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It's anything but a sweet dream when Stephen looks back on his relationship
Stephen's dating horror story in his own words...
What an ugly fate for such a sweet dream. A shame that I had to kiss this one good-bye. Oh, for a while, I'll have to live with its Hell. She was like a breath of fresh air, but I should have seen it coming when she brushed off that first compliment. What part hurts the worst of all? I saw it way too late. Something was eaten deeper into her than I could ever dig long before her eyes stopped flirting with mine. Love truly is blind.
See, we were one of those fairytale couples. Amazing how something so random as a typo can lead us to places we'd never normally be. In the early days of August, she happened onto that dating site, then sent a message my way. It turned into an encounter between one who was there by pure chance, and one who'd given up on love.
Was it fate? Faith? Circumstance? Did it really matter? Seemed almost natural that we were destined for something right. Love's supposed to grow over time, I heard. It puts down roots some of them.
Guess we were both kind of shy. Our profiles said we were just looking for friends, so we stayed at a "penpals" level. She and I traded e-mails, ten a day sometimes, for almost a month. Seemed kind of funny, ten days and thirty-seven e-mails after she sent that first message, when she worried I might think she was stalking me. Stalking is unwelcome attention. Hers was welcome. Between the lines of oh, so many messages, the message seemed almost clear enough. Could it be she was interested too?
Instinct is something I didn't trust. Love hasn't always been kind to me in the past. It took a nudge from a friend to steer me in the right direction. Even today, I'm grateful for that nudge. It was in the dawn of September when we met for the first time. She was just so refreshing and new. There was a simple innocence in her I'd never encountered before: a comfort, a trust, a certain something. We traded magic the very instant our eyes met and we shared that first long embrace. She told me I'd won her when I first called her "Babe".
There were obstacles - kidneys, Court and a jealous ex being the worst. We stuck together. The monster who was her husband filled a few letters. "How long is he going to wait?" was the theme of a few more. "For as long as you're the pot of gold at the end of this rainbow" I replied. She warned me her mother would object, but it turned out that wasn't true. In two dates, and an incredible volume of e-mail, feelings grew fast. Some, maybe too fast….
How can I ever forget the trail of our peeled-off clothes between my couch and the bed? Though her clues and hints were many in our e-mail trade, it wasn't planned. All it was going to be was a late September weekend getaway from her stress. Things just naturally led where they did. Her glow brightened my next many weeks. For the next month-and-a-half, we lived the sweet stuff of romance novels and bed-time stories.
In reflection, there were signs too - signs I should have noticed when she stalked her prey (a certain rival of sorts) through the forums. I felt it when she signed back onto the date site - then claimed I told her she had to. A clear warning should have come when she told me how she was the family "black sheep". I'm so guilty of accepting people at their word, reading silence as acceptance, and seeing "all is right" in a smile.
We were two lonely people who fell in love at first sight. Babe and I lived an emotional high, made big plans, and rushed toward a fairytale goal. It was just within our reach. Somewhere along the way, we must have bypassed that "best friends" stage. My friendliest guess is she got scared. What couldn't she tell me about? Soon, she who urged me on was she who accused me. It was too late for me to put on the brakes without at least one of us getting hurt.
In reading through those many letters we traded, in among all the words of love, life and the tomorrows we were going to share, she mentions feeling depressed. It came just days after that first time we made love. Was it that, the pills she'd stopped taking (something to cope with the boy's behavior issues) or problems at home? Hers did sound very unsettled.
Family Court wanted statements from the kids. She was hurt because her son wanted to go live with his father. It hadn't worked before. Her ex placed too much emphasis on being single and drinking. Responsibility only got in his way. I often wondered how he could have any legal rights at all if he'd really beat that child. Conditions in that poor kid's own home life must have seemed awful desperate if he'd choose an abusive dad over her. The boy really believed she didn't want him.
Stephen's dating horror story in his own words...
What an ugly fate for such a sweet dream. A shame that I had to kiss this one good-bye. Oh, for a while, I'll have to live with its Hell. She was like a breath of fresh air, but I should have seen it coming when she brushed off that first compliment. What part hurts the worst of all? I saw it way too late. Something was eaten deeper into her than I could ever dig long before her eyes stopped flirting with mine. Love truly is blind.
See, we were one of those fairytale couples. Amazing how something so random as a typo can lead us to places we'd never normally be. In the early days of August, she happened onto that dating site, then sent a message my way. It turned into an encounter between one who was there by pure chance, and one who'd given up on love.
Was it fate? Faith? Circumstance? Did it really matter? Seemed almost natural that we were destined for something right. Love's supposed to grow over time, I heard. It puts down roots some of them.
Guess we were both kind of shy. Our profiles said we were just looking for friends, so we stayed at a "penpals" level. She and I traded e-mails, ten a day sometimes, for almost a month. Seemed kind of funny, ten days and thirty-seven e-mails after she sent that first message, when she worried I might think she was stalking me. Stalking is unwelcome attention. Hers was welcome. Between the lines of oh, so many messages, the message seemed almost clear enough. Could it be she was interested too?
Instinct is something I didn't trust. Love hasn't always been kind to me in the past. It took a nudge from a friend to steer me in the right direction. Even today, I'm grateful for that nudge. It was in the dawn of September when we met for the first time. She was just so refreshing and new. There was a simple innocence in her I'd never encountered before: a comfort, a trust, a certain something. We traded magic the very instant our eyes met and we shared that first long embrace. She told me I'd won her when I first called her "Babe".
There were obstacles - kidneys, Court and a jealous ex being the worst. We stuck together. The monster who was her husband filled a few letters. "How long is he going to wait?" was the theme of a few more. "For as long as you're the pot of gold at the end of this rainbow" I replied. She warned me her mother would object, but it turned out that wasn't true. In two dates, and an incredible volume of e-mail, feelings grew fast. Some, maybe too fast….
How can I ever forget the trail of our peeled-off clothes between my couch and the bed? Though her clues and hints were many in our e-mail trade, it wasn't planned. All it was going to be was a late September weekend getaway from her stress. Things just naturally led where they did. Her glow brightened my next many weeks. For the next month-and-a-half, we lived the sweet stuff of romance novels and bed-time stories.
In reflection, there were signs too - signs I should have noticed when she stalked her prey (a certain rival of sorts) through the forums. I felt it when she signed back onto the date site - then claimed I told her she had to. A clear warning should have come when she told me how she was the family "black sheep". I'm so guilty of accepting people at their word, reading silence as acceptance, and seeing "all is right" in a smile.
We were two lonely people who fell in love at first sight. Babe and I lived an emotional high, made big plans, and rushed toward a fairytale goal. It was just within our reach. Somewhere along the way, we must have bypassed that "best friends" stage. My friendliest guess is she got scared. What couldn't she tell me about? Soon, she who urged me on was she who accused me. It was too late for me to put on the brakes without at least one of us getting hurt.
In reading through those many letters we traded, in among all the words of love, life and the tomorrows we were going to share, she mentions feeling depressed. It came just days after that first time we made love. Was it that, the pills she'd stopped taking (something to cope with the boy's behavior issues) or problems at home? Hers did sound very unsettled.
Family Court wanted statements from the kids. She was hurt because her son wanted to go live with his father. It hadn't worked before. Her ex placed too much emphasis on being single and drinking. Responsibility only got in his way. I often wondered how he could have any legal rights at all if he'd really beat that child. Conditions in that poor kid's own home life must have seemed awful desperate if he'd choose an abusive dad over her. The boy really believed she didn't want him.
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