As the weeks slowly passed us by we had one of the coldest winters. Several things happened between myself and my man, things I’m not open to discuss. One saw us go our separate ways for a few weeks. And thanks to a very good friend who saw the love still there (and I’d driven her crazy asking after Jess daily LOL) that even we hadn’t seen ourselves, we tentatively began our chatting again. In fact, carried on exactly where we left off, funnily enough. Jess opened up completely to me. This man put his whole life out there before my eyes… stood naked. I felt touched. It couldn’t have been easy, but he felt confident enough in us to go that extra step. I loved him even more that night. Well, I’ve never stopped loving him. I just can’t, no more than I can stop my next beat of my heart. Each night I lay on my futon, my back breaking. (You ever lay any time on one of those things? Jeez! Swear it’s a medieval torture device, rack) Little Briar curled in my legs, messages of love flying back and forth.

Because of the time differences I was awake all night, every night. Also in this time I went on a serious diet, working out twelve o’clock each night for an hour… only time myself and Jess didn’t talk. My then husband going up to bed at 11… must backtrack there… see, when he got back from his trip, having Jess to lean on gave me courage to refuse to go sleep up in the bed of nightmares… away from my abuser. Even then I would wake some nights to find him lurking in the living room door, just there staring at me which freaked the hell out of me. I took to putting a large heavy chair in front of the door. Jess worried over me. Must have been awful watching someone you care for go through this, unable to do anything.

Weeks went on and Jess had often said about me visiting him. I’d have given anything to but I had no passport. And imagine ME! I mean me flying on a plane!!!… agoraphobic, barely able to get down my road, never mind tackling airports, planes peopling oh myyyyy. But it was an amazing dream (was it possible? Could I, dare I, even dream this for me, us). The more we talked about it the more excited we both got. I managed one day to get to the post office to pick up a passport application form. That even made my heart race LOL. We were both chatting like kids full of what could be. Okay we’re all adults here, right? To say the sexual tension grew was to put it boringly mild. We were sexting like teens. I mean we are very mature sexters, LOL, but, hey, who said it was just for kids? We loved each other. It’s normal, right? My excuse.

Now around this time Jess started working away… all weekend I wouldn’t hear from him. These weekends drove me crazy. They seemed to last forever. Sundays especially. One Sunday I had some crushing news: my beautiful bubble of Jess and Treez came crushing down. I had no way to contact Jess till Monday, which I did, leaving him frantic messages. It was Tuesday before I heard from him. I can’t go into what happened; it’s Jess’s story, not mine… but on that Tuesday we texted back and forth through our Facebook Messenger… text flying between us. We rarely phoned, but this was one of those occasions. I sobbed. A quiet voice said ‘but I love you‘. I’d never heard these words spoken, only in text. A big lump caught my throat and I croakally replied ‘I love you too‘ despite my world crumbling around me. I also walked home from my icy walk, the only way we could talk by the way (I had to leave the house as my resident stalker wouldn’t leave me for a second except to walk Briar).

With those beautiful words in my ears I walked home to my living hell.

To be continued …….

Jesse’s Perspective

Winter. Cold… foreboding. Night after night was spent talking with one another on the phone. Toward the end of November we stopped communicating due to a petty, jealous lady in our group who carried out an agenda against Tess out of spite. Her conniving bitchiness caused turmoil within our group and the band of friends I thought I had bought into her scheming and stabbed me in the back. Outraged… angry… I left the group and cutoff all communication with everyone in it, Tess included. 

The time away from her was painful… heartbreaking. I had grown to look forward to our conversations… grew to love just being with her on the phone. I had not yet solidified my feelings for her and did not quite comprehend the depth of hers for me, but I knew that I felt infinitely better with her in my world than without her. Eventually a mutual friend informed me that Tess really wanted to get in contact with me. I sent her a text and that started our communicating as if we had never stopped. There was sun in my sky again. The birds sang. Everything was daisies and roses. I found I trusted this woman, cynic that I am, and it felt natural to tell her all about my life, warts and all. I divulged things to her that I had not told another living soul, not even Tracy. It just felt comfortable… right.

Every night we talked. She would lie curled up on a futon in her living room with her dogs while we chatted. She would wedge a chair into the door so that her quasi-husband could not get in. I worried about her constantly. She opened up more and more to me about her life and I filled in details about my own. We were growing closer with each passing day. Everything felt so right.  

We began talking about actually meeting. It seemed like such a pipe dream to me. Here was a woman suffering from agoraphobia, hardly able to leave her home. I lived a million miles away. Further, she was adamant that she would never be in a relationship again. The miserable existence she had led had made her cynical about marriage, which is something that I very much wanted in my own future. How would we ever meet one another given all that? And to what end?

One day Tess excitedly told me that she had gotten a passport application. A passport!!! This is a woman who fears walking out her door and she is getting a passport!!!! To visit me would require getting on a plane. Flying. A very long flight, at that. Airports… connecting flights… all of which are a bit farther than her doorway. How was this going to work? But I became excited by the prospect. I really wanted to meet this woman but there was still that nagging doubt in my mind: to what end? She didn’t want another man in her life for fear she would end up with another like the one she escaped from. She had never left England before. Would she want to live in the US? Would she want us to live in the UK? As to the former, would she willingly leave her three grown children behind? She seemed to waffle as to what she saw her future entailing.

But we WERE  becoming so close. We both had been celibate for several years; she from the disgust at being with her slob of a housemate, me from the plethora of medical difficulties that Tracy had suffered from. As we talked about everything under the sun, our conversations eventually turned to the topic of intimacy. For me, that sort of opened a floodgate. I had successfully shut all such thoughts out of my mind, but now I found myself in constant touch with someone who was awakening feelings of want and desire in me. Apparently, she felt the same stirrings. Delving into the subject we learned that we both very much loved and craved intimacy. I missed it immensely as, I suspect, any healthy male would. I never held it against Tracy that it was missing in our relationship, I just accepted it and adopted the mindset of a monk. Tess also missed it greatly, shutting herself down being with someone who showed no passion at all and was only interested when he could force himself upon her. To be blunt, we excited one another. We turned each other on. It became clear that we both had similar levels of desire that were unfulfilled and becoming attracted to one another just launched an endless parade of fantasies. I found it difficult to continue with the monk mindset any longer. 

Things went well throughout December, into January. We still had not heard from Tess’s passport application. We talked incessantly, enjoying each other’s company. I was really beginning to have strong feelings for this woman. Unfortunately, I was completely ignorant of the depth of her feelings for me. Many have said the words ‘I love you‘ to me but I have come to learn that when Tess says it, it takes on a whole new dimension… a whole new meaning. What she means when she says those words is that she is willing to devote her whole life to you, willing to give 100% of herself to you, willing to do anything and everything to please you… and all she asks in return is love and honesty. Being married to a psychopath who had multiple affairs, lied about them, took her for granted, abused her, kept her prisoner, treated her like a slave… he was too stupid to realize that all she ever wanted was to be loved. I wish I had understood that earlier.

I began to, once more, let my cynicism run wild. As wonderful as we got on together, what future would we have if, as she continually said, she would not marry again? How could we have a future when we lived in separate countries? How could I expect her to leave her homeland where her children lived? Was this all just a nice little fantasy that succored us both or could our union really be a reality? Given all these doubts ricocheting in my mind, I did what was probably the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life. I succumbed to my loneliness and began a relationship with someone physically near and accessible.

Out of respect for this lady I will not go into detail, but the passion that I felt for Tess and have come to feel now was never there. The feeling of comfort like I felt with Tess was never there. There was no intimacy even though we were ostensibly together. I have felt more intimate with Tess on the phone than I felt with this woman while in the same room with her. The whole time I was in this nascent relationship I could not stop thinking of Tess. When I was with this woman I thought of Tess. I am not the smartest individual in the world… sometimes it takes a two-by-four onto my head to pound in some sense. Everything pointed to the fact that Tess was the woman for me, regardless of the difficulties in our being together.

Thankfully, in April, that relationship came to an end. With tail between my legs I turned to Tess and she miraculously accepted me back with open arms. We had never stopped communicating, but now I approached it with a fervor unlike before. I realized that whatever it took, whatever was demanded, I wanted to be with this woman more than I have ever wanted anything in this world. She makes me a better man simply by being in my life. She loves me and accepts me without judgement. I tell her continually that I have been an asshole most of my life and she admonishes me, saying it doesn’t matter. ‘You are not that man anymore‘ she tells me. ‘I love you unconditionally.’ I find it hard to believe I deserve such love but, dear reader, I would not trade this relationship for all the riches in the world. 

Anyway…we renewed our relationship, much to my relief. I vowed to myself that I was committed to Tess and no other for the rest of my days on earth. I heard her utter the words ‘I love you‘ on the phone. Reading it as a text and hearing the sexiest voice I can imagine saying it are two entirely different things. It took my breath away. I told her I loved her and she tells me she had a similar reaction. Now we were serious. Unbeknownst to me, she always had been. I was the one who was late to the party.

She began going out, walking her dog so we could talk. She no longer felt comfortable talking with her housemate about. Tess and I acknowledged our love for one another and she continued to endure the physical and mental bashing which caused me growing concern. I knew now, however, that this was a temporary thing. I was convinced for the first time that some how, some way, we were going to end up together and be able to enjoy After Eights for the rest of our natural lives.

To be continued…

November the 17th, 2017, was about to change my whole life… well events on that night were anyway. See, I was living in a very controlling, abusive marriage, had been for thirty five years. At the time all I knew was that I never felt happy. I just kind of existed, lived in limbo, co-existing with a guy who either didn’t know I was alive or made my life hell. Each day just rolled into the other. I became overweight (I will explain another time). I suffered depression, many serious illnesses. As I say, I was just getting by, waiting for the end, if I’m being honest. My husband had gone away for three days. His parting words as he slammed out the door were ‘when I get back you’re moving back into our bed. No more of this futon downstairs malarky‘. I had escaped there months earlier using my puppy, Briar, as an excuse. As the days passed I became more withdrawn, shutting down fast. The thought of sleeping with this man filled me with every kind of horror… disgust even. I felt physically sick. I’d slept downstairs with my puppy on that futon for months now. I’d escaped for a time. I hadn’t had to fight off searching hands in the dark. I wasn’t having to lay awake all night, as sleep brought horrors I’m not prepared to disclose.

The night before he was due home I went onto my self help group where I was an admin. We were about assisting one another through Agoraphobia. I loved working on there… put in many hours. It was my one source of pleasure. That and my puppy. I signed in but just couldn’t concentrate on anything, so unusual for me, but I tried and put in some hours. As the night wore on, time passing fast, it got nearer to my husband coming back. I sat staring into space dreading the hours going, his key in the door .

As an admin on our help group we have our own space to talk ,wind down, as it could get very stressful. I looked out for my friends. I needed someone to reach out to but wasn’t sure I could share everything with these ladies. One light was there in the darkness, a little blue circle with a silhouette of a guitar player told me Jesse was on. Now I’d had a few laughs with Jesse but never confided in him, but for some reason we chatted. I said I was waiting for Dee, a fellow admin I shared many a confidence with over the 18 months; Dee never came on. I grew more distraught. I think Jess sensed this and asked what’s wrong. I didn’t mean to totally unburden; he knew I hesitated and said lean on me. Soon as I started out it tumbled… hours and hours of abuse, horrors, things I’d never told another human. He listened. He said the odd word but mainly listened to the whole sorry tale. Take into account this is online and we are typing back and forth. When many many hours later we had stopped talking, Jess went quiet. I saw his flicking light but no answers came. I thought I’d horrified him… thought he was upset, which I learnt, yes, he was, but not with me.

He couldn’t believe the catalogue of horrors. Half hour later he came back and said he couldn’t believe this life of mine. He had always thought I was this happy woman living on a farm with pet cows, cream and jam scones, fresh eggs and a hunky farmer husband. (sighs) If only. But this was the mask I’d given my co-workers. I didn’t want the fact I was so very miserable coming across. See, I only let them see my humour, my love of helping people. Jess and I had chatted all night. He was the first person to say ‘you do know what your living with is abuse don’t you?‘ There it was, in black and white, someone else saw my misery, someone else felt my pain. We chatted many many more times after this, but that night, that dark night, that very special night, something amazing happened: I fell in love.

I didn’t mean to. I had been a faithful wife for 35 years, but here it was. I also realised I’d never been in love before. Here I was at the grand age of ahemmm… falling for a man halfway across the world. I’d never even seen him for goodness sake but I hurtled faster than a comet. I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t eat. For a foody not to eat, well, it’s unheard of LOL. I lost nearly a stone in a week. I guess I was almost in shock. One morning very shyly I confessed to Jess how I felt thinking I’d never hear from him again. He was sweet about it… told me he cared. Gradually over the weeks a bond grew and love blossomed. We wrote daily, sending poems and love notes. I fell headlong with no way of turning back. This man was and is the love of my life, someone I take each breath for… someone who showed a very damaged human being kindness, gentleness and love.

…..to be continued..

Jesse’s Perspective of Chapter 1

The Agoraphobia group that Theresa refers to is one of the two I joined when
I first got on Facebook back in 2014. In them I found the support I needed to
kick a 9-year sequestering of myself. They literally saved my life because I
was of a mind that it was not worth continuing. I also made many good friends
in these two groups. Online friends or no, they were there when I needed
someone.

When Tracy and I got together she was very paranoid about the internet and
Facebook. She had an ex who had vowed to hunt her down and kill her because she
had been made to testify against him in a murder trial… from which he ended
up doing time in prison. She was not keen on my Facebook activity but was
somewhat mollified when I took steps to be as private as possible and not
divulge her name in any way being connected to me. Hence she became Lady T.

She would often sit at my side and observe as I communicated with friends on
Facebook, never entertaining the thought of getting involved herself. She got
to know the people in my groups and would comment on them. Theresa was one such
person she noted. By this time I was involved in a weekly trivia challenge that
several of my online friends took part in. Trace would often comment on
several, one being this Theresa persona. She thought she was witty and funny. I
felt the same. She became one of the people on there I looked forward to
interacting with… strictly in a platonic way. The more I got to know the
people in the group the more I got to know them and their personalities. I
found Theresa one of the more impressive ones. My mental picture of her was as
a farm wife, happily married, out feeding the chickens every day, dropping
everything late in the day to fix dinner for her devoted husband. I don’t know
why this was the vision I had, it just was. I would learn later that she is a
master mask wearer.

Time marched on. Trace and I moved from Phoenix to my hometown of Columbus,
Ohio. We both hated Phoenix… loathed Arizona… and were not too keen on the
whole of the southwest United States. We packed up our belongings in a U-Haul
and set out across country, chronicling our journey online so my friends could
follow. That was not the original intent. I had figured no one would possibly
be interested in the trek of two boring people across the great expanse of
America known as the Great Plains. At our first stop I posted pictures and the
response was so astounding that I kept it up for the duration. I realized that,
as most of the friends I had suffered from anxiety issues and agoraphobia,
vicariously traveling across the nation was something that really struck a
chord with them. Who knew my boring life could be entertainment for someone
housebound!

Our time in Columbus was infinitely better than our stretch in the hell that
is Phoenix. I began writing little anecdotes recounting the adventures of me,
Trace and our menagerie of pets. These were received very well and became
popular. Many people would comment on them, some privately, and I would get to
know these few a bit better than just conducting the general banter in the group
forum. Trace was right there following everything and being entertained by the
interaction. She got to know everyone in my groups as well as I did… still
refusing to take part herself. In retrospect it is haunting that she would
comment on Theresa out of all the individuals in there. Eventually myself and
several of the other members in Theresa’s group formed a separate, private chat
forum and we would all sit and make each other laugh for hours. Again Theresa
was front and center and I began to consider her as a friend… a real one, not
just one like you could buy at WalMart.

One day in mid-August, 2017, Trace and I had a discussion that couples often
do like who-would-you-want-me-to-be-with-if-something-happened-to you? Tracy
mentioned my cousin, a woman from one of her social group meetings and two
ladies from the Facebook group, one being Theresa. She said “She’s
funny, witty and smart. She makes you laugh and that is important.“
The irony of this conversation would be driven home a couple weeks later when I
found Tracy dead on the kitchen floor one morning.

To say I was devastated would really not be doing justice to my mindset
after Trace left. I actually contemplated suicide at one point. Through the
love, support and friendship of the friends I had made online, I was talked off
the ledge and helped through the grieving process. (Though one could argue the
grieving process never really ends.) One friend from another group spent hours
with me on the phone. Theresa was integral in getting me through it all via
chatting, usually in the collective group we had formed. Everyone was so
helpful. To say they saved my life would not be hyperbole.

For the next couple of months I turned to the group more and more to cope,
to get through Tracy’s memorial service. Several of my friends went so far as
to send flowers, fruit baskets… a few got together and sent a gardenia bush
which I discovered in a giant pot on my front porch when I returned from
Tracy’s service. To say I was touched does not really do justice to the emotion
of the moment. I sat on the sofa and bawled like a baby. I was so touched… so
overcome with emotion that I could not think of anything else to do. I will
always love all those who helped at the time. How I deserved such beautiful
friends is beyond my grasp.

A few months passed. I spent a lot of time in chat with our little group of
friends. Then came that fateful night of November 17, 2017. I was chatting with
Theresa (Tess is my pet name) and she seemed troubled. I had followed her life
through her posts in the group and encouraged her like everyone else as she
progressed toward overcoming her debilitating agoraphobia. I prompted her to
talk to me or someone else to unload the burden she obviously bore. For
whatever reason, she showed me the ultimate trust in sharing what was
essentially her life story. It became very clear that my image of the happily
married farm wife could not have been farther from the truth. She was
miserable… living in a sham of a ‘marriage’. I let her know that she deserved
better. If you know nothing else about me know that I detest bullies and cowards that prey on women and children. She stole my heart that night.

We began chatting regularly as much as I could. I had a business to run, but
this woman was steadily creeping into my world and making me feel good just
talking with her. One night she shyly…. hesitantly confessed that she cared
for me. For my part, I knew I cared for her. There were some issues however….
1) she was married, and I do not have relationships with married women. The
fact that she was not now nor had she ever been in a real marriage… was
merely chattel for the monster to use… gave me something to hang my hat on.
2) She lived 3,875 miles away… in another country… on the other side of an
ocean… on the other side of the world. What future would we have? 3) I was
still grieving Trace, though I think I had pretty much had gotten past the
worst of it. Was it companionship that attracted me or was I really falling for
this woman?

I wanted to express my undying love right then. I had deepening feelings for
her, I realized. I felt better with her than I did without her. She seemed to get
me. No one besides Trace had ever gotten me. We had similar tastes in
music, movies, books, food, humour… we were like psychic twins. I had no idea
what she looked like but I found I did not care. I was falling in love with her
spirit… her soul… her mind. She could have been the elephant woman for all
I cared. I really liked her. And I knew I wanted to keep talking with her
forever. We starting writing poems and stories to one another almost daily. And
WOW could she write. She lacked confidence about her writing skill because no
one had ever encouraged her, but I was blown away. It takes an intrinsic talent
to convey your raw emotion in verse… in prose… and she could do it as well
as anyone I had ever known. I felt like my talking with her was a positive in
her life. And I was smitten. I had loved Tracy and she had loved me
boundlessly. I never thought I would find someone to love again for, like
Theresa, I have a self-doubt issue wherein I do not see myself as worthy of
being loved. Tracy sort of put a major dent in that. Now comes this incredible
woman who smashes it all to hell. She made me feel a much better man than I
felt on my own. She made me feel wonderful. She made the world a brighter
place. Her past enraged me but it did not define her in my mind one iota. I saw
her as this exquisite creature that I had been blessed to meet. I saw her as a
woman who had a ton of love to give and no one ever to give it to. I saw her as
a fighter… a survivor… for getting through all the hell she had endured.
She was not in a marriage… she was a prisoner locked in a cage, made to serve
a brutal overlord. I had sympathy for her plight, but that was not the salient
point. She was just an amazing woman.

I had to admit to myself that I was in love with this lady. Thank God I did,
because the love we have created is beyond anything I ever imagined could
exist. But we will get to that later. There is still a very long journey to
write about and I will get to the next chapter as soon as possible. This
amazing creature has an incredible life story. I hope you enjoy reading it. You
will end up loving her, too.

To be continued….

As you get to know me, you will learn of my great loves in my life. Firstly my children, then my first big love: Jess. After my gorgeous American comes, drum roll… or should that be Swiss roll (kind of cake for those countries that don’t have them) my love of food is huge folks. I make no apologies. Throughout life’s trials and tribulations food has been a constant.

The last few days have been hell. I will fill you in with it gradually. Can’t tell you all the juicy stuff at once. I’ve woken two days in a row depressed. Today there were tears… couldn’t stop it… didn’t try. Last night I ate a whole box of French Fancies, tiny little morsels of cakey delight, covered in fondant of pink, yellow or chocolate. Yes I’m ashamed to say the whole box got eaten. I was saving some for today, but anxiety reared its ugly head and before I knew it, one after the other, tiny bites of gorgeousness sacrificed themselves by jumping into my mouth. They died a delicious, I mean noble death. I would say I felt guilty after, but do you know what?… I really didn’t. Those sweet little things went down a treat. I savoured every last crumb, every tender bite. It was almost as good as one of Jesse’s kisses. Note the ‘almost’. Today I woke again, that awful malaise over me, so I thought ‘Treez, just go for it girl‘. I let the tears wash over me. Went downstairs, washed up, so at least now I smell vaguely human… well, of lemon source anyhow. Made a sandwich of whatever was in. Going out right now, being just too much to cope with. Not up to peopling right now. May either cry all over them or tell them politely, of course, to fluff off. Anyhow, today’s delight in-between the bread slices, was Philadelphia and mayonnaise. Ok, no cordon bleu but, hey, it worked. Washed down with best bottled co-op 2019 fizzy water, followed by After Eights. Sorry, honey, one of your bags volunteered to be my next victim. But were they good! Hell yeah!! Am I still depressed, low? ‘Course yes. Do I regret eating either of these? No way! Both were blooming good. Both hit the spot. I’m still shaking with nerves, but also I’ve no regrets. As I say the past few days or even a year really have been tough.

I am proud to be the first poster on the love of my life’s new blog. She is, in my estimation, a phenomenal writer and now the world will be able to see that for themselves. Get ready for some exciting insights, anecdotes, witticisms and all around jocularity. I love this woman. If you follow this blog, you will, too.