Memories

Even now, all these years later, I can still recall the day we met, like it was yesterday.
He walked into the store where I worked with a half dozen other people. My eyes were drawn to him from the start. He was so beautiful. I know a man isn't suppose to be beautiful, but there's simply no other word that describes him. Tall, dark and handsome. The first thing I noticed was his smile, then his voice. When he smiled it happened slowly, spreading from his lips to his eyes (oh those dark deep dark eyes) filling his face, when he said "hello", shivers ran down my spine. That voice! So deep and sensual.
I don't know why he noticed me, I certainly wasn't the prettiest woman there, not the smartest, nothing special. Much later he told me, it was MY smile, and my eyes. He said I had the most beautiful blue eyes he'd ever seen. I've heard that all my life, but I never 'felt' it, until he said it.
We worked together for three days. The tension between us was almost palpable. Just standing next to him made me weak. The last night he was there, we all went out for drinks before his crew headed back home. We danced a couple of times. It was all I could do not to drag him into a dark corner. If I had only known then...

I wouldn't see him again for over a year. Yet he never left my mind. Was it love, or lust? What ever it was, it was unforgettable.

The Dance

Over the years I've often ask myself, when did it happen and how did I ever let it slip away? How could I have been so blind and so foolish? I wasn't a child. I should have known.
Instead I chose the role of martyr. Maybe it made me feel better about what I'd done. Maybe I was punishing myself. Maybe I didn't have enough faith in his love for me. Maybe I didn't believe someone as beautiful and wonderful, as him could love someone as simple as me. And there was the age thing. Me the older woman, him the younger man that touched me the way no man had ever done.
With him I was free. I could do anything, be anything, I believed I was beautiful, and special.
I'd been married for almost twenty years, but the first time he made love to me I understood what making love really meant. It was so much more than just sex. There was a passion, a fire, a joining of not just two bodies, but two hearts, minds, and souls. I'd heard people talk about soulmates, but I never knew what that was until that moment.
This is the story of that love. A story that can't be shared with anyone but strangers (and only a few trusted friends). Still it's a story I need to tell. To remind myself that it happend, that it wasn't a figment of my imagination. And maybe a warning to anyone who happens across this story that the role of martyr is a cold and lonely one. That no one will ever appreciate the sacrifice you make, enough to make it worth what you gave up. Marriages end. Children grow up. Life moves on. You can end up alone. Living an empty shell of a life.

It would be over a year before he came back into my life. I remember it like it was yesterday. I looked up and there he stood, smiling at me, with that twinkle in his eyes. He winked and said, "Guess who's back". A feeling of shock coursed through my body. Shock and excitement. What was he doing here? Why did I feel like something amazing was about to happen? Who was this giddy, schoolgirl who'd taken over my body?

The Dance had begun...
Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared 'neath the stars alone
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known that you'd ever say goodbye

And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance

Holding you I held everything
For a moment wasn't I a king
But if I'd only known how the king would fall
Hey who's to say you know I might have changed it all

And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance

Yes my life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain but I'd of had to miss the dance

Breathless

Smiling at me he said, "Did you really think I'd stay away forever?" My heart was beating so hard I could hardly speak.
There I sat, a grown woman, feeling for all the world like a teenager in the presence of her 'crush'. Swallowing hard, I ask, "What are you doing here?" He walked in, sat down and said, "I work here." With what had to be a look of pure disbelief, and a trembling voice, I ask, "Work here? Since when?" "Since today," he answered. "I'm your new boss." I'm sure he had to think I was some kind of blubbering idiot, because once again I ask "Since when". Laughing he answered me with a question (I hate it when people do that), "What? You don't want to work for me?" It was then I realized he was having a good time, at MY expense.
I needed a drink, bad, and I don't mean a drink of water. A shot of bourbon would have fit the bill, had I had any around, and had I been able to stand up long enough to get it. I knew I was in big trouble. This man had me in knots, excited in ways I had never been and he was about to become my boss. I was suppose to work for him? With him? Day in day out? This was never going to work. Did he feel the same way? Why was he sitting there smiling at me like the cat that had the mouse cornered? He sat there just smiling at me, killing me slowly with the look in his eyes. Suddenly the intercom blasted out his name, "Chris, you have a call on line two". He stood up, started to walk out of the room, then he turned around, closing the distance between us , he leaned across the desk and touched my cheek, again he winked at me and said "We're going to have SO much fun."
Even now I can barely describe the feelings that coursed through my body in that moment. Excitement, anticipation, sexual arousal, and a sense of impending doom all at the same time.
He left me breathless. Wanting more, feeling wild and reckless, not knowing what was in store, crazy, nothing could save me, I was falling. Hard and fast.

THis Kiss!

I've heard it said, women are a mystery that men just can't understand. That may be true of some men. Not Chris. He understood me from the day we met. Somehow he knew. He knew what I was thinking. He knew what I wanted. Long before I did. He knew how much I needed to be loved. He knew how to make me feel like the only woman alive. And oh dear God, how alive he made me feel.
In his presence I forgot who I was. Reality slipped away.
How no one saw what was happening between us, I'll never know. Everything about me changed. My hair, my clothes, the way I walked. The way I talked. The way I laughed. I was so sure I was transparent. As I look back I realize, if the man I was actually married to, had been paying attention he would have known. If he'd loved me, he'd have seen the changes in me. Had he looked he would have seen a woman falling in love. He was too caught up in his own little games. His loss.
Things moved slowly. Chris was patient. He knew I couldn't be rushed. He knew this was something special. Something worth waiting for. I was helpless. I couldn't have fought what was happening if I'd wanted to. But I didn't. I didn't want to fight it. There was an emptiness in me that needed to be filled, and I so very much wanted to fill it.
Day after day we worked, side by side. Bit by bit, he wore me down. Not by being pushy or overtly sexual, but by being gentle, kind, sweet, and loving. He'd come and sit in my office while I worked. Sometimes he'd just sit there and watch me while I talked with customers on the phone. Sometimes we'd just sit and talk. He'd tell me about riding his bike (he had a Harley). He'd say things like "I'd love to see the wind blowing through your hair...". He'd tell me about his dates. Always making a point of telling me they ended with a quick kiss at the door. His choice. He was waiting for that someone special.
This dance went on for several months. Then came the night of his birthday. It was decided we'd take him out to dinner. There were five of us. We went to a little place not far from where we worked. After dinner, someone suggested we go out for drinks. We went to a place called The Green River Bar & Grill, just outside of town. We laughed, we talked. Then the band began to play, without a word, he took my hand and led me out onto the dance floor. He took me in his arms and we began to dance. Slowly he pulled me against him. Leaning down he whispered, "Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?" "Do you know how crazy I am about you?" I pulled away from him, and walked off the floor. Shaking and trembling, I knew I had to get out of there. I grabbed my things and headed for my car. He caught up with me just as I reached down to open my car door. He took me by the arm, turned me around, pulled me up to him and kissed me.
A kiss like I'd never known. Soft, and light but filled with passion. I could feel his heart beating. I could feel his hands on my back. I could feel my world spinning out of control.

Crossing Over The Boarderline

It was the kiss that rocked my world. In that moment everything changed. The stars were shining brighter than I'd ever seen them. There were so many. His lips tasted like bourbon and cinnamon. I couldn't tell if it was my heart or his pounding against my chest.
He reached up and touched my cheek. Looking down at me he said, "You can't keep running away from this". I tried to step back, he wouldn't let me, so we ended with me leaning against the car and him leaning against me. That might sound uncomfortable, but believe me it wasn't. It was heavenly. To feel him so close. To smell him, taste him. It was everything you can imagine.
"This is wrong, so very wrong," I whispered.
"Nothing that feels this right can be that wrong" he answered softly.
Then he kissed me again. Dear God in heaven I was lost. Hopelessly lost in the feelings that enveloped me. I wanted nothing more than to stay right there in that place forever.
Ahhh but time does not stand still.
"Come home with me," he said.
"No, I can't,"
"Yes, you can,"
"No, I can't,"
"YES, you can." "Just get in the car and follow me. I promise nothing will happen that you don't want to happen."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
His laugh filled the night. "Woman you're driving me crazy,"
"Come on, we'll just talk, I promise"
But I knew better. I knew if I let myself be alone with this man, talking would be the last thing we'd do.
He gave me that look and said, "Please"
Swallowing hard, I made the decision that would change my life.
"Okay"

As I followed him back to his house, my heart and my mind were at war. My mind was telling me this was wrong. How many times had I been cheated on? I knew how much it hurt. I knew what betrayal was and the pain it inflicts. I knew this was crazy. He's so much younger than me. I'm married, I have children. I have responsibilities. He's my boss.
My heart was saying, 'who cares'? You deserve this. You've been lied to, cheated on, ignored, emotionally abused, it's time to reach out for happiness. Even if isn't forever.
Somewhere along the highway, something inside of me let go. I was tired of fighting. Whatever happened, I didn't just need this, I wanted it. With all my heart, body and soul.
I pulled into his driveway behind him. We got out of our cars, he walked over, put his arms around me. Trembling and scared I waited as he unlocked the door. With a kiss he pulled me inside. My assent into love began.

Unforgettable

I married young. Too young.
I never had a chance to really fall in love. I loved the man I married. I believe in his own way he loved me. We were just never in love.
He cheated on me for the first time within a year of our marriage. Over the years he'd continue to cheat. The first time, I thought I'd die. I was so hurt, so humiliated. I was too young to understand it wasn't my fault. I thought I wasn't pretty enough, or smart enough. Whatever made him turn to other women, it was something lacking in me.
Some people turn to drugs or alcohol for comfort I turned to food. I had children to care for. I couldn't do that drunk or stoned. Food became my solace. The more he cheated, the more I ate. The more I ate the more I hated myself and the way I looked. But now at least I had something to blame everything on. My weight. It became my crutch. I could blame everything on my weight.
Then came the time when all my children were in school and I had nothing to do with myself for all those hours of the day. More out of desperation than need, I went back to work. Over time I began to care about how I looked. I was tired of being 'fat'. Slowly, and with lots of hard work I began to find the old me, buried beneath all that pain and disappointment. The old, but improved, me began to emerge.
It was during this transition that Chris came into my life. I'd thought of myself as dowdy and homely for so long it was impossible for me to see the woman he saw. It still is.
I can tell you this. That night as we stood in his kitchen he made me feel the way no man ever had. The way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me. The tenderness in his touch. The way he moved slowly, not rushing me. Letting me find my way into what was happening. If ever there was a perfect lover. He was there with me that night. All these years later I can still recall that night with perfect clarity.
I think we were both a little afraid. We both knew we were moving toward something that would change our lives. We didn't know what the consequences would be, but we knew it simply didn't matter. Whatever they were we'd face them, together. At least we thought we would.
We walked into the house, he took my hand and led me into the living room. The house was dark, except for one small lamp. Sitting down on the chair, he pulled me onto his lap. He pulled my face down to his and kissed me. I reached up and touched his cheek. He pulled me closer to him, I rested my head against his shoulder, breathing in the scent of him. We sat there like that for a few minutes. Just holding each other. I raised my head and looked at him, he smiled, and said, "Are you alright?"
For the life of me I couldn't' find my voice, so I just nodded. My body and mind were a whirlpool of emotions. Fear, excitement, anticipation, passion, desire, need. Strangely enough , no guilt. That would come later.
He looked at me, with those beautiful deep brown eyes and said, "Do you have any idea how much I want to make love to you?"
I know, I should have said something clever, or witty, or at least romantic. Instead I said, "Are you sure?"
"More than I've ever been sure of anything in my life" he replied.
Reaching up I pulled his face down to mine, I kissed him. Running my fingers through his hair, I looked at him and said "Show me the way"
He took me by the hand and led me down the hallway to his bedroom.
He turned the light in the hallway on, but left the one in the bedroom off. He told me later he did that because he wanted to see me, but he wanted me to be comfortable.
He sat down on the bed and pulled me up close to him. Touching my face, he said, "I want you to know, this is not about sex. I love you. I have for a long time. We don't have to do this. I want you, so very much, but I want you to be ready and to want me too."
Any doubts I'd had left my mind.
Never have two people ever been closer. Never has anyone loved me that way.
I may have been older, but he taught me that night.
It was simply unforgettable.

What's Love Got to Do With It

I spent most of my life wondering "what's the big deal" when it came to sex. Or love for that matter. My first sexual encounter was much of a blur. I was drunk, and stoned. I have no memory of what or how it happened. In fact I wasn't even sure "IT" had happened. Three months later I became painfully aware, not only had "IT" happened, but I was going to have lifetime reminder of a night I'd hoped I could forget. I briefly considered all my options and came to the realization there was really only one. I had to grow up. FAST.
It would be over two years before I'd have sex again. The second time was no more memorable than the first. I was neither drunk or stoned, but I should have been. People will tell you lighting doesn't strike twice in the same place. They're wrong. It will and it does. Second time around same result. Thank God, it was with the same guy. Needless to say, when it came to "ME" sex equaled babies. I strongly considered giving it up. At the age of 20 I had two children, a husband and no idea what the big deal was about sex or love. I'd never experienced either.
It would be many years before I finally understood what "IT" was really all about.
If you've never been in love, you simply can't comprehend the feeling. Sex is sex. Even bad sex can be good. But when someone makes love to you, it's a feeling beyond comparison.
I wish I could tell you how it felt. I just don't know how to translate those feelings into words. The feel of his lips on my skin. How his touch seem to set off little explosions all over (and in) my body. How I trembled with every kiss, every caress. How just looking into his eyes made me yearn for more. The world outside that room ceased to exist. We were the only two people alive. And oh how alive we were. Over and over.
It was the kind of night poets write poems about, writers write stories about, singers sing songs. Our two worlds collided, sending us spiraling out of control. Into heights of passion, straight into the arms of love.
I've re-lived that night over and over in my mind hundreds of times. I'd take it out like an old love letter, yellowed, torn and tattered from being read and re-read so many times. The memory of every kiss, every look, every touch, summoned up for comfort. For re-assurance that for that one moment I was the center of someone's universe. And he mine.
That night was the beginning. Naive and foolish I thought it would be just that one night. Then like sensible adults we'd go back to our everyday humdrum lives and it would be just a lovely little memory.
I had no idea the hold this man would have on me. The effect he'd have on my life. I didn't know he'd haunt my dreams. That even when awake he'd be all I could think of. Nor what lengths I'd be willing to go to just to spend a few stolen moments in his arms.
Neither did I understand how much I had come to mean to him. I didn't realize that he'd fallen in love with me. I couldn't understand how someone like him could possibly be in love with someone like me. I still don't. I don't know what was he saw when he looked at me. I wish I could see myself through his eyes. Because the woman he told me he saw, is someone I think I'd really like to know. I've come to the conclusion it has to be love.
There are many reasons why I fell in love with him. There's his smile. The way it reaches all the way to his eyes. Eyes that have this twinkle in them. Those dark brown eyes that remind me of Hershey's kisses. And there's, the way he looks at me, with that deep soulful look. Then there's his hair. It's dark, and when he lets it grow, it gets curly. When it's wet little curls form and dangle so enticingly around his ears. I feel this almost irresistible urge to reach up and run my fingers through his hair. I won't even go into his body. That hard, yet soft chest, with just the right amount of warm fuzzy hair. Or those legs, and that butt. Just being in the same room with him is an exercise in self-control.
Yet, it's so much more than just the physical. He has this wicked sense of humor. He's one of those men who loves women. All women. All sizes, shapes, colors, ages. He can relate to any woman, and they to him. He's manly without being macho. He's strong without being overpowering. He knows how to listen. I mean really listen. When your talking to him, you get the feeling he's actually listening and, that he really cares about what your saying. I've never met a woman who didn't get that 'look' when around him. He captivates your senses.
Oddly enough, men seem to like him as well. I guess you could say he's a man's man and every woman's fantasy.
So, you can understand when I wonder, what was he doing loving someone like me? I'm so ordinary. It's like Prince Charming with the scullery maid.
The one thing I know for certain, is when I was with him, plain ole "me" became Cinderella.
That night we began what would be the most wonderful and amazing six months of my life. That night I discovered love in the most unlikeliest of places. I finally understood what love had to do with "IT".
At that moment we were blissfully unaware of the heartache that would come when it ended. Or that I would be the one to break both our hearts.

The Morning After
.
I've been told older men are better lovers. "They say, while young men have stamina, older men know how to please a woman in ways young men have yet to understand. I've also been told there are exceptions to every rule. If the former is true, I can vouch, so is the ladder.
I could talk for hours about what happened in that bedroom that night. But I won't. There are somethings that should remain between a woman and a man. Let it suffice to say, more than one FIRST was discovered. Rapturous, euphoric, ecstasy. So much more than simple orgasmic bliss, it was almost, well, spiritual. When sleep finally came, it was the most contented night of sleep in my life. For once reality was sweeter than the dreams that followed.
When I awoke the next morning I was in bed, alone. At first I thought it had all been a dream. Then slowly, I realized I was in a strange bed, in an unfamiliar room. I could hear music wafting through the house. Some kind of jazz. Soft and sexy. I sat up in bed, leaning back against the pillows. From that position I could see down the hallway.
Memories of the night before filled my mind. Leaning back, smiling, looking and feeling much like a well satisfied, chesire cat.
Glancing up I could see him coming down the hall. Clad in his boxers, carrying a tray, he was the most beautiful man alive. Certainly the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. Sitting the tray down, he climbed on the bed beside me. Pulling me close to him he kissed me.
"Good morning," he murmured, "Did you sleep well?"
"Mmmm, yes, I did," I answered softly, "Did you"
Reaching up to touch my face he answered "Like I was in a dream"
We sat like that for a few minutes, just kissing and holding each other. Then he pulled back and said, "I made us some breakfast"
Breakfast in bed? Me?
I thought I'd surely died and gone to heaven. Except I'm pretty sure they wouldn't allow this in heaven. Especially not what we had for dessert. Yes, you can have dessert with breakfast.

We'd almost drifted back to sleep when the phone ringing jarred us both back to reality. Reaching across me he answered, he stopped, looked at me and whispered, "It's Dana, are you here?" Smiling, I took the phone from his hand and said "Hello" to my friend, and co-worker.
She laughed, and said "How did I know this is where you'd be?"
"Oh gee, I can't imagine," I giggle (yeah, I tend to do that when I'm nervous).
"So." she asked "Will we be going shopping today or not?"
"Would you mind terribly if we didn't?" I asked.
"Of course not," she replied, adding, "Go have a fun day, you deserve it. I've got you covered."
We said our goodbyes and I hung up.
"You're not leaving are you," he ask
"No, I'm yours, all day long," I answered
"MMMM he," he said, "Now that's my kind of day."

Later, we got up, got dressed and drove down to the beach. We had lunch, went to the amusement park, rode crazy rides, laughed, danced, and had the most wonderful day. We even went to the mall. After all a woman who's been shopping doesn't go home empty handed. I was learning the fine art of surreptitiousness. My double life had began.
It was the best of times.


To the world I was a (soon to be middle-aged) married woman, and mother.
But in those moments that I could steal away, I was a woman in love.
People who hadn't seen me in a while would stop by, they'd ask, "Have you changed your hair?" "Have you lost weight?"
"Something about you is different." they'd say
I'd just smile.

It was bliss, it was hell. Whatever it was, it was worth every minute.
No matter the price, I'd do it all over again.
I only wonder, would he?

A Man With A Slow Hand

It's interesting what stands out in our memory about a certain time, place or person. Of all the things I remember most about our time together, one of the things that still turns me on are his hands.
A man's hands, and how he uses them, can say so much about him.
Chris has beautiful hands. They're always clean, well manicured, and soft. Soft but strong. He has a firm grip, but he knows when and how to be gentle.
I love watching him do even the most mundane of things, like writing, or holding a cup of coffee. (He has this way of absentmindedly stroking the cup when he's not drinking). I loved the way his hands felt on my skin. It was like little fireworks exploding, everywhere he touched me.
I ask him once how did he know just what to do, where and how to touch me, in ways that would take me to heights of passion and give me such feelings of love and comfort. He said he didn't know, it just came naturally to him. He said he let his heart lead his hands. How amazing is that?
I want to tell you a little about this man who stole my heart. And whom after all these years still has it.
He's six feet tall. Even. No inches over or under. That's barefoot, mind you. He has dark brown hair. When he lets it grow it gets curly, and falls in little ringlets around his ears and in the back. Even short, it's curly when wet. I love that. He has dark brown (I call them chocolaty) eyes. Eyes that can look deep into your soul and see what your thinking. They have this permanent twinkle about them. It's like he's constantly amused by something in the back of his mind. He's of average weight, not skinny but certainly not fat. He has just the right amount of hair on his chest, arms and legs. None on his back (thank God). He works out three or four times a week, so he has a very nice body. Being of Italian descent, his skin has a natural tan to it. His nose and lips are perfect. He was voted Most Handsome/Best Looking in both high school and college. Also most likely to succeed. During the time that I was with him he was chosen as one of *histown's* most eligible bachelors. His picture was featured in their monthly magazine. He got a good laugh about that. He said they had no idea he wasn't 'available'.
The woman he eventually married met him when she interviewed him for the local T V station. She's the the same age I am, and also has four children. Amazing similarity wouldn't you say?
That's where the similarity ends. She's tall, blond (very blond as in platinum), bold, independent, and quite sophisticated. I'm of average height (5'4") light brown hair, shy, and fairly quiet. At least until you get my dander up. I tend to be more 'curvy' than thin. I've had thin moments. They passed quickly.
She's also very ambitious and very goal oriented. I am more of a go with the flow kinda lady. More of a team player than a leader. She's a very "social" kind of lady, I'm more of a homebody. She likes her nights out on the town, I'm more of a cuddle-up with a good movie kind of woman. I love being a woman, a wife and a mother. For me, my greatest accomplishments are my children. Nothing I ever do or have done can compare to the joy I found in raising my children and seeing them become the wonderful people they are now.
When I love, I love completely. When I'm hurt, I find it hard to forgive. Even when I do forgive I find it difficult to forget.
Chris said the first thing he noticed about me, were my eyes, and my smile. He said I didn't smile nearly enough. That I had this look of sadness about me, but when I did smile it would light up the room. I think he tends to exaggerate a wee bit. He also says I have a wicked sense of humor. I think he's right about that. I think he has one as well. That's one of the many things we have in common, and let me tell you it led to some very interesting and fun times.

Living In The Moment

"Well the world just lost two lonely people
The world just lost two broken hearts
The odds are against us but baby here we are
In our own little place in our own little corner
This old cold world just got a little warmer"

I wonder, when the man who wrote that song, if he had any idea how aptly it would describe the life of two people for a short time?

Living in the moment, is exactly what we were doing. Taking what moments we could steal away and making the most of them. I can't explain how it felt to finally feel so loved. To feel so wanted. I lived for those moments. In his arms, the world and all it's troubles disappeared. I could forget the hurt, the loneliness I'd lived with for so long. When I saw myself through his eyes I finally saw the woman I could be. I've often wondered what my life would have been like had I met him sooner. Or if I'd made a different choice. But, we can't change the past. We can only live each day to the best of our ability.
I know what we were doing was wrong. Saying he (Robert) did it first, doesn't make it right. It served to assuage my guilt. It made it easier for me to tell myself what I was doing wasn't so bad. Still it was cheating. Not only on my husband but on my family and on my marriage vows. Vows, I'd always honored. Until Chris. I knew it was wrong, yet I was helpless to stop. For the first time in my life I followed my heart. I let it lead me. I know I should be ashamed. But I'm not. I loved him.
I don't regret for one moment the hours we spent together. Even though in the end it almost destroyed me. Believe me when I say, I paid dearly for every minute of happiness we had. We both did. Never for one minute did we take lightly what we were doing. We both knew we were living a dream. One that sooner or later we would awaken from. Somehow I don't think either of us realized how hard it would be when the cold gray of dawn arrived. We were too busy, too wrapped up living in the moment.
Like the weekend we spent on Dolphin Island...

The Way We Were

Dauphin Island, is a barrier island located about 30 miles from Mobile, AL. It's 17 miles of white sand beaches with some of the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen, and is surrounded by Mobile Bay, the Gulf of Mexico and the Mississippi Sound.
Half the fun of vacationing on Dauphin Island is getting there. You can reach the island by bridge or by ferry. I prefer the ferry. It's such a beautiful trip over from the mainland. Especially at sunset.
The island isn't really a tourist attraction. There is a Sea Lab on the eastern end of the island, and of course the scenery is breathtaking, but most visitors to the coast aren't looking for the kind of peace and serenity you'll find on Dauphin Island. Of course there are hotels/motels, but the best places are the few small bed and breakfast, where the owners take you in and make you one of their own.
The best thing about it is, that even during the height of the season you can spend a weekend out on the island, taking long walks on the beach, and never run into another soul. Which makes it the perfect place for a quiet getaway.
My first visit came in late May of 1995. It was my first full weekend off in over a month. Everyone in the family had plans, except me. I'd toyed with the idea of taking a trip to Pensacola for a day of shopping and maybe take in a movie. There's a huge multi-county/state flea market in Milton on Sunday's so I thought I'd stop by there on my way home. My friend Dana was going with me.
You know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men. For reasons I won't go into Dana wasn't able to go. I wasn't crazy about the idea of going alone, but I wasn't about to spend my free weekend moping around the house either. So, I packed my suitcase and headed out for points south. I planned on leaving right after work on Friday night.
Imagine my surprise (NOT) when my boss informed me he TOO was heading south and would very much enjoy MY company. His destination was this pretty little island, and he was hoping I would join him on his excursion. After about five minutes of guilt, I said "YES!".
Seriously, who turns down a weekend with a handsome man, on a small, quiet, decidedly romantic island? Especially when that man is someone, one is desperately in love with?
Being with the boss has it's advantages. When he left at noon, he gave me permission to leave after two. You can bet your last dollar, I did just that.
We drove down in his car. Arriving at the dock just as the sun began setting across the water. The trip over on the ferry was simply amazing. We stood out on the deck and watched the sun slide gently into the water. It doesn't get much better than that.
The little B&B where we stayed had only two bedrooms and one of them was taken already. No matter. One room would do just fine. After all it wasn't like it would be the 'first' time we'd shared a room. That first night we had dinner at a little cafe on the beach then walked back to our 'house'. Just walking, talking, and maybe a little dreaming.
The next day our hostess packed us a picnic lunch and we set out on a 'walkabout' of the island. The white sand beaches were so beautiful. I've never seen so much driftwood. We stumbled across a lovely secluded little cove, spread out our blanket and had lunch. We spent much of the afternoon there. Talking,swimming, sunbathing and well, other things. Most of all we laughed. It was so good just to laugh. We played with the frisbee. He said I was 'almost' as good as Moses. Moses being his dog. I took that as a high compliment. I knew I was way ahead of Moses in other catagories. No jealousy there.
That night we had dinner at this lovely little bistro. The tables were all lit by candlelight. Soft music playing (I'm pretty sure it was KennyG). After dinner we sat out on the dock, holding hands, simply enjoying being together. Having talked all day, we were all talked out. The quiet spoke volumes. You know, you say it best when you say nothing at all.
When I awoke to the rising sun the next morning it was with a mixed sense of joy and sadness. Our time together had been so wonderful, but I knew it was almost over. We knew we had to make the most of what time was left. We did.

We would have other weekends like this over the next few months (which should tell you a lot about how much attention my husband paid to what was going on in my life), each would be as sweet and beautiful as this one. There would even be a trip to the Smokey Mountains. We were two people in a world of our own. We must have looked so happy. Every where we went, people thought we were newlyweds. Old men would smile at us and give me little things, like sea shells, and little trinkets. Little mementos of our time together. I still have them, tucked away in their own special little box. Along with my heart.

If It Was A Heartache


As with all dreams, sooner or later you must awaken. Sooner or later life snatches you back into reality. For me that day came on a rainy, foggy, September morning. When I look back I realize, everything changed that day. In one moment I was faced with the hardest choice of my life.
It was inevitable that eventually Robert would realize something was going on. Not because he cared, but because I'd stopped. I'd stopped caring when he was late coming home from work. I'd stopped asking why only he had to work overtime. If there's one thing a serial cheater recognizes it's the signs of cheating. Had he been paying attention, he'd have noticed much sooner. He was too busy playing his own little games. By the time he finally took the time to notice his wife was no longer the nagging, clinging, woman he'd become accustomed to. I was head over heels in love with another man. Funny thing about men who cheat. They seldom actually want out of their marriages. It's a way of life with them. They enjoy the security and comfort of the little woman at home, and the excitement and titilation of a woman on the side. The idea that good ole faithful, dependable, me could actually play the game as well as he had all those years, stunned him. He should have known. I learned from the best.
The day started out like any other mundane Monday morning. Monday's were my day off, I'd gotten the kids off to school, the dogs fed, dishes in the dishwasher, and sat down to enjoy the peace that comes with having an empty house all to yourself. When you have four children this is a rare occurance. I was surprised to hear his truck pull in so early. Although he worked nights, and usually got off at 8 AM, he seldom got home before 10 or ll o'clock. Showing up a few minutes after 8 meant something was up. He came in, sat down at the table and said "we need to talk". I put down the paper, looked across the table, and realized I was looking at a man I'd never seen before. He looked shaken, uncertain of himself. Almost afraid (foolish thinking on my part). I thought for sure someone had died. I guess in a sense they had. He looked at me and asked, "Are you having an affair with Chris"? If he had shot me, I couldn't have been more shocked. The look on my face must have said it all. I've never been a good liar. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, I sure couldn't answer him.
His next words stunned me. "How could you?" he asked This coming from the man for whom cheating was as second nature as breathing. With the coldest eyes I've ever seen, he looked at me and calmly said, "I'll destroy you". "I will not give you a divorce, I will not let you go." "Our children will hate you." "Your family will hate you." "You end it, you end it today, or I will take everything you have away from you." With that he got up, walked out of the room, into the den, sat down turned on the TV and in a matter of minutes was asleep.
Dumbfounded I sat there, unable to move, or think. Barely able to breathe. I knew he meant everyword he said. He would stop at nothing to punish me. Not just for betraying him but for daring to embarrass him in front of his friends and family. His pride was all that mattered.
As the rain fell, the thunder rolled, I sat staggard by the choices that lay before me. In the end there was no choice. There was nothing I could do. At least in my mind. My children, my family, were my life. I could never loose them. Everything I was, everything I had was wrapped up in those four children. I knew when forced to choose, there was only one possible choice.
Tears fell from my face, splattering onto the table, into my coffee, wetting the newspaper. Part of me died right there in that moment.
Somehow I would have to find a way to tell the man who'd taken a risk, who'd given me his heart, who'd shown me more love than I'd ever known, somehow I'd have to find a way to tell him, it was over. Our one moment in time was over. My dissent into hell began.

"It's Over",


I suppose in the back of my mind I'd always known it wouldn't last. I'd always thought it would be Chris who ended it. He'd grow tired of me, find someone younger, prettier, sexier, smarter, and he'd move on. Sub-consciously I'd always accepted this thing we had wouldn't last forever. I never for one moment considered the possiblity that I would be the one who would say those heartbreaking words. "It's over."

That morning as I sat listening to the rain falling, I felt as if the heavens had opened up and the angels were crying with me. My grief and pain were so consuming, it took a conscious effort just to breathe. The breathd and range of my thoughts and emotions seemed endless. I must have sat there for hours, just trying to put my thoughts in order. Trying to take the next step. Finally I got up, went to my bedroom, lay down across my bed and wept. The gut wrenching sobs that poured forth from my body seemed to last forever. Eventually, exhausted, I slept. My world was falling apart. My heart was breaking. Knowing what lay before me was daunting. Where would I ever find the strength?
I moved through the rest of the day in a robot-like state. No one seemed to even notice. The kids came home from school, chores were done, dinner prepared, dishes washed, homework completed, baths and bed. Another day in the world of the average American family. As he left for work that night, Robert walked into the bedroom, "I meant every word I said," he taunted. "You end this and you end it now." With that he walked out. Leaving me staring at the ceiling. Drained and empty. I'd thought I couldn't cry any more. I was wrong.

I was sure I couldn't go on, but, like the song says, the world didn't stop for my broken heart. The sun rose, morning came, the daily routine ensued. After the kids left for school, I called work, told them I wouldn't be in. I was sick. No lie. I was sick in my soul. Then I called Chris. "I need to see you" was all I could say. "I'll wait here at the house for you." he replied. "Is everything okay?" "NO" I uttered, then I hung up.
Woodenly I dressed, and began the long drive to the house where I'd found love, and where I would now say the words that would break both our hearts. It was all I could do to see through my tears. I wanted the drive to take forever. To stave off the pain I knew I was about to cause.
Oh what a fool I'd been.

Goodbye...

When I pulled into his drive-way, Chris came out to my car, I'm sure one look at my face told him something was wrong. As I got out of my car he put his arms around me, I just fell into him. "Oh God, baby, what's wrong?" he asked. He picked me up and carried me in the house. Sitting down in our favorite chair he just held me. All I could do was cry.
Finally exhausted, I looked up at him and I knew, he knew. "Robert knows" was all I could say. He nodded his head, and pulled me closer. We sat like that for what seemed like hours. Trying desperately to hold on to the last few minutes of hope. I could feel our hearts beating. I never knew such heartache. The pain wasn't just emotional, it was physical. My body and soul were aching.
Knowing I couldn't put it off any longer, I got up, walked into the kitchen and took out the bottle of Johnnie Walker he kept there. I poured us both a drink, took them and walked back into the living room. He was just sitting there looking at me. We both knew what was coming, both hoping to find some way to delay the inevitable. I sat down on the coffee table in front of him, bowing my head to avoid seeing the look in his eyes.
He reached out took my face in his hands and said, "Just leave him." "Go home, pack your clothes and leave." His voice was almost pleading.
"What do I do with my children" I asked? "Bring them too" he answered, without hesitation. I had to smile at his naivete. He had no idea what such a move would involve. Nor what life with four children would be like. I could just see us all trying to live in his cute little two bedroom house. It wouldn't take long for the 'romance' of our relationship to fade into chaos. Bless his heart I knew he'd try, but I knew too, it would never work. What we had was ours. It was two people, there was no room for anyone else. Certainly not four children, two of whom were teenagers.
"Chris, baby, that would never work." "You know that." I said softly.
"Honey, please don't do this." "Please don't take away the only real love and happiness I've ever known" he pleaded.
I'm ashamed to say, for one brief moment, I actually considered, the possibility of leaving, and letting Robert keep the children. The moment was brief, and the thought was gone as quickly as it came. We both knew who had to come first. My children were not just my responsibility, they were my world. I loved Chris, but I worshiped my children.
We sat there for a few minutes, just staring off into space, then he took me by the hand and led me back to his bedroom. Pulling me down onto the bed beside him we lay there together, holding each other. We lay like that until the phone rang, someone from work calling to see if he was coming in. All he said was "No", then he hung up.
Slowly he pulled me closer and began to kiss me. Almost in a trance we began to make love. Both us knowing it was most likely the last time we'd ever be together. We treasured every kiss, every touch, every caress. I still remember those last hours. We spent the rest of the day, there in that little house, where we'd found so much happiness. Where we now were burying our hopes and dreams. It's the most bittersweet memory I posses.
As the sun set, I got up, dressed, and got ready to go. If you can imagine walking away from the only real love you've even known, then you can imagine my heartache. I knew he was young and he'd love again. I feared I never would.
I was right. I never have.

I knew what I had to do. The next day, I walked into his office and handed him my request for a transfer to another location. It was all I could do not to break down again. I could see in his eyes, he was desperately trying to control his own emotions. He simply nodded his head. After I left, he took the request to Kevin, the assistant manager, handing it to him he said "Take care of this for me" then he left. If there had been any doubt in the minds of the other employee's about our relationship, it ended that day. It was like someone had died. In a way they had.

In less than two weeks I was transferred to another store in a another town. Over the years we would see each other occasionally at company functions. We'd just smile and try to go our separate ways. He would marry and move on. I simply continued to exist. Which I have done for the past eleven years.
*********************

There are those who tell me, now that I've finally made up my mind to end my marriage, I should find him. Take a chance, see if there's still anything there. I can't. Only someone whoes been where I have can understand this. Loving and losing him came as close to destroying me as anything ever has. He's moved on. So have I. What we had is a beautiful memory. I want nothing to change that.
I will love again. I know this. I already feel my heart beginning to open up. I can feel the walls coming down, one day at a time. It will take a while to learn to trust again. I'll get there. I believe.
The coming year will be a long and difficult one. It is a journey I must make. My destination is unknown. Along the way I hope to learn to live, to love, and to be a woman again. Maybe, just maybe, be the woman I was for one brief moment in time.

If your here, you have a choice, you can read this judge me and go on your way. Or you can decide I'm someone worth knowing and come along with me on this journey. I've invited you here because I'm hoping you'll choose to come along. You may discover someone who will not only make you smile, but who will bring joy and a touch of happiness into your life.
I think everyone we meet has something to teach us. I'd like to find out what it is you have to share with me. Even if our time together is limited. In a sense that will make it all the sweeter, will it not?

The story here is true. No names have been changed. For the most part it happened just the way it's written. Very little has been altered. If you want to judge me feel free to do so. It is what it is. I make no apologies. I have paid dearly for my transgressions.
I need to tell this story. I need to cleanse my soul of the burden of guilt I've carried around for the past eleven years.
If your here reading this, it's because I trust you and I need for you to understand what has brought me to where I am today. Hopefully, in some small way you can learn from my mistakes.
The one thing I've learned is, we cannot change the past. It is what shapes us. The sum total of who we are. But, we cannot dwell there. We must face today, and look toward the future. Not only do I believe we can love more than once. I know it. The next time, I won't be a fool. When God brings love to my heart this time, I won't let go. I'll love him with all my heart.
As for me I've wasted all the time I'm going to being sad, regretful, and lonely. I believe it is our duty to take every moment God has given us and make the most of it. That's what I intend to do.
If you feel the need to express your thoughts to me you can contact me via email: dixiebelle1990@hotmail.com.

...one happy lady...

...two happy ladies...


...Chris