This rainbow capped off a rather crummy day. Like always, its whats at the end of the rainbow that counts. Its very nice to see the sky smile at you.
[ It never happened, but we wanted it to. Her Mom got sick, people protested, there was drama. And finally, she started back at her Job on February 4th, and that was the end of that. On the 3rd, she told me, "No job is worth losing you, Mark." It was left unfinished... I moved there, and what we have now is a bad end of history... Yet, I still feel exactly the same way. ]
It’s Friday, January 18th, 2008 at approximately 10:30AM EST … and the Wildcat and I are making our last trip back to Kentucky where I leave her and come back home alone.
The last six months feel like forever, yet they have gone by so quickly at the same time.
Apart, thoughts are consumed with things we’ve done, things we’ll do. Together, we’re consumed in each other. When we stumble, we hold on tighter. When we’re down, we lift each other up.
Every experience I’ve ever had prepared me for the moment that I met her. Every bit of agony made me appreciate her that much more.
On New Years Eve, at thirty seconds to midnight, I stooped on one knee and asked for her hand, the hand that I knew would hold mine for the rest of our lives. With a resounding “Yes!” and a ring set on her finger, we entered the New Year with a kiss and a promise.
And now, it’s time that promise was realized.
I’ve lost my job. My things. My car. My home. My family. My sanity.
My Wildcat… She taught me how to Love, how to be open…
And then … what it feels like to truly fear.
I can have all all I want in the world, but it will never matter without her.
Because now I’ve lost her, too.
And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. No amount of compromise, bending over backwards, psychiatry, psychology or anything else can fix this. She’s made up her mind: “Goodbye, Mark.”
And still, I am completely and totally in love with her. There is no compromise, there’s no less love, there’s no anger, just …. fear.
Now my biggest fear is realized.
I lost her.
(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uZrddP5A4WY)
And I just want to sleep and not wake up again.
All I can sit here and do is look at this post-it, and think…
Neither can I…
I need my Wildcat now.
Forever.
At the end of last July, I couldn’t stand to be anywhere. The phone was ringing off the hook. There were insane text messages of love and hate and filth and I got in my car, and I drove until I had no cell phone signal.
I sat down on a bench. A beautiful blonde came out, and sat down next to me. She peered over the top of her glasses, revealing the most gorgeous brown eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Let me see yours,” she said softly.
We stared at each other, silently, for what seemed an eternity.
She took my hand, turned it over, traced it with her fingertips. I watched, and traced the back of her hand with my own. No words…
My heart raced, fear and aniticipation and… something? What was it? I felt lightheaded, breathless, trembling. It was different, different like we’d been so close, and just missed each other, a million times, and then finally, finally came together. It felt to be the single most important event in my life. The earth moved, life became more vivid. Like God had looked down on me and smiled.
And that was what began an amazing journey.
She looked at me like I’d always needed to be looked at; dead in the eyes, and with her warm, gentle smile. She touched me the way I’d always needed to be touched; gentle caresses that would send shivers down my spine. Upset, she’d pull me close and tell me not to worry about it, that it’d all work out.
And I’d do the same for her, holding her so close that I intimately know the salty-sweet taste of her tears, running my fingers through her hair and whispering that I would always be there, that everything was gonna be okay.
And I will continue.
I’ve never met anyone with a greater propensity for Love as my Wildcat.
The one.
My heart belongs to her.
Our hearts belong together.
That’s just the way it is.
The last two weeks have been trying and terrifying.
I’ve realized something, too. The Wildcat and I hate drama so much that we’ll ignore it until everything falls down into a catastrophic event. At that point, we both panic. Everything becomes a thousand times worse.
For my part, I’ve been in panic mode for a week and a half. But Saturday night, when she called and asked for help, I immediately snapped out of it. There was no question what had to be done. The only thing that mattered to me was that she was safe, and I was gonna make damn sure of that, regardless of threats or obstacles.
I held her all day and night, and I wish that we’d had more time together.
A few months ago, we had a dream together. It was a dream where the last twenty-three years had never happened. Instead, we’d met, we’d fallen in love and we’d had three wonderful kids, and finally ended up exactly where we were that night. It was powerful, and it’s something I’ve held onto.
Spending more and more time with those three, I realized that I do claim them as my own, and nobody who knows us would doubt it for a second. I love them. And I love my Wildcat for finally giving me the family that I’ve never had.
Anyone who thinks that I am not committed 150% to my family is a fool.
Anyone who doubts that I don’t love them more than anything in the world is a damn fool.
Again, I ask for prayers. And this time, I ask for all of us.
There are three things in my life more important to me than anything else in this world. All three things are intertwined throughout each other. Sometimes, it’s hard to admit how much some things can mean to you. But I’m gonna try.
First, there’s my Wildcat, the single, most important thing, and the most important person, in my life. If I had no one else in the world, I’d need her. If I had everything else in the world, I’d need her to share it with.
It’s not enough to say that I Love this women with every fiber of my being. In fact, I would kill and die for this woman. Ultimately, she trumps everything else in this mortal coil. It’s no small matter that If I’m down, she can cheer me up with a look. Although, the flipside is also true: she crush me just as easily.
But I need that. And I need her.
The kids are important to me. They’re all three over eighteen, growing-but-not-grown (though they’d surely argue that). They fall somewhere between the Wildcat and I to varying degrees, and at times, it’s scary how much we’re alike. With the exception of the eldest who I’ve only met a few times, we’re all so similar that that they truly seem like they’re ours together.
I wouldn’t have them if it weren’t for her. They’ve proven to me what family really is.
I need that. I need them.
The last important thing to me can be construed as selfish.
I have a strong desire to know that something in my life matters, that something I do will matter.
You see, I’ve done a lot in my life. I realized a couple of years ago that I’ve had a tremendous life, in fact, having done everything I ever set out to do and having been everywhere I ever wanted to go. It was never enough until I met my Wildcat, who showed me the true meaning of Love and what Family is all about.
You see, it’s important to me to have a positive effect on these four people. They are my life blood. They mean more to me than anything else in this world. They matter. Their happiness matters. Their stability matters. They are the something in my life that matters.
And I need that. I need them.
There are naysayers in my life who can’t understand that. Perhaps their family relationships are so fragmented and sinuous that they can’t grasp the concept. Perhaps they’re so disconnected from humanity that they’re incapable of caring about anyone else. Or, perhaps they’ve never known what Love is.
I can only hope that they might understand one day.
The fact remains that there is nothing more important to me than this family. They have to come first regardless of consequence. They matter, and will always matter, above everything else.
They are my family.
It is thoughts and prayers for them that get me through.
For them, I can still be Superman.
I hope…
When you say the word “committed,” several different things come to mind.
Webster’s Dictionary provides the following insight into the word “committed:”
- gave in trust or charge; consigned.
- consigned for preservation: committed ideas to writing; to committed a poem to memory.
- pledged (oneself) to a position on an issue or question; expressed (one’s intention, feeling, etc.): Asked if he was a candidate, he refused to be committed.
- bound or obligated, as by pledge or assurance; pledged: committed oneself to a promise; committed to a course of action.
- entrusted, esp. for safekeeping; commended: committed her soul to God.
- did; performed; perpetrated: committed murder; committed an error.
- consigned to custody: committed a delinquent to a reformatory.
- placed in a mental institution or hospital by or as if by legal authority: He was committed on the certificate of two psychiatrists.
- delivered for treatment, disposal, etc.; relegated: committed a manuscript to the flames.
- sent into a battle: The commander has committed all his troops to the front lines.
- Parliamentary Procedure. refered (a bill or the like) to a committee for consideration.
- pledged or engaged oneself: an athlete who has committed to the highest standards.
Now look at this picture:
Which one(s) apply?
It’s the Wildcat’s birthday today. Like many women, she worries about her age. Looking at her, I still can’t figure out why she’s worried about that at all. Nobody believes her when they find out. I end up looking younger for standing beside her.
The more she smiles and laughs, the younger she looks. Seriously, at the rate she’s going, she’ll look like a teenager at 80.
She’s an amazing woman who’s accomplished a lot in the face of adversity, and yet, she’s so humble. She managed to raise three kids on her own, went back to school and worked towards a career in healthcare. Oh, and she’s not stopping there! She’s got hardcore potential, and proves over and over again that she can do anything that she sets her mind to.
On top of it, she’s a hottie — getting hit on by men from eighteen to eighty — and doesn’t even realize it. She has the most gorgeous eyes ever. She can melt me in an instant with a gaze that makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world.
“God, you’re beautiful!”
“No, I’m not…” she replies meekly, her cheeks flushing to a pale pink.
Truly, she has plenty to be proud of.
Me, I’m just proud to call her mine.
Happy Birthday, sweetie.
May we have many more. *smooch!*
In response to a message asking, “What does ‘happy’ look like?” I decided to post a photo from earlier today.
It looks something like this…
…minus the squinty eyes from snow blindness.
Nice Snow Angel, huh? 
