Did you really not think of me on New Years Eve?

“Now don’t blow smoke up my ass, say things you don’t mean…”

Dressed for him, eye makeup, hair, and lotion, selected my jeans, shoes, shirt. I was complimented at bar by guy on my shirt. Jeff complimented the jacket I chose previously, and the manicurist complimented my jeans.

It was all for him. What about him? Was I not attractive? Did I not succeed in looking good for him? Did he not think I looked pretty? Did he not appreciate me? Worse yet, does he think that I had dressed for someone else? Does he think that I do it for anyone else? Does he know it was all for him, and that it always is? Does he know that I look forward to seeing him and picking outfits to appeal to him and doing my makeup to please him?Does he know that all this makes me happy?

Dreaming of him… “you and I are…” he says, and I wake up. I know what we are. So strongly that I wake up and am here wide awake still.

You think I shouldn’t need to feel your touch

To know that you love me

I shouldn’t need to hear your words

To know that you care

I shouldn’t need your gifts

To feel special

I shouldn’t need your time

To know that it’s me

How is it that I should know?

I wonder

But still my madness is that I do

Without your touch I long for you

Without your words I need you

But without you I still believe

You love me.

I begin to wonder what it would be like if you were to reach out to me, to start the night anew, if it were to go differently, if you were to affirm me—not even us, but just me…

I open the door, and you step in to close the space between us and give me a big warm hug. Told me, wow—you look great! I love that… shirt, glow on your skin, your hair, your smile, your outfit. (Instead you didn’t compliment me, but denigrated yourself—commenting on your coat. It made me wishI had been faster to compliment you, because as usual you were stunning to me…but it was then too late to tell you.) What if you had brought something to the night to tell me about? Something that you wanted to share with me? The problem you might have solved, all the apartments you’d seen, what you did this weekend while I was busy, how you’re looking forward to your first weekend after working again. What if in the car you reached out to me? Offered me your hand, or your arm, or guided me by your hand on my back? What if when I showed my insecurity, you turned to me and hugged me tight, kissed my forehead and told me that I’m beautiful and you’re so happy that we were getting to spend time together? What if walking to the bar you had wrapped your arm around my shoulder walking with me side-by-side? What if you had laughed, smiled, caught eyes, asked questions, or interjected—in short, contributed to any of the stories I told? At the bar, what if it wasn’t every other man’s eyes, but yours that were on me? If you looked at me, instead of staring ahead or at the television? What if you reached out to me with little touches here and there as I do to you, a quick rub on the back, a touch on the knee, a moment resting your hand on my arm?

Things that told me that you love me, last night:

You smacked my ass playfully as we walked up the stairs.

You told me that you like my talking.

You took me to the Irish bar instead of just going home after giving up on La Puerta.

You walked me to my car door when we were going home.

Nip/Tuck had a quote about Julia—the only way she felt she could get your attention is through screaming or sex. That quote struck me so hard. Of course, I thought, I have always known that I desperately desire your attention, but it had not occurred to me that what happened to us was an unhealthy shift to my trying to obtain it by either screaming, or sex.

Last night when you got mean, which is what you do when you go on defense, you told me that what did I want, you to say things you don’t mean or blow smoke up my ass? I was hurt and retaliated. I spit at you that you just like to hang out on the cheating side of town. Could you ever been faithful to someone? You said with venom, yes. I of course heard what you wanted me to, yes you could, just not to me.

I am a failure that I do not inspire you to care for me. I long so desperately for your touch, your words. I learned that it was acts of service, which make you feel loved, and I began to look for ways to show my love in that manner. Making dinners for you, for us—shopping, cooking, and cleaning. All the offers to do things that you don’t let me do—wash your clothes when you were visiting, return your shirt, mail your phone. I asked for you to show me love in your language—would you repair the leg on my wine cabinet (you had even offered!), would you hang my mirror and my pictures? I appreciated when you hooked up the Wii for me.

Do you know that I hurt so much when you asked if I wanted you to say things you didn’t mean, to blow smoke up my ass, because I believe that there’s no way possible that you couldn’t have thought there was something you could have offered to me that night. 

Do you know that I feel madness in loving you because I feel you still, you there, just beneath this cold veneer, this shell, this surface?

I hang on to the tiniest things.  You will have to cut me off entirely to make me give up on you. I recall you telling me how you were pleased that I looked hot the night we went to the Mizzou game at the bar. You may have chosen to tell me as a stab when you were being mean, instead of just telling me upfront, but I remember it regardless. It has fueled my continued pleasure in dressing for you. You smacked my ass last night. It was spontaneous, and playful. It was reaching outside of yourself for something you wanted to do. It was touch. It means something to me. I imagine that you don’t go around smacking other people’s asses like that. I immediately thought of Christian, who I spent nearly all weekend avoiding being smacked by (and failed miserably) and just as immediately knew how I loved that you smacked mine. I would never avoid your smack—only playfully. It gave me the courage to ask for permission to kiss. I will hang on to that you like to hear me talk, that you want to date someone like me who does talk.

While I wish I could stay on the highs, I feel like maybe you’d understand me better—my madness—if I continue in train of thought… the point is to understand the oscillation between feeling love from you while there being no evidence that it’s true, and feeling rejected. As such, I’ll tell you that from those highs I’m reminded of the things you don’t do. I spoke to you once about the book I had been reading at the time—about bids. It meant the world to me when you referred to bids later in conversation with me. You were listening to me! Something I said had enough value that you would adopt the terminology! But here we are now, and I wonder why you don’t respond to any of my bids. I wonder if you even see how classically I am constantly begging for affirmation, reaching out, and instead being rejected. How you turn away, or turn against, but very rarely turn towards. Are you doing it on purpose? Last night I told you that I know that you are intelligent. I think that you are capable of being the cruelest man on the earth. It’s actually a compliment—I think that you are so very intelligent that you could ruin someone quietly while standing by their side as if loving them. I just don’t think that you could that to me, at least I won’t let you do so without awareness.

Then I think about New Years Day. I think about how I wonder how I could offer you more affirmation and love, and what your needs are. You give so little to me, that I have focused so much on what I desire and forget to offer in kind what I seek. As much as I don’t forget the little highs, the notes that remind me so securely that you love me despite your desire to deny it, I also don’t forget the moments the remind me that we are both people who have been incredibly hurt by life. New Years Day, you honor me by asking me to breakfast, while I was still in bed myself. Then you arrive mere moments later. I open the door, and you joke about worrying that you would have arrived to an awkward situation—me in bed with someone else, while you stand at the door.Oops! You “joked”. In that moment, I was saddened because I never believed that it was anything more than a thinly veiled confession of the fear truth. I took it that you honestly believed that I would have been in such a position. Later what saddened me was two-fold. One, not that you don’t know me well enough to know that I wouldn’t do that, and instead to you would believe that I would, but that you don’t know how much I love you and how much I live my life loving you, regardless of what you choose to do, or where and with whom you sleep with on New Years Eve. And secondly, that the joke was a joke about you. You weren’t actually insulting me, but showing your vulnerability. I want you to know thatI appreciate your showing up at my door, your inviting me to breakfast, your knocking once you arrived and had that moment of fear; I appreciate your taking the chance at having gotten hurt.

And that moves me to the breakfast where we leave and you want to show me Carlsbad… the drive up the coast, driving in Leroy with the topdown together. It’s another moment that I hang on to where I know that you love me.

I know that you love me because you don’t hide that you are with me to Randy. When he calls, instead of avoiding saying that with you’re with me (as little as I feel he values me) you affirm me by acknowledging my presence. I even feel like it’s with pride. Are you proud of me? Do I add value to your manliness? Am I the kind of girl that you’re proud to tell your buddies that she’s with me, and yeah, she wants to be?

I can’t appreciate how much it is that while Vanessa and my entire family may know many gory details of our relationship that require a stomach of steel to swallow, that you have not shared any of this with Heidi (or Gretchen). That you instead of recent told me that you present me as something desirable, as worthy of competition, as someone you love… that means the world to me.

The sun is coming up. I suppose I should try to get some sleep, and I think now that I might be able to.

I will send this letter as an email. I will probably wait until around 4ish or something… late enough that you possibly have time to read and digest it and perhaps that it alters the course of the evening, but not so early that it distracts you from your day, your focus at work.

You see, I believe in you. I believe that you are a beautiful and so incredibly strong man. I believe that you are a loving person, and that you are good. That is to say, that I believe that you cannot turn a deaf ear to my pleas, that your heart could be untouched by an appropriate expression of my love. We have gone so far off our path, but I don’t believe that it’s hopeless. More than anything else that you could desire in someone that you would share your life with, understand this—I believe in me. I believe in you. And I believe in us. Those are three unique and individual statements.

Believing in me is what is required for me to find my way back to wherever it is that I left my smile. You cannot save me.

Believing in you. That’s the most special thing I have in the world. Believing in you as I do is a unique experience that I have shared only with you, and you alone. Believing in you is so close to loving you. The first two days we shared together were the happiest of my life. But they were not love. I did not believe in you. I will never forget the moment I looked at you and I knew… the moment where I believed in you. I believed in you as a man, as a partner. I will never forget that moment, because that is also the moment where I knew that it was true, it was love, that I had fallen in love with you, and it was truly love. Those first two days, and the first week or so after you moved so swift and sure. I wasn’t there. The irony is that we changed places.Once I knew I was yours, I moved swift and sure, and you were uncertain. I then was the one to come on too strong.

Micheal, in this time of darkness in our life together, I wait for the day when you look at me and tell me that you have decided to love me. I keep hoping each time I see you that you have chosen to love me.

Our life will not exist without love. We are special. I don’t quite know how to express that I feel that we are so entwined. I’ll try…

Friendship is love. You love your friends. What you desire to share with me is a friendship. To be friends, you must love me. To love me, you must look at me and act lovingly in my best interest, as a friend would doin kind. To love me right now, I need affirmation and touch. I am a friend in need.

Tonight I realized that what I seek from you is completely okay, even in the context of just a friendship. If you were to go back and read what I’ve written again, you’ll see that. I am seeking support. To receive your support is to be loved. To be loved is to be restored. Love is the strength tor ecover.

The careful thing is, the disclaimer that you must know, is that if you were to act kindly to me; if you were to support me; if you were to love me; then we would fall in love again.

We are intertwined.

Being near you without your love destroys me. Likewise, to be loved by you is more than anything I’ve ever known in my life.

I want to find my sparkle, and restore my smile and the light in my eyes.

I am asking you for your help. I am asking if you can choose to love me, to be my friend.


Conscious streams of rambling…

From: Mike Tyler
Date: Wed, May 27, 2009 at 2:26 AM
Subject: Conscious streams of rambling…
To: Angela M. Baxley

I’m often up late, or early, I guess, depending on your perspective. 😉 I am pretty much the classic nightowl, and I feel much more energized at night. It can be painful for those who love me, I’m not going to lie. Or it can be REALLY great. 😉 I actually participated in a Delayed Sleep Phase study at UCSD to try to learn more…. more on that later, as your interest piques. 😉

I tend to overuse emoticons. I know this about myself. Please don’t get annoyed by this – like Skynet, I am self-aware. Are techy people such as yourself generally annoyed by excessive emoticoning? I just can’t help it…I like to think I’m expressive, but my tone is lost in email or text or IM form. Not in Twitter form though – you’d know my tone there. See I just typed that entire paragraph with no emoticons, and it was painful. 😉 😉 I’m sorry.

What happened to Book-n-Beach? Inquiring minds are….inquiring. 😉 (yay, tautology!)

I’m glad you enjoyed the picture of the unmade, Angie-less bed. You do not want to see the picture of the unmade, Angie-less Mike. It is not as cute. It’s nearly a mess.

Is that consulting gig in San Diego your Dream Job? Could it be? I’ve heard San Diego is a good city, but I have much more to explore. I’m currently looking for someone to do more exploring- I checked Craigslist, but their "Strictly Platonic" section seems like a ploy. Guess I’ll have to settle for a more romantically inclined exploring partner…

Not sure what I "just don’t know", but what I do know is that I’ve been positively plagued by thoughts and memories that threaten to turn my stomach inside out from all of the increased Lepidoptera activity. And by plagued, I mean constantly. And by positively, I mean it feels amazing.

(and oh yeah, I just did write that. "Lepidoptera". Let it roll off your tongue. 😉 )

I didn’t realize you weren’t going home until today. More LA fun?

If it makes you feel any better, I find Elvis very distracting too. Like I would want to work with such singable happy tunes around me! Ha!

A perfect picture? Glad you asked….imagining you trying to work, shifting your legs, noticing a slight bruisy soreness – and seeing a certain "goofy smile" creep across your face as memories flood back with attendant aching in their wakes. And not getting back to work until 11 minutes later. Thank you for the imagery…I think I can now get through the next 17 minutes.

I can’t tell you how many times I got "caught" today….staring off at the sand, the ocean, the empty-Angieless spaces, getting completely LOST in frantic mental reconstructions of the exact places our bodies meet when you perfectly nestle into what I used to think of "my space", but can now only think of as "ours". And then a sound, a change in breeze, an aroma, and I find my way back to the present….to see my friend’s incredibly amused face because she knows just where I was, just how long I was there, and just how submerged I was. And 3 new shades of blush ensue.

Living without your smile just will not do. It is life.


You drove away…

From: Mike Tyler
Date: Tue, May 26, 2009 at 3:18 AM
Subject: Re: You drove away…
To: Angela M. Baxley

Wow……so much to comment on. 🙂

a) Thank you for sharing the Stroke of Insight speech…wonderful stuff, and yes, I can completely see why you would think of that during the course of our conversations. I loved this “left hemi = serial vs right hemi = parallel” concept – I’d never heard that before, and it really makes so much sense to me because for the last few years, I’ve really become aware that I am an extremely poor multitasker. It’s been frustrating, and I never felt like it made any sense because I feel like I’m a reasonably organized, with-it kind of guy. But my left brained trappedness being described as a serial processor makes so much sense. Not less frustrating, but an explanation. 🙂 And of course, my desire to move ever more to the right side increases after hearing Dr. Bolte Taylor’s experiences.

2.) I would have loved to hear Ori’s version of your cousin kissing. You’ll have to recount. 🙂

iii. And thanks for sharing Ms. Roach’s talk too….because you know, nothing makes this expanse of time go faster than spending 20 minutes thinking about you and orgasms. Aye. 😉

E.) Love to see the crazy outfit for today. I’m assuming pics? You seem to be a chronicler. Which book did you spend time with today? What was your favorite new thought or insight directly inspired by your book?

V.) Did you know today was Memorial Day? beach was a little crowded [he said both ruefully and ironically], so we ended up downtown again instead. Tomorrow is beach day I guess, because our mutual friend needs to see her some ocean something fierce.

(8) Now who’s rambling?

and finally…’s the comfort and pleasure of sleeping near you that is exacerbating the “bit of emptiness” to near excruciating levels now that you are no longer here. oops….I mean…..yeah, I liked sleeping near my pal too.


On Mon, May 25, 2009 at 2:58 PM, Angela M. Baxley wrote:

Ori describing the kissing cousins scenario from last night, over breakfast with friends, was hilarious.

Current note of interest, when O asked how I slept, I said like a rock like usual, because totally comfortable with my pal. He said well, yeah, he has an awesome bed. I pointed out that while that’s true it’s more the comfort level with whom you share your sleeping space… At which point I get that now classic goofy grin of the weekend when I realize how very well I slept next to you… Even on the floor!

Headed to the beach. With a good book and a crazy outfit. Cowwwboy baby! 😉

On May 25, 2009, at 1:22 PM, Mike Tyler wrote:

No question still sleeping…..and now time for eating. Nothing to distract me today, so i’m painfully aware that I’m STARVING. Van and I always go to a beautiful place with an elevated deck LITERALLY “on the beach”, so we can sit there and eat and chat and watch dolphins and swimmers and surfers and beach bums contemplate how utterly beautiful San Diego is, and how it just may well be the most perfect place on earth.

You know….as far as cities go. 😉

(can’t wait to get back to check out TEDTalks, one of what I hope will soon be at least 3980 things that you will share with me in the near future. 🙂 )

On Mon, May 25, 2009 at 9:18 AM, Angela M. Baxley wrote:
The first thing I do on waking is grab my phone and, yippee!, you’ve emailed me back!

Hopefully you’re still sleeping.

And Ori knew your t-shirt quote before I finished it. He quipped, us scientists get it (or something like that). Told you you’d get along.


On May 25, 2009, at 3:10 AM, Mike Tyler wrote:

Is this your way of asking for my number? 😉

I was right…..just a bit empty here now. Days being counted as we speak….

On Mon, May 25, 2009 at 12:13 AM, Angela M. Baxley wrote:
…and I wanted to text you a cute message… And that’s when I realize that I can’t. We never did exchange numbers.

Ori was confused. Thought *you* were my cousin. That was hilarious! I couldn’t figure out why he was hanging around. That explains it. 🙂

I can’t even describe my appreciation. I won’t try.



So giddy so crazy so caffeinated!

From: Angela M. Baxley
Date: Wed, May 27, 2009 at 1:44 PM
Subject: Re: So giddy so crazy so caffeinated!
To: Wm Micheal Tyler

Okay, back at computer for a minute… Responding inline…

And also, wondering what you do to manage your body stress stuffage. (Stuffage being my highly technical term) Basically, I forgot to take my adaptgen support stuff all weekend, and felt the effects yesterday. Realized in your situation you would be susceptible to all that stuff too. (Stuff being a technical term too.) I take this: Meanwhile, I’m curious. As a science guy are you a Rx only type, or how do you feel about naturopathic medicine whatnot shizz.

Btw, I am NOT a SF hippy. 😛 I was SO hippy before I ever showed up here. And I was raised more conservative than most anyone I’d bet, so I also don’t get into things that I don’t find scientific reasoning for. Doesn’t mean I understand the reasoning, but I understand how it could be.

On 5/27/09 1:13 PM, “Wm Micheal Tyler” wrote:

okay…. Truth Helmet Activated. Here are the facts as I know them, in no particular order:

1) I have this “job thing” on the horizon that I’ll know a heck of a lot more about on Monday. Could be real, could be imaginary, but I’ll know much more Monday evening.

2) Job market for my types is a bit tight, and and income to coffer the stores again would be good.

3) I really want to hear Miss Willie Brown.

4) I really wanted to have this conversation with you in person, but I appreciate that time is of the essence.

5) I had decided that precluding other extraneous events, this was my last job search in SD. I was going to start searching SF exclusively if this did not pan out. I already started reviewing job postings. Like 4 days ago.

6) I feel a new city would be a very very good thing for me.

7) I love SD, and I would love to see it fresh again through your eyes.

8) I feel having financial resources would be a very good thing for me.

9) I feel having you in my life would be a very very very very very very good thing for me.

So the timing is tricky. Can we wait until Monday? I can totally seeing each of us doing contracts in SD (I’d almost surely start on contract) for a while, and then looking out at the horizon. I can see you taking your Apple gig and me finding something in SF ASAP, doing that for awhile, and then looking out at the horizon. Other options wouldn’t be so scary if not for my current resource depletion.


feeling naked,

On Wed, May 27, 2009 at 12:54 PM, Angela M. Baxley wrote:

Oh no oh no oh no oh no! I forgot you’re going off to Yosemite. Will you be out of touch? That’s really okay, I suppose, I mean realistically I still have one (girl)friend sleeping in my bed right now, and she reluctantly (may) leave the day that both Margo and Brian descend upon me on Friday night… Then I’m off to Napa. So, realistically I can survive, because that’s my social life that carries me from day to day… I mean, uh, I’m sitting in the sunshine and grass listening to a rockin’ two-girl country music band called “Miss Willie Brown” right now at work. Life is hard.</>

Ok – so here’s the deal. I’m an organized one, and since we might not get much time to talk before I start having to make decisions (Apple being the forcing function) and I’d like to have you included in it, I’ll lay it all out. I’m not a poker player… Besides, these aren’t those kind of cards, really. 🙂

So, to go to Apple feels like I’ll be in the same place I am now in another year. Burnt out, albeit with another amazing company name on my already illustrious resume. But who wouldn’t take the job… Unless they found more truer options to compel them otherwise?

Enter LA/San Diego. I love the beach. Sunshine. Ocean (though I really don’t like the salt on my skin). It re-energizes me, relaxes and soothes me. My ideal, when it comes to the closest I seek of “normal life” is to be able to work from my laptop with my feet in the sand, and occasionally from a little distance in a café with a cool breeze. That’s contracting. That’s been scary when it’s been a thought of just moving to a random city and going for it alone. So, points for San Diego in that only one of us would be uprooting life, and that I would have a transitional job (the contract position I got in email).

Meanwhile, I don’t know if what I seek is just a little more relaxed break from “real life” normal job stuff, or if it’s to really go. So many people I know have gone to Chile, and Thailand, and I don’t know, all those amazing places. I’ve done far more structured travel. I’ve never been that free. And I’ve never had someone to travel with me.

Real world will always be waiting. The question is, what is the next step.

The last of options is that there is a lot of bio stuff (insert jokes here) in SF, and I could work a solid year at Apple (or even staying put in Yahoo) and prepare and plan for the great world tour.

There are lots of options, lots of fairly clearly defined variables, and then there’s yours. Tell me, what does your heart call out for, besides of course, me? 🙂

On 5/27/09 12:25 PM, “Wm Micheal Tyler”  wrote:

I want to explore every where and every when with you. and every beautiful, delicate inch of you too.

It was metaphorical energy – but it was extremely INTENSE metaphorical energy that threatened to rip my heart from my chest. Hmmm….I wonder if we can come to consensus on metaphysical energy? 😉 Nah….that’s way to “hippie/New Agey/San Francisco” for me. ‘;)

It does roll of the tongue…. maybe you just need more tongue practice.

And it’s funny (although am I really surprised at this point?), but “catalyst” was the precise word I chose yesterday that finally gave me the first measure of contentedness in describing you/me/us/we. I’ll leave the other words for your discovery at later times.

and if you are referencing the REO, you, dear one, are a geek and I love it. And I love the REO – I’m not ashamed. Although I can be quite cheesy, apparently.

I think that we have much to discuss and talk about and figure out… and there is time. 🙂 Without saying too much – I’ve (very) recently been thinking that SD may have run it’s course for me, and it’s time to leave ghosts to their peace. Not sure on that one yet, because of my love for this place – but I am having thoughts.

I don’t scare easily.

sorry so short…..I have to prep for my adventure to Yosemite, to be awestruck at the 2nd most perfect of God’s creations that I will have encountered in a week’s short time. Clearly, I am a very lucky man.

On Wed, May 27, 2009 at 11:12 AM, Angela M. Baxley  wrote:

And are you really sure that you were conscious?

No, “Lepidoptera” doesn’t really roll off the tongue so well. Not sure it rolls at all. I’ll have to examine your tongue when you say it. Butterflies in the tummy does. I am secure enough to admit that I had to look up the definition, and now I an going to point out that you, dearest sir, are a geek. I love it.

Soooooooo… You are a catalyst in a plan, a movement, a peristaltic process if you will, that has been underway and not wholly unlike an undertow in my life. That’s a whole bunch of saying that I have been thinking (oh man, really?! guess what song just came on?? “I can’t fight this feeling any longer…”) and I’m ready to jump. Jump with me. For if either of us falls, the other will life him up. Reminds me of one of my favorite lines of a song… “Would you like to dance around the world with me?”

Virgin America flights are still at $38/each way. I want to see you again. If you can’t come here, I’ll come there. Or we can do both.

You make it possible for me to go chase finding my dreams, if that doesn’t scare you, let’s figure that out. Are you ready for “real”? Please remember the conversation about focus… It’s all in the lens and the focus.

Am I scaring you?

Mike Tyler's Bed

1 for 1

On May 26, 2009, at 3:25 AM, Mike Tyler wrote:

One day of unmade, Angie-less bed.

(I’m kind of thinking about going with “Angie”… do you feel about that?) 😉

From: Angela M. Baxley
Date: Tue, May 26, 2009 at 6:43 AM
Subject: Re: 1 for 1
To: Mike Tyler

I think I like it. My momma is the only one who seems to ever call me
Angie. Obviously it’s something special you two must see in me. 🙂

And okay, okay, I must confess I occasionally tidy up the ends. My
bedroom has “wood” floors which get dusty.

Love the photo. Your bed will never be the same again.

Dying without photos of you/us though. Decided best not to aggitate
the lovely one by begging her to send them too soon.

You’re up late, and I’m up early. Walking the cool morning. Book and
beach never happened. That story to come.


to tell the truth

Date: Friday, September 7, 2007 at 1:35 AM
To: Brian Goldfarb <>
Subject: to tell the truth

Here’s one of those moments where I’m sad and vulnerable. I want to thrash myself, and thought like “I suck” come to mind. I say no wonder why I’m not wanted. I’m a disappointment to everyone I try to love.

I’m sad and I miss my dad. I see you talk to your parents and wonder what it would be like to have that. I believe my dad would love me regardless… I know he’d be disappointed in me, but he’d let me come and cry in his arms. He’d pat my head and tell me everything would be alright. He’d let me call and tell him how my heart hurts even in the middle of the night.

They say I was daddy’s girl.

Nibbles, Nibbles


you know i haven’t been proud of how i’ve been feeling lately. so lost, so desparate, so angry, so abandoned, so unloved. most of all i haven’t been proud of how felt like it wasn’t worth living if brian had given up on me. on us.

but the end of that last post shocks me. i can’t believe what i wrote. sure, janice takes the week of the week i have something to start talking about! it made me think of how much no one really knows. of the fear i used to live with. how i used to hate that there weren’t any bruises. it wasn’t bad enough for anyone to help, but enough to destroy me. i’ve known for a long time that justin reminded me of brad. that attitude.

i feel like it’s the worst idea to write this, but i wish that i could have vengence. i couldn’t comprehend what was going on then, but i can now. why did i shrink back in fear? i could have stopped it. i could have destroyed him. and it’s funny, what brad did to me doesn’t seem as bad. i’d prefer that to what justin did. brad only did that to me once.

i guess i don’t spend alot of time thinking back (haha, i just broke from my tears that were about to start when i realized that brian hates when people write “a lot” as “alot”. god i love him. i’ve tried so hard to fix that error after he casually mentioned it once!)

what was my point? i guess that i don’t spend a lot [sic] of time thinking back because it’s so bad. it’s a nightmare i lived. but i don’t know that i learned a grander lesson from it. sure i don’t think i’ll ever let a guy threaten me physically anymore, but that’s not because i hit back, it’s because i won’t get into that situation. i’ll walk away. fact is i’m scared shitless of being fucked up by some guy. of finally getting the shit kicked out of me the way i’ve always feared. but you can’t always protect yourself from getting into the situation. i could get mugged, and i guess i would just let it happen. i think that’s different, but still. point is, i walked right into this mess thinking i was safe. and when it came down to it i just let it happen to me. i’m just like my mother. i remember her telling me when i was young that she just let it happen because it was easy than fighting back and arguing with her brother over whether or not his friend just raped her. i’m not better than my mother.

i think i might find a self defense class. but what i really want is the ability to devastate some mans ability to ever think of having children the next time someone comes anywhere near crossing the line. i fucking dare them. but see that’s just how it works. you have to be sure he’s warranted it, because you can’t take it back. it reminds me of what my dad told matthew once when matt was pissed. he said “hit me. but make it count, kid. you’d better lay me out because you only have one shot.” i imagine that’s the gist of it. that’s why i never fought back.

i remember one night putting a knife under my side of the bed. brad found it. that’s the night the gouge was put in the kitchen wall. i held to the knife with all my might because i knew at that point it was a stupid idea because now i was fucked. he pinned me to the wall (why do i still remember so vividly the colors of those walls?) and kept smashing my wrist against the wall. i remember being afraid on two accounts then… not only what he’d do to me after he got it free from my hand, but also that it would fall to my feet and i wasn’t wearing shoes, and there was alot of skin along the way. i don’t remember the end of the story. i probably begged. i don’t know. i think that was the same night that i had written the poem below.

truth be told, i don’t want to work through this shit, i just want to be protected and forgiven. i don’t want to turn these stories over in my head, analyze them, look for flaws in my behaviors, figure out what caused what, and all that. it’s a life i can’t even picture as being mine. and i lived it for four years. i just want to forget.

but i want to learn how to hurt a man. there is a movie i’ve always secretly liked. it’s with jennifer lopez and it’s called “enough”. and there is an older one with julia roberts called “sleeping with the enemy”, but that one didn’t strike me as much as enough did.

okay. i feel slightly better. i’m not raging inside. i’m exhausted. i think i’m taking a sleeping pill again tonight. olivia suggested sleeping on the couch… apparently that’s why i slept so well while my brother was here. apparently it’s because it feels like someone is sleeping beside you.

oh, and on that note, i’ll have to note that for all that brad did to me after i was rid of him the hardest thing to do was to sleep alone. i guess that is what i’m going through again. at least i’m not my mother. she knew that he was never coming back.

i’m so tired.

October 1999, Lest it should be forgotten.

I sit here in the dark. I feel pretty much nothing inside.
You are in a better place, but without me.
I don’t know what to say or do.
I can’t leave because you won’t let me live without you.

Death is not an option until Life is a reality. How can you die until you’ve lived?
I wonder if I will be here, and it’ll all be the same, many years from now.
I wonder if we’ll get a divorce and move on apart from each other.

I really can’t see a future, can you?
I can’t see one day when we’ll have kids.
I can’t see one day when our brothers and sisters return.
I can’t see one day when the sun shines on us together.
I can’t see one day when you dance with me.
I can’t see one day when our children are born.
I can’t see one day when they grow up.
I can’t see one day when someone else’s life continues becomes more important than our own.
I can’t see one day when you smile lovingly down at my face.
I can’t see one day when my dad is alive.
I can’t see one day when we live.
I can’t see one day when we live forever.

I don’t want it to be like this. But there seems to be a problem bigger than us.
But, you can’t fix a something that isn’t broken.
And you don’t think that there’s anything broken.

How do you love someone who isn’t themselves?
How do you love someone who isn’t alive?
How do you love someone who doesn’t notice?
How do you love someone who doesn’t reply?
I want to believe in us, but there doesn’t seem much to believe in.
I want to believe in God, but noone seems to be out there.
I want to believe in love, but there is only hate.
I want to believe in you, but you don’t seem to care.

What ever happened to when we used to talk, together?
What ever happened to when we used to cry, together?
What ever happened to when we used to laugh, together?
What ever happened to when we used to work, together?

I try so hard to look forward.
But to what?
I try not to look back,
but you do.

More and more we gain, less and less we have.
Other people envy us.
They think we’re so great.
How they would love to have someone like us,
and to love and to take.
But if only they really knew,
if only they cared.
But no one bothers,
no one dares.

Who wants to admit that something is broken,
Who wants to admit a three-cord bond that is torn?
Who wants to help when evil befalls us,
who wants to carry us thru the storm?
But up to us it is, to make it thru.
Up to us it is, to practice the things we should do.

But so far away the days seems to fade.
So far away when it all seemed so clear.
So here I sit, and there you are.
At the meeting, so close but so far.

What does it take to feel again?
What does it take to live again?
What does it take to avoid death at the end?
This letter, like all, it must end.

Do you fear death, my love, losing my life?
Do you fear the pain in my Mom’s eyes?
Do you fear answering to why I wasn’t happy?
Do you fear trying to pretend it hasn’t happened?

One day I will be gone.
One day you won’t notice.
One day I will be gone.
And no one will notice.

You’ve lost me so far.
They’ve all lost me so far.

They say when God seems far away
you should guess who moved.
I guess I’ve moved, and he doesn’t know my forwarding address.
A friend who doesn’t write,
but cares all the same?

Why doesn’t someone stop me,
from this life that I live?
Why doesn’t someone love me,
from this hate that I give?
When does it all end?

I picture my head, my hair a mess and bloody…
you accidently pushed too hard, and I hit it on the corner of the bed.

I picture my baby, laying in the toilet.
You pushed too hard, and hurt my stomach.

I think it’s better this way.
That I die so others may live.

Don’t worry I won’t kill myself,
I have someone else to do that for me.

Nibbles, Nibbles


you are my best friend, and you always want to be my best friend

as my best friend you love me and want the best for me, for me to be healthy and safe

your finest moments in loving me are in my worst moments of living where you demonstrate just that. you put yourself and your heart and your feelings aside to care for me, to take care of me, to help me heal, so that i may one day become a secure and confident woman as i remember being as a little girl.

this all feels fantastic. this feels like what love should be. i don’t know what love is, but if it isn’t that, what else is there?

then i am sad.

this is my messed up logic.

what point is there in becoming that amazing me that you and and i believe in, if it isn’t for you? why would you invest so much in me and treasure the outcome? why would you love me so much and not love me?

there are many things i don’t understand. this is the one that overshadows me every day, and has since the spring.

all my logic can do is to say that you don’t love me in that way. but i don’t know what it is that would be missing so that could possibly be true. we connect by just looking into each others eyes when we lay our heads down beside each other. we connect in the most intimate of movements and motion.

so when i lose my sense of self and i say over and over “i don’t understand”, maybe you can at least understand what i mean.

i’m just emailing. i don’t want responses. i just want to share. i want to send the thoughts from the deepest depths of exploring my heart and soul out there into the world to the only one i put faith in.

if we aren’t lovers at least being friends can really mean something.

if i can’t be loved, i just want to be understood.

i was content today when you guys came to see eilon’s house. you seemed happy and i was happy. at little sad, but happy. that made me happy. to see you at ease, relaxed.


my space plus some, ok a lot

From: <>
Date: Wednesday, February 7, 2007 at 11:59 PM
To: Angela Baxley <>
Subject: Re: my space plus some, ok a lot

hey got your note and forwarded it to Vanessa. Thanks.

Love the family pics.  The last time I saw your mom and dad was in 1994? and I think that was probably the last time I saw Matthew, Heather and Erin to.  I still find it strange to call him your dad since I can actually remember knowing your dad.

Do you remember much of your dad?  My guess would be more from stories than experiences, though I have no idea of course.  Have you ever seen the picture of your dad holding me on his shoulders and we’re pointing toward the sky.  I remember that day.  Everyone was at our house in Van Wert for BBQ and a storm came rolling in and the clouds were moving really fast and that’s what we were looking at in the picture. Its funny the things we remember I can almost remember the conversation, that is to say I can remember hearing them talking to each other and to me.  I do remember a bit it was about the storm and the way the wind and clouds were that day.  I remember coming down from his shoulders to, mostly the way it felt.  Funny the things we remember.  I like that memory.

I remember another time at your house in Ft Wayne when I asked about a string art picture they had on the wall. It was a boat I think, a sailboat.  I remember looking at it on a table and seeing how the strings were pulled tight around little nails and formed into the picture.  I think you were looking at it to, do you remember that?  Then I think for some reason we were in a hurry to get somewhere. We walked out the back door and it was dark out. That’s it nothing else on that one.  Except that at sometime you and Heather took a bath.

I also remember when they told me he had been in an accident. I was worried.  Then I was angry when he died. Not because he died really but because he may not have had to. I remember grandma Schaadt was really angry over it to.  I don’t remember who told me but I remember exactly what they said.  I think grandma and grandpa still have that motorcycle.

Every time I see a picture of John Lennon with a beard I think of your dad.

Sorry if any of this brings up a bad memory or makes you sad.  I just thought you’d like to know and hear something about your dad you may not have known or heard before.

I love you,


P. S. – I know this probably sounds really wrong, so take it for the meaning and not the sound, if you weren’t my cousin you’d definitely be on the “hotty” list. I think you’re really doing great and I envy you a lot for getting to travel so much and to have disposable income, what a new concept. I’m really happy for you. can’t wait to see you.


real estate in the DR

From: Derrick Glass <>
Date: Friday, October 29, 2004 at 10:07 PM
To: Angela Baxley <>
Cc: Angely Glass 
Subject: RE: real estate in the DR

CC’ing Angely, she’s done most of the investigations.

“go ‘spy out the land’ first”

M. Derrick Glass, October 2004

First, if you’re thinking about serving where the need is greater, it’s probably better to actually go “spy out the land” first. There are a couple of major metropolitan centers – Sto. Domingo, and Santiago – and some resort areas – Puerto Plata, Punta Cana, etc. – which are attractive to the more westernized visitors.However, much of the need is in areas where there is no real well-established real estate market. As a matter of fact, if you are not sure where you’d end up, you might prefer to look into renting. You can usually find attractive prices – RD4000-5000 per month seems to be common for decent houses outside the capitol – and you aren’t locked into a decision you later regret.

There’s a need-greater website that has a lot of information you should really pay attentioin to. Angely can give you the link.

A word of caution – don’t buy off the web. Dominicans are scandalously famous for scamming tourists. The prices I saw were unreasonable…


From: Angela Baxley
Sent: Friday, October 29, 2004 6:08 PM
To: M Derrick Glass
Subject: real estate in the DR

How could I get info on this. Seriously thinking about figuring out how to buy a house down there, even if I can’t move for a few years…


Angela M. Baxley
Product Designer : Web Platform & Tools
42/3641 : 425.705.9582 : abaxley


“Yeah, we’re watching you….

Emphasis added by Editor, now, today. Published 30 Nov 2018

Two minute reply time, given time zones.

Didn’t even get to take a breath or break…

From: Derrick Glass <>
Date: Monday, May 10, 2004 at 12:16 PM
To: Angela Baxley <>
Cc: <>
Subject: RE: Is this…

Yeah, we’re watching you….

Helps you appreciate why you should never do anything you wouldn’t want other people to know about. It comes out sooner or later.

“Yeah, we’re watching you….

Helps you appreciate why you should never do anything you wouldn’t want other people to know about. It comes out sooner or later.”

M. Derrick Glass, May 10, 2004 11:16AM

We would love to contact Irene and her family. I attempted their email a while back and it was rejected. Angely may call her from time to time. Rainer Thomson cannot forget us. He made an announcement from the morning worship table the day we left from a four-day assignment in Bethel: “We have some sad news. The Glass family is leaving today, and they’re taking *our* children with them.” Our kids were a big hit.

To spend three months, you need to do this (in order):

– Get married.

– Have a baby.

– Take your fully Infant Care Leave, including unpaid absence.

Let us know how that goes. 🙂

By the way, we’re friends with Todd and Mendi Hibbs (more Microsofties). We IM them, with video, frequently. Her sister is currently in D.R. as well, in Santiago.

Do you have any recent photos you’d like to share?


From: Angela Baxley (BENSON)
Sent: Monday, May 10, 2004 2:11 PM
To: M Derrick Glass
Cc: Angely Isabel Glass (
Subject: RE: Is this…

Yeah, I went blue with MS mid-February. While I was contracting I had planned on taking my three month break in the D.R., but now I just have three weeks. How do you manage to  spend so much time down there? I see you’re some how related to VS… what do you do? Forgive me I still have so many acronyms to learn.

BTW, the Thomson family (from Redmond) also says ‘hi’. Isn’t it such a small world? Aunt Rhudelle had told me to contact Rainer Thomson in D.R. to have him keep an eye out for me for someone to partner with… then I happen to start dating a guy by the same last name, only to find out that a.) they are cousins to that brother I was supposed to track down… and b.) they also know you guys, who ironically have been spending time in the D.R. too.


From: M Derrick Glass
Sent: Monday, May 10, 2004 11:00 AM
To: Angela Baxley (BENSON)
Cc: Angely Isabel Glass (
Subject: RE: Is this…

Yes I am.

How are you? I talked to Melvin a couple of weeks ago, and he gave me the news. Obviously, he’s passed it on to you. Congratulations on your job.

Incidentally, my family and I just got back from the Dominican Republic a month or so ago. We were there for three months. We’re planning on going back shortly. I hope you keep your plans alive as well.

Please stay in touch. I’ve been sent to Seattle a few times. I’m on the SIE team now, and get sent out a lot to other places; I’m supposed to be in Puerto Rico at the end of this month.

I’m copying my wife, since I’m sure she’d like to get acquainted as well.


From: Angela Baxley (BENSON)
Sent: Monday, May 10, 2004 1:58 PM
To: M Derrick Glass
Subject: Is this…


If you’re the right Derrick, then you’ll know it.

Just taking a chance that this might be you… Let me know!


Angela M. Baxley
Product Designer : Web Platform & Tools
42/3641 : 425.705.9582 : abaxley


Sure I do! :)

On 9/30/99, 5:14 AM, “angela.benson” <> wrote:

    To: elmojo <>


    Subject: Re: Sure I do! 🙂

    What that thingy at the bottom?

    Well we’ve talked, but he’s heavily influenced by his mother. I found the

    lyrics to his music, and together with the Awake magizine have found out a

    major problem. The music has blocked the holy spirit from us and our house. I

    got rid of it (sent it up to him) yesterday. Last night I was able to say a

    prayer. It was coherent, focused, and not interrupted by thoughts. Before last

    night, I wasn’t able to and really had stopped for a long time trying.

    I slept on my tummy stretched out on the bed (gotta take advantage of it while

    I can!). My back was unprotected to the “world”. But I didn’t feel vulnerable,

    or worried. I slept with a smile on my face, and feel asleep at a reasonable


    The music is our problem, just the catalyst. It doesn’t matter how hard we

    would try to fix anything without the holy spirit (and add to it the negative

    influence and views of the music) we couldn’t get anywhere.

    So now. THis morning he called, and told me he was going this weekend to get

    his drum set. I told him he couldn’t do that until he had seperation papers

    written up. (His car and drum set are the only things holding him to the

    marriage materially.) So he basically can’t do that (he doesn’t have any

    money). He also wanted the old furniture to take with him. (It’s all mine,

    gifts from co-workers, etc.) I told him he’d have to pay me what we were going

    to sell it for. ($150) OR

    The deal. (a.k.a. The Challenge)

    He comes down, stays in the house, and goes to work, the meetings and service.

    Two weeks. If in two weeks he’s ready to leave, I get the papers, give him the

    furniture, and help him load the truck. And he can say he tried.

    I put faith in Jehovah that that music is like the Awake said, that

    influencial, and by removing that variable from our relationship, coupled with

    his taking the St. John’s Wort & Magnesium, and an open mind, we have a

    fighting chance. All it takes is Jehovah’s holy spirit flowing again.

    Anyways, there goes… write me back, and tell me what you think. I’m offended

    by the Teddy Bear thing. I needed it, but I don’t anymore!


    elmojo <> on 09/29/99 09:23:01 AM

    Please respond to elmojo <>

    To: Angela M. Benson/USA/BAC@NATIONSBANK


    Subject: Sure I do! 🙂


    I wasn’t able to check my email since sunday night.  Julie says I can’t give

    you the bear, she has claimed it for her own!  You know, the old ‘what’s

    mine is yours and yours is mine’ thing.  I can’t blame her though, it is

    awefully cute!

    So, what’s the news?  Fill me in… COMEON!!

    Gotta split, keep strong!

    Luv ya!




    Get Your Private, Free Email at


Guess what!

On 9/30/99, 5:13 AM,”angela.benson” <> wrote:


    Subject: Guess what!

    I told you last night how I collected Brads music (on Monday night) together

    and shipped it out to him yesterday. What I didn’t know was how big of a

    difference it would make.

    Gregg, I prayed and prayed, the four nights I stayed there by myself. I

    couldn’t seem to keep my concentration or focus to be able to finish a prayer

    at a time though. I kept feeling uncomfortable in a “I need to get over it”

    way. I thought I was just afraid of being alone there at night. I went to sleep

    when I was thoroughly exhausted.

    Last night I didn’t have any feeling of paranoia. I stretched out comfortably,

    and didn’t worry about which direction my back was facing, or feeling

    “vulnerable”. I said my prayer, it was complete, focused and made sense. I fell

    asleep with a smile on my face. The house settling noises were still there, but

    they didn’t make me jump, or my heart pound out of my chest.

    I don’t care what anyone else thinks. There is a difference, and there’s only

    one thing missing from that one night to the next. It even “screwed up” my

    prayers. It wasn’t exhaustion either. If I was exhausted, I couldn’t have

    prayed better than all the other nights. It only took one prayer, and it made

    sense, with a beginning, body, and end, without interruptions.

    I wish that there was some way to convey the peace that I felt, how comfortable

    I was able to feel to Brad. It’s a big deal that I slept on my tummy. I left my

    back open to the world. Even when Brad was there I would sleep with my back to

    him, and until he came to bed not be able to sleep.

    I used to pray ALL THE TIME. Once when I was working with my pioneer partner I

    had asked her, how often do you pray? (Thinking of the scripture, you know the

    one, when you lay down, get up….) She said all day. That’s when I started

    having conversations with Jehovah.

    Anyways, I just talked to Brad. He called to tell me that he’s coming this

    weekend to pick up his drum set. To me that’s an indication of separation. I

    told him he would need to bring papers with him, because I couldn’t allow him

    to take that (for that reason) with out it being “legal”. He also asked to have

    the old furniture (it’s mostly all mine). I told him that with the situation

    that I am left in I need the money from it, whether its him or anyone else,

    because as he said this isn’t about love anymore.

    Then I proposed a deal.

    The hard way: just as I told him- separation papers for him to pick up his drum

    set, pay for the furniture if he wants it, and it’s over.

    The easy way: since he’s coming anyways, stay for two weeks. Go to work, the

    meetings, service, and family bible study. No music (he’ll leave with his mom),

    pornography, and his has to take his St. John’s Wort & Magnesium (and before he

    gets here so it kicks in). Have an open mind. He doesn’t have to talk to me,

    sleep in our room, or even touch me. (Hopefully he will give it an open mind so

    he will stick around the house for us to interact.) If in two weeks he ready to

    leave again I will give him the furniture, I’ll get the papers, and I’ll even

    help him load the U-Haul truck. And he case say “I gave it a fair shot”.

    What do you think? If he needs to talk to someone to discuss whether he should

    or not, would you (instead of Pam)? And if he decides to take the easy way,

    will you talk to him to get him in the right frame of mind when he gets here?

    I’m not planning an attack, just allowing Jehovah’s holy spirit to do it’s

    work, with the right actions in place.

    Please write back. And thank you very much for talking to me last night.




On 9/30/99, 5:13 AM, “angela.benson” <> wrote:</>

Subject: IMPORTANT!!!

Last night (Wednesday) Brad called  at 1:30 am. I had left a message for him to
call me, to talk as I’ve been told I need to continue to try to do. When I told
him I just wanted to talk, he said he had thought it was important – Our
marriage isn’t.

Oh, well, after a squabble and his phone disconnecting several times he finally
got a reliable phone, and gave me the respect to talk to me since he called so
late, and woke me up.

Talking together I got through to him. This is how I sum it up, in MY words.
(I’m not going to try to quote, but this is all based directly from what he
said.) And it’s not necessarily in order of statements, but I’ll try to
rearrange them as I go along…

That he was told that the music isn’t a problem.

That he was told that it’s normal {i.e. okay} for him to look at pornography.

That he doesn’t care what this means to his relationship to Jehovah.

The point is, he tried fighting all the way through the first part of the
conversation. (The phone disconnected, and I said a prayer, for in case he
would call back.) The he was reasonable. He started talking about our deal.

That’s when he told me, crying,

He is “scared”, if he comes back, he can’t “show my {his} face up here again”.
That his parents (said/think?) that he is weak because he can’t make a decision
and leave me, and can’t keep it {decision}

He said he would think about the deal and talk to his parents about it.

I told him that I have been told, and the Family book says, we shouldn’t have
our parents involved. I begged him (in a not so nagging sounding way) to NOT
discuss it with them. I told him that they would take him back in, even if he
came down here, and decided to leave again. I asked him to talk to you instead,
explaining that as an elder, the holy spirit flows through you when you counsel

Basically, from his actions, tears, and open heart – I now believe that he
want’s to try one more time. I hate that at the end of two weeks, he may miss
is family, or something and use that in his decision making. But I can’t
control that.

He asked for a couple of things “If I am going to/do come down there”. That
tell my parents to stay out of our lives. I told him that’s why he needed to do
the same in deciding to come or not, and that I would even move if that made
him feel better.  For me to apologize to his parents for “how I’ve treated
them”. I said that I would, and that hopefully they wouldn’t try to counsel, or
chastise me then, but despite anything that’s happened, my behavior is not
substantiated as a Christian. That I list out what I have to work on. I went
over things with him then that I have already thought about –
Being more sensitive to his feelings (in how the are highly sensitized with low
self esteem or ADD)
That the book orders that I had continued to marriage due, despite all that
happened, but I hadn’t (Never read material until he had left.)
That despite what he does that I have to continue to stay strong and work at my
There were more that we talked about, but basically it seems like we have
identified enough common ground now. He is thinking about it, and wants to. But
what I’m scared of are those last two statements he told me, about showing his
face, and being weak. That’s allot to hold against me. With him believing that
(or being told that) he has to choose then between me, or his family.

So I ask, please talk to him. I think he needs reassurance that Jehovah’s holy
spirit, if we let it, can fix anything. That the music should be something he
should consider as maybe being a catalyst for how we’ve felt and fought. That
we are instructed to apply bible principles to any problem that we come across,
and it hasn’t been done yet in this case. That if he does have a health problem
like ADD, and what he’s been taking (St. John’s Wort & Magnesium B-6) has
worked, or not hurt, then he continue to try it, until it’s replaced by
something else. (He started taking it, and continued doing so for his mother,
it has helped tremendously.)

These are all principles and points that have counsel in the Family book. If
you feel comfortable please discuss them with him. He needs someone who he
doesn’t believe he’s disappointed.

Thank you,


From your loving wife…

From: “Angela M. Benson” <>
Date: Tuesday, September 28, 1999 at 6:11 PM
To: Gregg Benson <>
Subject: Fw: From your loving wife…

This was a night where it was bad. I wrote this sitting in the dark. I put the knife under my bed this night. I thought he would try to kill me (inadvertently) after he found out what I wrote and told his mom. I told her everything. He didn’t have anything to worry about. She told me I was the problem. That I needed help. I don’t remember what happened. But it was like the rest of them.