (part2)

The band arrived in San Francisco, retrieved our luggage and instruments and sure enough, Steve had a bus waiting to take us to the hotel. Steve was in the ballroom attending to details and welcomed us and had one of his assistants shuffle us through check in and gave us a time for sound check. Everything seemed to be as discussed and he said our clothes were already in our rooms. He pulled me aside and invited Annie and I to lunch with Jean and himself. He said Annie was already out with Jean and they would meet us at lunchtime.

I needed some time to clean up so I headed up to our room and sure enough, Annie’s stuff was already in the room and hanging up were two garment bags. One had a nice black suit for me and one was obviously for Annie. I took a quick peek inside and was a little worried about her dress. It was a sparkly purple in color, a color she never wore and while I didn’t pull it out of the bag it seemed to be hanging a little weird. There were also matching heels that seemed awful high.

We all met up a bit later and when Annie gave me a hug and kiss she whispered something French in my ear and Steve heard her. When getting ready to sit, Steve pushed himself between Annie and Jean. I immediately became uneasy as I am always so protective of her.

From out of nowhere, Steve and Jean began a conversation with Annie in french. It became a threeway conversation with a lot of laughing, and some blushing from Annie as they looked over at me and would say something else they thought funny. Since I don’t speak french, and understand so little, I seemed to be the butt of their jokes and comments.

Annie was going out again with Jean and said she would meet me in the ballroom shortly before the show and to just go ahead and get dressed when I needed to. As Steve and I left he told me how much he liked Annie and thought she was a perfect match for me. She had reluctantly told him about our plans to get married in a few months and Steve said once we were all settled he wanted us to visit their place in England.

The sound check went fine and all seemed to be in order, so the guys all went to our rooms to get ready and agreed to meet for drinks like we always do before a show. Steve and I were the first two down and we were hanging out in front of the stage with drinks when Annie and Jean walked in. I was facing away and didn’t know they were there until I heard Steve say “Holy Shit.” I quickly turned around and couldn’t believe what I saw.

Annie was walking across the room towards us. She looked like a vision. The gown left little to the imagination. In those heels she towered over Jean and it looked like she was poured into the dress, what little there was of it. From the hips down it went to the floor, but there was little there from the hips up. The dress had a plunging neckline down to her stomach and when the light hit it just right it seemed to be see through. The color on Annie was amazing. I was speechless and finding it hard to even breathe. My mind was spinning over what I was seeing and Steve kept saying holy shit!

The look on my face seemed to be a problem when she got to me as her eyes became huge (like they always did when she was fearful) and she put her arms around me and asked didn’t I approve of the dress? All I could manage was to tell her she is the most beautiful woman I have ever known and my heart can’t stand it anymore. When I put my arms around her I was shocked again to feel her back. There was no dress there at all. It was open all the way down to her butt. The color, the fit, the pure sexual tension that emanated from her astounded me.

During our first break Annie and I danced and I was in real trouble. When I held her close I could feel every inch of her body. It was like the dress wasn’t even there. I whispered into her ear how is the dress even staying on, what is underneath it? She whispered back there is nothing underneath it. I was doomed.

When the show ended I grabbed a couple of bottles of champagne and glasses and said we had to get out of here. It was the longest elevator ride of my life. We got into our room and I poured a glass for us both. She was standing right next to a table with a small bag on it that I didn’t even notice at first. As we stared into each others eyes I told her how much I loved her and I moved to lower the sleeve of the dress off her shoulder. She immediately stopped me and shook her head no. I was confused. As her eyes got big again she dropped the dress herself. Holy shit! There was indeed nothing under that dress. I reached for her and again she pushed my hands away, shook her head and said no. She reached into the little bag and drew out a blindfold, put it on and pressed herself against me and said “now show me how much you love me.”

The next thing I remember is we were in a tangle of arms and legs and early morning light was coming through the window. As I watched her while she was sleeping I thought this is the most beautiful woman in the world and I get to spend the rest of my life with her. I will never forget that night.

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.

Entry #13: The First Time

I remember the first time. After all these years, that moment is burned into my memory forever.

We were in Montreal for a show and it was just another rehearsal like so many others. We played the songs exactly the way we intended them to sound and then sat to listen to the playback.

Annie snuggled up next to me with her head on my shoulder as the music began playing. All of a sudden, when the voice track began, she was singing the lyrics in my ear to the music, soft as a whisper so no one else could hear.

In French! In stunned silence, I just sat there squeezing her hand, hoping the song would never end and I would breathe again before I passed out. As the song went on I could feel her shudder as she sang. When the song ended, I turned to face her, completely confused, only to find her in tears.

Annie said she had not spoken French in years, and she loved me so much she just became overwhelmed in the moment and it seemed to be the only way she could express herself. I had no idea she could speak any other language but English. She said yes, she also spoke Vietnamese and a bit of Tagalog.

After that evening, she spoke to me in French a lot. I mean every day. I do not understand 95% of what she said and she would translate in English immediately, but I had to hear her speak to me in French.

The hours, spent gazing into her eyes as she lovingly whispered to me in French just melted me. I will never hear her voice again, but those are memories I will take with me forever.