Recollection Of Love

I have an abundance of letters, pictures, cards, and homemade…or prison made…gifts from his stay.

I look at them all the time and think “wow” did we really make it through all of the shit we went through?

He made this log cabin out of rolled up newspaper and rocks.  It was my third year valentines day gift.  It was so beautiful and detailed.  The craftsmanship behind it took me by surprise.

The best part is that it opens up and there is a secret compartment inside it.  I lifted up the compartment and there was a beautiful note that literally touched my heart.  The entire thing just brought tears to my eyes.

How in the world could someone love ME so much?  Of all people…me?

What in the world did I do to deserve this kind of love?

I look at it today and I cry for more than one reason.

Although it is still the most beautiful thing I have ever received from any man, simply because it came straight from the heart and took I know a good few months to build…

It brings back so many painful memories as well…

Just as all of the contents of his drawer do.

I created this drawer in my nightside table for him.  I kept everything he ever gave me in it.  Gosh, there has to be enough letters to make a novel.

What is the title that Larry names his piece that he writes about Piper in the Orange Is The New Black?

“One sentence; two prisoners”

I never saw it as me being in “prison” per se, so let’s name it…

Hmm…

Love Has No limits.

Ha…

Funny , right?

I’m not sure ifI have ever told you about that story, so let’s just keep that one on the DL for now.

So, if one day you are walking past those shops on the sidewalks with the giant windows that display all these random books and magazines; you happen to see a book called “Love Has No Limits” and it has a picture of handcuffs on it…you might wanna check it out.

Not that I am ever going to publish that, but it is a thought now that I have mentioned it to put all the letters in order and make it into my own personal book.

Probably not a good idea.

There’s a hell of a lot of raw emotion when your loved one is incarcerated.

Damn.

Anyway, I got slightly off track.

He would send me a card or some creation he came up with for each special day of the year.

My birthday.

Christmas.

Valentines Day.

Hell, this wonderful man even sent me something for Mothers Day.

I’m a naturally emotional person, so I would cry like a little baby even at the sight of my name on an envelop before I ever opened it.

“HE LOVES ME!!! HE REALLY LOVES ME!!!”

It’s like…

“I just got a letter, I just got a letter, I just got a letter…wonder it’s it from?!”

I would even do a little dance and squeal with excitement.

I’m sure it was entertainment for the neighbors to see this lanky white girl walking to the mailbox going through the mail and seeing a letter from her man causing her to scream and jump up and down.  All the other letters would fly in the air as I ran to the house to open it.

The funny thing is…

I’m not even kidding.  I never skipped a beat.  It was just natural.

Oh and just in case you guys are wondering about me continuing to use past tense, it’s because he is no longer in prison.  If you’ve read my stuff before I think I started blogging when he had 10 months left or 6 or something like that.

The crazy shit you do when you’re in love, huh?

XoXo.

Love Is Love Is Love

There are two things in this world that absolutely make my heart melt.

My daughter and my man.

When I really sit and think about what I love about him, I also sit back and think “hey, I love that about my babygirl, too”.

Example being; her smile lights up the entire room.  You can be in the worst mood, and she will smile at you and it seems as if the bad mood just melts away.  The same feeling goes for him.

Obviously, there is a HUGE difference.  The love between a parent and child is most definitely different than the love between a man and a woman…or a man and a man or a woman and a woman…whichever way you roll.  But, the two things that make me the happiest and that could swipe away my bad mood within just a second are those two loves of my life.  They can both do it the same.

As many of you know, I have had so much trouble connecting with her.  My stepmom recently told me that she was afraid that I would never find it to be able to actually enjoy having her.  Although, it took this long, I can finally say that I thoroughly love to watch her grow and learn.  I love it when she walks to me with her arms up in her walker, because she hasn’t quite gotten the walking down to pat.  She is only 7 months after all.  I love when she follows me around.  I love when I walk by, how she reaches for me.  I love the way she lays her head against me when she is sleepy.  I love the way she guides the spoon to her own mouth because I can’t see it.  I love it all.  I even love when I change her diaper, because of the way she tries to flip around and grab everything in sight.  It’s just down right cute!  I love that I finally love her the way a mother should love her child.

Discovering this…made me realize that I want to experience it again and again…except, this time……

with the man I love.

Two things in this whole world can make me or break me at the drop of a hat.  I would lay down my life for either one of them if it came down to it.  He would say “No, you have to stay behind to take care of our 14 children”.  But, knowing that he would do the same for me is enough in itself.

Just for future reference…we are not going to have 14 children.  We are not the Duggars and I do not have the patience or the capacity to go through 126 months of pregnancy.  HECK NO.

Just another thought out loud, I guess.  I was going to write it in my journal thing, but I realized that they changed wordpress again.  Could be a good thing and could mean more posts!

But, for now…I’m going to go enjoy life.

XoXo

Dance With The Shadows

I love to have fun.  i love to dance, i love to sing, I love to ride four-wheelers.  Now, given I have the WORST singing voice and my dance moves are from some wack time period that no one wants to look back on, I pretty much am not good at anything.  Geez.  Something as simple as driving a four-wheeler takes it’s toll on me.

i know what you’re thinking.  “Didn’t she say…she couldn’t drive because of her vision?”

Yep.  Yes I did.  My hand-eye coordination is worse than a newborn baby’s.

Anyway, I don’t get out and do any of it.

It’s fun and I love it, but I really don’t have anyone to go out with…except for occasionally a friend.  Half the time, I don’t do anything because I’m waiting for him.

Everything would be so much more fun and enjoyable if he were here.  I wouldn’t be dancing alone in my bedroom with the music turned up.  i’d be dancing with my love.

I wrote this poem after we started dating.

Beside the weeping willow and beneath the moonlit sky

I grab the hand of my partner whom is always by my side

We watch the silhouettes of every passerby

The cats, the people, the bats that swiftly fly

Noises to my left drown out the ones to my right

i squeeze the hand of my partner a little too tight

i’m  lost little lover in the middle of the night

Watching all the other lovers faces shine bright

A silhouette approaches us as I try to hide

A voice of a man stretches far and wide

“May I have this dance, or are you to shy?”

I look to my partner and I swear I heard a sigh

I told the man I’m sorry and that I couldn’t oblige

Although it was tempting, I’m by my lover’s side

ou should dance with the shadows, I politely replied

The man smiled at my partner and winked his eye

“Sir, you can have any shadow, but this one’s mine”

I think my favorite lines have to be “I’m a lost little lover in the middle of the night, watching all the other lovers faces shine bright”

That alone explains what it’s like to be with someone you can’t particularly have.  We have it all; as I’ve said before…except for the physical.

I know he’s by my side and he’s right with me at all times…but at the same time who do I get to dance with?

Once again…

Patience is a virtue.

I’ll be holding his hand forever.  It doesn’t even matter if he’s here with me or if he’s still incarcerated.  I’m holding on.

People ask me all the time “how do you do it’

I just do.

XoXo

Eye Of The Beholder

I remember back at UALR when I was in Mr. Somebody’s class.  (I really don’t remember the name, this isn’t one of those times that I’m just covering it up)

He had this “method” to get people to talk in class.  He’d give us a topic and make us freewrite for 5 to 10 minutes, then we’d sit in a circle and read aloud our writings.

How stupid is that?  You have to sit in a circle so that everyone looks at you while you’re doing something you don’t want to do in the first place?  Talk about uncomfortable.

I’ve got bad social anxiety, though, so maybe it was just me.  Believe it or not, sometimes I weaseled my way out of reading mine.  I’m just naturally a quiet and calm person…at first.  Once you get to know me, though…beware.  I’m weird.  That’s the only way my man describes it.

Anyway, I remember two instances where I didn’t get to avoid humiliating myself.

The first time was when the topic was “what is beauty”.  Everyone went around listing their thoughts and reading their long writings.  It took up an entire class.  The last five minutes was up to me.  Last is best, right?  Know what I said?

“It is in the eye of the beholder.”

That’s all.  That is the only thing I had written down.  Mr. Somebody looked at me and said “uh huh…and?”  So, I just looked at him sternly and said “and that’s it”  The class was quiet for the remainder of time and then we were dismissed.  He didn’t say anything to me about that.

The second time, the topic was “what is love”.  Oh, boy.

Now, I’m almost positive he chose this topic to get a rise out of the only emo girl in the room.  Yeah, she’s going to have a good response to this one.

He was right.  I wrote and wrote and ended up with a page and a half of what I thought love was.  Once again, last is best…

“It is in the eye of the beholder”

Needless to say, he wanted to have a meeting with me as to why I wasn’t saying anything. It’s simple.  I was there to get my education, not talk.  I can’t help that I’m quiet.

ANYWAY…

The reason this is relevant is because it’s the truth.  Everything is in the eye of the beholder.

You may see me as a blind, cheating, loser…but he doesn’t.

You may see him as a wild, loud, redneck…but…well…that’s besides the point.

Some people see me dating a prisoner, a bad guy, and that’s ALL they see.  But, you know what I see?

I see myself dating the most sincere, genuine, kind-hearted individual that just so happens to be locked up.  I see someone that has morals and values.  I see strength and honor.  He has honesty and he has determination.  I see someone who loves me.  That’s what’s in my eye.

Sometimes, people get so caught up in their ways and forget to look at the bigger picture. Yeah, he’s incarcerated, but that doesn’t make him any less of a man.

Maybe, I sport around a heart to big.

Maybe, I just care to much about people.

But, you know what?  I will never judge someone, because there’s always more than what meets the eye.

I guess it’s just frustrating because people are so…naive when it comes to others.

I had someone tell me I am stupid for waiting on him.  He said a lot more, but that’s irrelevant.  But, you know what?

I am proud of my boyfriend and I’d wait forever and a day if it came down to it.

It’s all in the eye of the beholder.

XoXo

How To Train A Dragon

When the beast is unleashed, whose to say what’s going to happen.

Prison is stressful in itself.  Of course, I’ve never been locked up personally, but I can only imagine.

You’re around the same people all day long in and out.  Privacy?  Hell no.  I know you’ve seen the prison movies.

Wrath of Caine

Shawshank Redemption

The Green Mile

American History X

Stranger Inside

Now, I’m not saying the movies are anything like real life…BUT…

Have you ever seen someone ask for a breather and get it?

I’ll answer that one for ya…nope.

The stress gets to be to much sometimes.  I can try all day long to calm him down, but I just am not the “breather” he needs.  It’s hard to comfort someone from the outside looking in.  Same goes for him.  He can’t be here to hold me when I’m crying.  Now, if he could be…that’d be movie status.

Sometimes, I wonder if I will ever be enough.  If I can’t relieve him, how can I be who he needs?  The truth is…I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.

All I can do is love him and reassure him of that.  Other than that…I’m helpless.  And you know what?  It sucks.

Persistence: continuing firmly or obstinately in a course of action in spite of difficulty or opposition

That’s all I can do.  When he needs me, he knows I’m here.  He knows I’m not going anywhere.  No matter how much steam needs to be let loose…I’m going to keep being persistent in moving him forward.

This thing takes a lot of strength, I’m not even going to lie.

It makes the movies look like a piece of cake.  Since when do movies portray the hardships of maintaining a healthy relationship behind bars?

Sometimes, I wish I could talk to someone who actually knows him.  Sometimes, I seek advice from within…but I only know him from what I know him as…nothing other than that.  Does that even make sense?

Everything is just clashing together.  I will be the strength that he needs…it gets heavy pulling myself and him, though.

I can do it.  He pulls me sometimes, so I can return the favor.

Such acts of love and companionship.  We’re cute.

So, to answer my own question…how DO you tame the beast?

Persistence…

and perhaps a snickers.

XoXo

Look And Listen

Sometimes, I try to understand people by the way they analyze poetry.  Here is one that I wrote a while back.

Spent a lifetime wishing, always hoping…never ceasing, never coping…couldn’t swallow, to busy choking…long lost love, forever provoking

Needles and knives, through the night…tears of blood , a grotesque sight, say it once, say it twice…never perfect, never right

Days move forward, sleep is lacking…joyous, charming, memories slacking…smiles fade, never cracking…torment and hatred, steadily stacking

Cheaters, thieves, stubborn liars…melt and burn in hasty fires..for all the urges and desires…fulfill the lifetime until it expires

Ok, so I know this is probably what you’d consider “emo” but, to me…it means enjoy the little things in life.  People get so caught up on nonsense and irrelevance that they forget what could make your day better.  Nothing is as bad as it seems.

Day after day, I grow more and more anxious for him to be home and I forget to enjoy him as I have him.  This prison thing could be good for us….if you look at it that way.

How?

Well, we connect on an emotional level.  We’ve had the opportunity to grow and learn about each other.  We’ve been able to draw the lines and communicate.  We have been able to get to know each other as opposed to jumping into sex and physical aspects that distract you from what really matters.

When you marry someone, you marry them because you love them.  I know people often times look over what makes a relationship.  We’ve had time to grow as a unit stronger and stronger.  We know what we want and what we don’t want.  We have it all.

The only thing we are missing is the physical aspect.  But, you know what?  Since we are so close heart to heart, we will be even closer as a whole when he comes home.

Love: an intense feeling or deep affection

Enjoy the little things.  Don’t get carried away with “what if’s”.

XoXo

Definitions Of A Good Man

I may be slightly biased, but it’s my blog anyway, so I have the right to be.

When I tell him that I’m the luckiest girl in the world, he always responds the same way.

“No, I’m the lucky one.  You’re just crazy.”

How many men would be able to forgive a betrayal like that?  I know it still hurts, but he doesn’t let it come in between us.  Every once in a while there will be a random outbreak of sadness and anger, but that’s just normal.  It hurts me too, though, so it isn’t a one way street by any means.

How many men would accept a child of infidelity as his own?  I never asked him to.  In fact, as bad as it seems, I tried to hide her cries from him for the longest.  I didn’t want to hurt him anymore than I already had.  The first time he heard her cry, he got silent.  I immediately tried to distract him, but he came back with something unexpected.  He wasn’t sad, he was concerned and wanted to be here to help comfort her.

He is an amazing man.  That’s why I say I’m lucky.

He always says “whether it’s on paper or not, we’re married, because it’s in my heart.”

He stands up for what he believes in and he won’t settle for less.  He wants what he wants and he is determined to get it.  I am the lucky one.

He often tells me that his mother sent me to him to tame his wild side.  One thing I have learned from country boys, though, is that you can take the boy out of the country…but you can’t take the country out of the boy.

This is a bit mushy and a little unfocused, but I can’t shake the thoughts of how truly lucky I really am.  I love him, it’s that simple.

If it was his mother that put me in his path, then she did a good job, because no matter how rough times get, I’m hooked.  I’m not going anywhere.  We’ve come a long way.

It’s almost been two years since the first letter.

On that note, I will go ahead and sign off with this:

A Good Man: My Man.

XoXo

Confessional…

Here’s a big one that causes a lot of controversy and caused a lot of pain.

We had been dating 6 months when I decided to go to Arkansas to visit for the Summer.  I visited with my friends and family.  By this time, the only friends I had in Virginia were the two I had met in bartending school and my man, of course.  Needless to say, I was lacking a social life (still am, but that’s a different story).

I had been in Arkansas maybe a month or so and I started befriending this guy on Facebook.  Yeah, yeah.  “Girls and guys can’t be JUST friends”  I’ve heard it a million times.

Anyway, I know you know where this is going, so let’s just cut to the chase.  When I got back to Virginia, I was excited to meet my new friend so that I could actually have a social life.  I was drinking, having a bit to much fun, and…yep, you guessed it.

I ended up pregnant.

Now, I have always been the faithful girlfriend.  No slip-ups, no accidents…I had great self-control and almost no temptation. So, I went through my mind constantly wondering why would I mess up something so important to me?

Lonely: sad because one has no friends or company…without companions;solitary

Now, before you are to quick to judge me, put yourself in my shoes.  I’m not trying to take the blame off of myself by any means, but look at it like this: you’re new to the area, you don’t know anyone, so you have no one.  Your boyfriend is locked away from you for God knows how long…like I said before, it is hard.  My family was here, yeah, but I’ve seen their faces for he past 23 years.

He stopped talking to me for obvious reason.

Anyway, I hated myself.  I hated my “poor decision” as he calls it.  I hated it all.  I hated living.  I cried myself to sleep every night.  I stared at the walls of my dark bedroom every day.  I shut myself off form the world.  I didn’t want to be a part of it anymore.  I lost my best friend, because of something I did.

I don’t remember how long we went without talking, because it was such a blur, but it wasn’t over a month or two.  He called me.  I stuttered over every word.  My heart felt as if was going to explode.  My legs were numb and I was dizzy.  He still loved me.

Words will never be able to express the guilt and anger towards myself I have felt for so long, but I can tell you that it has gotten so much easier to cope with because of him.  I don’t struggle as much.  If he can forgive me, I should forgive me.

Now, I know you’re probably thinking “oh, well, she did it once, she’s going to do it again” I’ve heard it a million times, so keep that to yourself.  I learned from my mistake.  I learned what it was like without him and I can’t do it.  I won’t do it.  I will not ever do anything to jeopardize us again…for the simple fact that I love him.

My intentions are marrying him and having a family with him.  Gah.  That boy is everything and more.

We’re making it through this and we’re doing a dang good job.  My loneliness is inferior to my love for him.  I’d wait a thousand years if it meant at the end he’d be in my arms.  Love above all.

XoXo

The State Blues

He’s about two hours away from me and I can’t drive.  I was born with a visual impairment enabling me to do a lot of the things that young adults like to do.  I’m lucky I have friends and family who care, though.

I went to see him today.  I at least try to visit him once a month.  Of course, I have to work around everyone else’s schedule.

The rules are simple.  No touching during visit and no clothing showing anything.  See, my style of clothing is a cami with shorts or jeans.  I’ve had to buy t shirts specifically for visiting him.  The first time I went to see him, they wouldn’t let me in.

I was wearing a longsleeve shirt that barely hung off my shoulders and…oh no…jeans with fake holes in them.  Can you believe they made me go to Walmart and buy a dang pair of pants?  What was I looking like walking up in visit, meeting my potential boyfriend, wearing a cheap pair of windbreaker pants and my shirts shoulders pulled up?  I looked like a clown.  We even took a picture like that.  Talk about embarrassing.

Anyway, each time I leave gets harder and harder.  I know I will see him in a few weeks, but the more I don’t have him with me, the more I want to bring him home.  It really is hard…but I’m doing it.

When we met, he had 30 months left.  He is down to under 10 now.  It seems unreal.

Thoughts ride my mind all day lately.  What if he doesn’t like me outside of the walls?  What if he hates cuddling with me?  What if I am to boring for him?  Or, what if he hates my laundry detergent?  Gah.  I can’t wait to wash his clothes.  Is that weird?  Oh well.

All in all; I know that none of my worries are really relevant.  It’s simply just me over-thinking.  I mean; how often is it that your boyfriend that you’ve never known outside of prison walls comes home to you?  Psh.  I’m telling you right now, this is the ONLY time.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I have a lot on my plate, but I don’t really care.  I’m taking it all in stride.  Actually, I have a better question.

How often is it that you find the love of your life…whom happens to love you just as much as you love them?  Yeah.  Way better question.

I know I’m blessed with a lot.  The whole “love behind bars” things is depressing and magical all at the same time.  What we have…is pretty powerful, I’d say.  However, it’s in the eye of the beholder, right?

Here’s a vocabulary lesson.  It’s a very important one, so pay attention.

Patience: the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.

That’s exactly what this thing takes.  Patience.

Quite frankly, it puts the phrase “patience is a virtue” at the top of the list.

I haven’t always been patient, though.  I’ve learned from my mistakes.  You’ll see what I mean eventually.

That’s it for the random thought of the day.  Have a good one.

XoXo

Opposites Attract

I know you’ve heard it time and time again.  So have I.  In this case, though, it couldn’t be more true.

Everyone has asked me multiple times “when are you going to grow out of your emo phase?”  Then, they’d talk down on my piercings, my tattoos, my hair, my makeup, and my clothes.  Thanks guys.  You’re a true supporter!  I am the type of girl that hates country music and I listen to a lot of mainstream pop, but mostly my tastes within everything falls under the alternative category.

Here he is with this deep down country boy attitude.  He loves country music.  He likes to get muddy, he likes to drink, and he likes to get wild.   He loves camo and he loves to hunt.  Eww.  Hunting?  No way!

Never in a million years would I have EVER got with someone so…redneck?  It’s just not my type.  But, look at me now.

I listen to country music (I’ve made him a playlist for when he comes home)  I often find myself looking for pink camo to put my daughter in.

I have always wanted a little rocker baby.  I don’t think she agrees, though.  She is wearing black boots, a black and red hat, and a red onesie with a bluejean dress with the snaps over the shoulders…he says they are called bibs?  I looked over at her and she has taken her boot off and started eating it.  I may be losing the battle with my alternative style.

I’m crazy about the boy, what can I say?

Of course, we have our differences, but who doesn’t?  Don’t worry, if you keep reading my blogs, you’ll find out where most of our issues stem from.

Again, ignore me not mentioning names.  I’m not going to put anyone out there like that.

Well, this is it for the day…or for right now, anyway.  My little girl is wanting attention.  Stay tuned!

XoXo