The Story of 2 : In the beginning.
The Story of 2: The beginning. How I ended up with my soul mate.
NOTE* I strongly recomend you read the first part of this story if you havent already.
Let’s face it divorce sucks. Anybody who has been through it knows and those who haven’t you are:
1) smarter and made better choices than I did. Kudos to YOU! Or,
2) have yet to experience it: I hope you don’t and I hope it’s not as messy as my experience was.
So, in a seperation there’s this phase where you are trying to move on. You divided stuff up. You don’t share anything but kids and vital info about the kids. In this phase it is like, both of you are “dating” or trying to or at least considering it. Maybe one of you is dating and the other still isn’t ready to. That’s where I was at this particular time. I had been divorced in my mind for years like ten years at this point. It was only finalized for a couple months and I was ready to move on. Not necessarily into another romantic relationship but someone to share experiences with, swap stories or have similar interests to do things with you. I needed some of my own friends! So, there I was trying to make friends on Tinder (yes! I was naïve) and actively meeting people – especially men anywhere and everywhere I went. I met men at the laundromat, grocery store, local festivals and parking lots. I was friendly and cute, what can I say. I went to business mixers with a girlfriend just to get out and she always made at least a few connections due to my gregarious persona. As a specialist in experiential marketing I had no trouble starting conversations, but I kept in mind “My List”. What was my list? My list was qualities I was looking for in a potential partner. And it went something like this:
1) Employed
2) good credit
3) entrepreneurial type
4) college educated or years in that field – not someone who job hops, not factory.
5) had to work out
6) eat right
7) had to have good teeth
8) NOT OVERWEIGHT
9) NOT covered in tattoos
10) similar age and interests
11) Nonsmoker –this was a deal breaker! Now most of that sounds reasonable right? Well, this entire story will explain how all that was completely wrong – FOR ME.
So from the get go – for those who don’t know – kids tell stories. My ex was getting stories of me bringing men home. Now let me put this in perspective: I’m moving on and he isn’t. So, there’s problem #1.
After about a month of spending time with a guy and he had passed all the initial inquiries, I had introduced him to my sons: now ten and twelve. I wanted to see if/how they would interact. I assumed there would be a time I would go through the same from HIS side. Logical right?
So back to my ex: of course, I was a whore in his eyes, nothing more than a wallop, tramp, slut, cunt. (Insert any derogatory female term).Well me being me I didn’t even bother to argue with him anymore. My response was this “I’m looking for one man: the right man for me.” So yes, I had my share of potential partners. I had one guy on the side who was just there for sex. This is an arrangement we both agreed on in the beginning. He was married but they were separating. We confided in each other the difficulties of marriage and dating. He did favors for me and I did for him - it was never anything more. You could say it was a friendship with benefits until when he did divorce the crazy wife ( yes literally certifiably crazy) or I found “the one for me.”
So as time goes by, the ex decides to move back in – to “help with the boys” so I could work fulltime plus as a caregiver. I saw this as ok – I just spent even more time away from home. What it really was:
1) a move to further control me.
2) He hated living at home with Mommy. So anytime anyone called me he accused me of planning to whore around. If someone texted me, it was fifty QUESTIONS or zero questions and the cold shoulder. He kept accusing me – and at this point from his perspective I can’t disagree. I was looking for love in all the wrong places, searching their faces… (Kenny Rogers song) looking for traces for what I’m dreaming of. Now let’s remember: I was ready to move on because it was clear after twenty-two years he did not suit my needs. Now let me be quite clear here: I had put in plain English, using small words and plain language EXACTLY what I needed and demanded over the years and it was HIS attention and time.
I can’t tell you how many nights I fell asleep on his lap while he played video games because that was all he was willing to give me. Remember the first time we discussed divorce and he offered me nothing? Yeah, half of nothing is STILL NOTHING and that’s how much he valued me: less than nothing. I learned to see my value even if he didn’t. My kids were healthy, decent kids, ok in school. I was the best mom I could be considering how my parents raised me: that’s another story. I was a brilliant creator. I made anything I wanted: clothes, jewelry, wall art, floral art, stained glass, home construction… whatever. I knew I had skills. It was about this time 2016 that I came up with my concept of EyeCandy.
I was working a lot of hours and that gave me lots of time to think. My job as a caregiver was easy: just be there. Lots of times patients were bedridden and dying so I got paid to hold their hand: literally, as they died. So, while I’m thinking, walking, reading and learning I’m also growing, although I didn’t see it at the time and the men in my life didn’t see it either. I was so active that I began having too much pain from a bunion on my foot. When it got to the point old people walked more than I did I considered surgery. Now let me explain the pain: this is like a toothache in a toe joint. You can’t rub it away, soak it out or take pills to even dull the pain. Once you over did it you already over done it. It was a delayed pain that was dependent on how much I used (bended) that foot in walking. It’s about this time I was spending LOTS of time on roller skates. I preferred quad skates that had four wheels. I found my foot did not flex, so no foot pain.
I scheduled surgery after suffering two cortisone injections in six months. I don’t recommend and doctors don’t recommend as a continued treatment. Then I found out I had to meet some criteria for surgery 1) someone drop me off or find a way to pick up my car later and 2) someone to pick me up. Now remember I’m still trying to date with this going on. I had my shady sex guy and maybe two more that I had spent time with and not yet completely discounted but had a few red flags. But then there was this one guy I met on Craigslist. Ad read “Are you out there?” And my initial thought was “what’s the worst that could happen?” Yeah, Craigslist killer was actively on the prowl at this time! For those of you younger people back in the day Craigslist had a place to put personal ads to date or advertise for straight out sex. This ad was in personals and seemed innocent enough so I answered. I sent a pic. He sent a pic. My first thought was “at least he’s not fat.” Now as shallow as that may seem I was actually aware you are 85% of what you are around. Some of you may not know that. Yes! your environment and those people in your immediate environment have a huge impact on you whether or not you are aware. (That’s the pearl of wisdom I’d like to share). While you are a product of your environment you also have the ability to change that environment from the color on the wall to the people you share your life with. You absolutely are responsible for you and your choices as an adult. Who do you want to be? Now surround yourself with those type of people.
Remember in the beginning I read off a list of “qualifications” for potential partners? Right? OK – so this guy from Craigslist didn’t seem to fit any of those qualities. It was clear he had multiple large tattoos, didn’t make his bed, didn’t work out, was 15 years younger than me (but I didn’t know that yet!) and had two small boys ages three and five and was still technically married and a smoker. I say “technically” because while he was living alone the divorce was not final. Huge red flag for any dating material. This guy: Denny was not potential partner material but we did text and actually met in person by now. So, I found someone to drop me off at least for the surgery. Now to find someone, ANYONE to pick me up. Keep in mind my ex is “living” with me. He has his own room type living with me. Now I don’t recall if I ever did ask him, but I do recall very sheepishly telling Denny: the one guy that wasn’t dating material but I found he was dependable enough to check on my property – feed my dogs if I was late coming home from work kind of dependable. So as an absolute last resort I asked him if he could pick me up from the hospital and bring me home. (Nothing more) So the next day we scheduled it. I had a ride in and a ride home.
The day came, and dutiful Denny stepped in to the hospital as soon as he got off work and made his way to me. Now I don’t know how many hoops he had to jump through to get to my room. I don’t remember much that day. You see I had told the anesthesiologist to give me half of what you give anyone else. He didn’t listen! There I am unable to walk, rudely awakened by smelling salts and told it was time for me to go home and that my ride was here. So there stands Denny in the doorway receiving all these instructions on how to care for me, how I may feel and what to feed me. I was too drugged to be embarrassed. So, they wheel me downstairs to the door and Denny goes to get his truck. His P.O.S truck. Remember one of my requirements was a good credit score, right?
This truck was rust from the doorknobs down and as loud as a room full of pissed off bumblebees stuck in a kazoo. But me being me in my drugged stupor I managed to climb up in the truck and get myself settled for the short jaunt home. I have to be honest and tell you I do not actually remember much. I do distinctively recall waking up and leaning on Denny’s shoulder as he sat on the edge of my bed. I was a bit shocked and embarrassed as I had drooled all over him. I sheepishly giggled and pretended to wipe it away as I sat up for a momentary glimpse of my surroundings and Denny had a movie on for me. He was so sweet, so patient, so kind and a perfect gentleman. Do you know he never sent me a dick pic? Never anything inappropriate. And even in my current condition never tried to kiss me. This man keeps impressing me.
He never once made an excuse he couldn’t do anything for me, he would tell me that he could but on his schedule or he would have to bring his boys. With time I came to depend on him. He bought me tools I needed to do things around the house: $80 rechargeable drill and just left it. There were a few small hand tools, but you get my point. So, doo doo doo… he took me to WalMart to get a refill on my prescription: AGAIN. It seems I was at WalMart daily. Dutiful Denny could always be counted on to do that. Sure, he did not get the glamorous side. No nice dinners out with a pretty girl in a pretty dress. No home cooked candle lit dinners from me. Nope I’m a medicated mess on crutches! What was supposed to be asix weeks healing period turned into twelve as things did not heal as they were supposed to.
So, there we are inside WalMart sitting on a bench waiting on the torrential down pour to stop and me being me just gabbing away about God knows what sitting on the bench. I could talk to Denny about anything, about nothing and everything and I did. And he listened. Did you hear me? HE LISTENED! He never had much to say but when he did, I listened.
So anyway, there we are sitting on the cold hard metal bench listening to the storm above when this little old lady approaches us and to my surprise, she says to me ‘‘Is everything ok Dear?” I’m pretty sure I had a dumbfounded look on my face at that specific moment. I looked over at Denny, who also had that same look and back at the woman and said “Yes, why do you ask?” And she looks over at Denny and then back at me with a sweet old lady smile and says ‘‘He just looks so concerned about you, I had to ask.” We all chuckled and I assured her everything was fine that we are just waiting on the rain to stop. I still can’t remember the topic of that conversation sitting there on that bench but that night my life changed. I finally woke up. My eyes finally saw what was right in front of me, and I had almost missed it.
I was so busy judging Denny for what he wasn’t I didn’t see what he was.
Remember the list? Ya – college educated, nice smile, good credit blah blah blah blah… Here stood a perfect gentleman who has shown me such kindness, compassion and unconditional love. Because let’s face it nobody is going to take care of an invalid for any other reason than pure love. And he had listened to me for hours about me trying to date other men and how that wasn’t working for me. he never once judged me.
Now back to the 1st story of 2: The End comes First: Remember I kept saying “I want one man, the right man for me.”
Well, friends and foes God provided once again and even sent an angel to point it out because I was so blind.
Denny has taught me so much! It takes more than just eyes to see. True seeing is the ability to comprehend complex abstract concepts that only come from experience and wisdom and has little to do with vision of the eyes.
You see the entire time I was spending time with Denny or trying to date another I had repeated the phrase, "I want one man, the right man for me". At that point I had not yet realized my full potential and power of visualization and manifesting. I did what felt right to me. So every time the ex would accuse me I would repeat that phrase in clarification that yes, I was seeking another. Any time he would mention in a personal jab that my job included socializing with men in bars, I would repeat that phrase. I know I thought about it several times a day and everyday for many weeks.
So time passed and Denny and I spent more time together doing the innocent stuff friends do. He took me to the park and we would sit and observe. we would watch birds and the trees wave in the wind. We would watch the water flow in fountains. We would watch spiders weave webs in plants. He would show me local attractions he had experienced. He would stop by and feed my dogs when I would ask him to. ( Yes this was weird because remember my ex still lived with me!) He would check my house to make sure I had locked the door. He showed me how to read a tire gauge. He baked me cookies. I made him cupcakes.
In short, this younger man was showing me love in ways I had never experienced. He spent time with me. He showed me things. I could learn from him because he was patient and answered my questions about things I didnt understand. He accepted me. He enjoyed my company.
The more time we spent together the more I wanted to spend with him and only him. Pretty soon there wasn't any time left to "date" anyone and no one interesed me any more.
So I accepted his tatoos, credit score and self taught education. I accepted he had been labeled as "emotionally handicapped" in school with ADHD. I accepted he had bad teeth and no college. I accepted he worked at a factory. I accepted his past and he accepted mine.
My credit wasnt much better, my teeth werent perfect and I have an awful tatoo. I cant drive at night and I cant see to find my glasses if I don't have them on. I misplace things constantly and he hates my cooking.
I discovered in time that he was actually quite educated but not from college. He was not stupid or slow, but learned and thought differently than what is considered normal. He has an amazing construction skill set and can fix almost anything including vehicles. He is a man of few words but many actions.
While I could go on for hours about how wonderful he is the point I'm trying to make is if you ever find yourself at the bottom of a pit I hope this true story will give you hope. I pray you find peace, love and happiness whatever that looks like for you.
At the time of this writing we have been together for 5 years now. I feel that beside him is my place, wherever that may be. So take a step back and learn to see with more than your eyes. There are powers you posses that you are yet unaware of. I thoroughly feel that I manifested my husband and he is the one man for me.
Read.
Learn!
Find your place and be blessed!