Chapters

I wrote this in August and wasn't sure until this morning that I wanted to post it: 

 I read something last week that said what you think may be your true love may only be a chapter in the book of your life – or something like that.

It rang so true for me, especially with Bruce’s death so recent and my myriad emotions so painfully raw.

It’s true, though. Bruce was just a chapter. He was never my true love, and we both knew that, I think. But it was good for a while (until it wasn’t) and, because we ended up being friends, he is my second-longest relationship aside from blood relatives.

My two shortest relationships are actually the most memorable, oddly. Yes, Bruce and I had a lot of memories, but they weren’t the most memorable or impactful.

Baseball Guy? Now that’s another story. It was really just one night in college, but man was it nice. It wasn’t even sex. It was just a lot of kissing on the “dance floor” of Butler Gym during a cocktail party. Best. Kisser. Ever. Yes, we talked sometimes after that and I went to his baseball games and, yada, yada, yada. And we kept in touch for a bit after graduation. But it didn’t go anywhere. That’s OK. He could have been the most perfect guy in the world but I doubt anything could have been better than that one night, which I still think about. Obviously.

We’ll get to the other shortest one later. In fact, I’ll probably save him for last. You’ll see why when we get there.

Bruce and I met at Bradford Perkins. Two other guys are also Perkins-related.

Other Perkins Guy. Oh, Other Perkins Guy. We worked together at Perkins in Warren and just clicked. We got to be good friends; walked home together when our shifts coincided; hung out at work and sometimes after. It probably would have gone further had Bruce not transferred from Bradford to Warren. Actually, it might have gone further at my going away party if Bruce hadn't been standing there. As it was, we may have set a record for the longest hand-holding-without-saying-anything good-bye in history. We kept in touch for quite a while after I left Warren. Phone calls. Cards and letters. (Yes, handwritten, snail-mail letters.) Our birthdays are exactly a week apart (he’s older) so that was easy for us to remember. That’s what makes it so odd that when I Facebook’d his wife and asked her to wish him a happy birthday from me she said he had no idea who I was. Really, lady? Really? I guarantee she didn’t even mention it to him.

Bruce wasn’t the only reason Other Perkins Guy and I didn’t take it to the next level. I’m sure OPG noticed the flirtation between me and Delivery Guy. How could he not? Everyone else in Bradford and Warren did. I knew that wasn’t going anywhere. He was just fun, and fun to flirt with. In all honesty, I’ve never had a better time flirting with anyone since then. And no one has made me feel the way he did when he flirted with me. When he unloaded his truck, he would always come and look for me to check his order to make sure it was correct and all there. But he’d always say, “Ready to check me out?” I would always answer with a wink, “You bet I am.” Goofy and silly, but fun. And, on his last day on that route, he gave me a little kiss. Nice. Sweet. To this day, I wonder what would have happened if I took him up on any of his offers when he told me his hotel room number after his truck mysteriously broke down. Funny how it always happened in Bradford when I was working there, and Warren when I was working there. Subtle, DG. Subtle. 

Those guys all had their own chapters, some longer than others. Some are twistier and less predictable than others. These guys, however, can be lumped into one chapter. They deserve to be mentioned but I don’t feel that they each need a chapter, as surprising as that may seem. They are, in no particular order: Chico, Todd, Casey, Jim G., Jim K., John F., Mark L. and Nick. The others? Sorry. Maybe if my book has an epilog.

I have often joked that The Best Friend is the love of my life. That’s not true. He’s the lust of my life. He’s also the longest relationship I’ve ever had. I could say more but as of this writing (8-29-23) this chapter isn’t even close to being finished.

So, who is the love of my life? Great Smile Guy. We never even kissed (romantically) but I loved him with all my heart. It’s been 13 months and 10 days since he died and I still think about him every day. I’m writing a fictionalized version of our relationship to help me get past his death and to help get my feelings out. 

Last but by no means least is Ray Healy. Our relationship was very brief but very passionate and led to the most painful thing I’ve ever had to deal with. I like to think her name would have been Laura Katherine, but it’s possible he could have been Conor Raymond. We lost Baby Healy on November 18, 1985. Our relationship wasn’t strong enough to overcome the loss.

As I’m writing this I’m wondering if I’ll have any more chapters, like one that ends “ … and they lived happily ever after.”

Serendipity?

 

Serendipity is not exactly the right word, but it's my favorite word so that's why I'm using it.

As I've said a couple of times recently, GSG is my inspiration for many stories, including "Joe" in my Joe & Gina stories, which I continued last month after taking many years off. On the same day I finished this year's NaNoWriMo project GSG's sister wrote a Facebook post about him. She hasn't posted about him since Christmastime last year.

Coincidence is probably a better word, but serendipity makes me think GSG had something to do with it. I want to believe that he was sending me a message through his sister. Usually it's through dreams or things I see on walks. So, he's changing it up a bit. Fine with me.

Winner, Winner

 

Not only did I figure out whodunnit, I found a way to write it and I finished my NaNoWriMo novel. First time I've hit the 50,000-word goal in almost 20 years. 

The thing about finishing this year is that I haven't written about Joe & Gina since, I believe, 2005 or so. GSG was my inspiration for the Joe character, and he pissed me off so badly that I couldn't write him anymore. But, after a series of events, I wasn't pissed at him anymore and thought maybe I should try to write Joe & Gina again as kind of a little memorial to him. (I'm so glad I didn't kill him off in a tragic golfing accident, which I planned to do when he angered and hurt me so badly.)

Getting started wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, but it wasn't all together easy. As I got into it, though, their personalities came back, and it felt as if I was visiting old friends. 

In the dedication for the second book, I thanked GSG and told him he had my undying gratitude. Now, even with his death, I'm still grateful. I couldn't have done it without him.

Inspiration

The nine Muses of Greek mythology were goddesses who ruled over the arts and sciences and offered inspiration in those subjects. That's why we traditionally think of women as muses. But, more and more, people are beginning to realize that a muse isn't necessarily a woman and could be anything from an animal to a favorite part of a park or garden.

My muse happens to be a guy. For a long time I fought the notion that he was my muse. But now I'm doing NaNoWriMo and bringing back a character, based on him, that I invented more than 20 years ago. The words and ideas are flowing like crazy and I'm even ahead of my word count goal.

But it's not just that. I've already written one short story inspired by him and I'm nearly finished with another. A couple more, both inspired by him, are percolating in my brain. 

He helped me when he was alive. Seems as if he's still helping me now. 

As I told him many moons ago, "I told you that you have my undying gratitude. Now you have it in writing."

Dream a Little Dream

 I had a dream about GSG last night. I had lots of dreams about him in the months after he died -- at least once a week -- but haven't had one in quite some time. 

In this dream he and I and some other people were working on some kind of project together at his house. I came across a Latin word or a legal term or something (can't remember) and I said, "It would be helpful if we had a legal dictionary." GSG got up, went to another room and came back with some kind of dictionary, which helped me solve my problem. 

The rest of the dream is kind of fuzzy, but I do remember feeling good in it. 

Missing

I miss you and I can’t seem to fill the emptiness where you once existed – where your laugh could erase all the darkness; where I could do anything I set my mind to because you told me I could; where you held my broken pieces, put them back together and told me everything would be OK. 

I miss you walking into a room and having it light up like a billion new stars entered the sky.

I miss dreaming bigger because you told me I could do it.

All Gone

 I thought it might be traumatic when GSG's name came off the window where his office used to be. 

It is, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I'm more sad than anything else because whenever I drive or walk by it'll be just another reminder that he's not here anymore.

Mourning

 My husband died on July 9.

We hadn't lived together for more than 20 years, but never got around to getting a divorce. But we did say if one of us got into a relationship that we thought was going somewhere we would get the divorce.

I didn't think I'd take it this hard.

I'm a mess but trying to hold it together.

I'm not going to forget all the reasons I had to move out, but I will say he was a great person. 365 days ago he even told me he was sorry GSG passed away. He wanted me to be happy, even if that meant not being with him. But, as it turned out, I always was so now I'm officially a widow. I'm only a year older than my mom was when my dad died and made her a widow. 

Weird Dreams

 It's been 11 months since I posted. I cannot believe it's been that long. No, not that since I posted because I've gone longer than that. Eleven months since GSG passed away. Man, do I miss him! 

I've had a few dozen dreams about him since he died. Every one has been good, with some way better than others. They all bring me comfort. Maybe I'll blog about them someday. Maybe I'll catch up on how things developed between us, too.

Anyway, the GSG dreams are not the ones that are weird that I was planning on posting about today. This one was last night:

I was in Mass at my home church (which is not my regular church) and it was time for the "sign of peace." It lasted forever because people were going up and down and across the aisles to shake hands with everyone. They were smiling fake smiles and having a grand old time. At one point this guy from my transitional job (more on that some other time, too) was running up and down the aisles glad-handing people and grinning the whole time. I thought it would never end. But it eventually did and that's when the priest called this singing group up to the altar. One of my friends from high school was in the band and she was going to sing. I didn't even know she could sing. 

That's when my backup work alarm went off and I woke up. I don't remember turning the regular work alarm off. I must have been more tired than I thought.