Lament for a Dream

What an ugly fate for such a sweet dream. A shame that I had to kiss this one good-bye. Oh, I'll live with its Hell, and for a while she was like a breath of fresh air, but I should have seen it coming when she brushed off that first compliment. What part hurts the worst of all? I saw it way too late. Something was eaten deeper into her than I could ever dig long before her eyes stopped flirting with mine. Love truly is blind.

See, we were one of those fairytale couples. Amazing how something so random as a typo can take us places we'd never normally go. In the early days of August, she wandered into the Plentyoffish date site. Was it fate? Faith? Circumstance? Did it really matter? She happened onto my profile. Curious, she sent her first signal. It turned into an encounter between one who was there by pure chance, and one who'd given up on love and stayed only for the Forums. Seemed almost natural that we were destined for "happily-ever-afters".

Love is supposed to grow over time. I heard it puts down roots for the charmed. Guess we were, but kind of shy too. Our profiles said: "looking for friends". For almost a month, she and I traded e-mails - ten a day sometimes - and not always at a "penpals" level. It seemed kind of funny, ten days and thirty-seven e-mails after she sent that first message, when she worried I might think she was stalking me. Stalking is unwelcome attention. Hers was welcome. Between the lines of oh, so many messages, hers was almost clear enough. Instinct is what I didn't trust.

Could she really be interested in me? Love hasn't always been kind in the past. It took a nudge from a friend to steer me in the right direction. Even today, I'm grateful for that nudge. In the dawn of September we met for the first time. There was a simple innocence in her I'd never felt before: a comfort, a trust, a certain something. We traded magic the very instant our eyes met and we shared a first long embrace. She told me I'd won her when I first called her "Babe".

There were obstacles - kidneys, Court and a jealous ex being the worst. We stuck together. The monster who was her husband filled a few letters. "How long is he going to wait?" was the theme of a few more. "For as long as you're the pot of gold at the end of this rainbow" I replied. She warned me her mother would object, but it turned out that wasn't true. In two dates, and an incredible volume of e-mail, feelings grew fast. Some, maybe too fast....

How can I ever forget the trail of our peeled-off clothes between my couch and the bed? Though her clues and hints were many in our e-mail trade, it wasn't planned. All it was going to be was a late September weekend getaway from her stress. Things just naturally led where they did. Her glow brightened my next many weeks. For the next month-and-a-half, we lived the sweet stuff of romance novels and bed-time stories.

We were two lonely people who fell in love at first sight. Babe and I lived an emotional high, made big plans, and rushed toward a fairytale goal. It was just within our reach. Somewhere along the way, we must have bypassed that "best friends" stage. My most comfortable guess is she got scared. What couldn't she tell me about? Soon, she who urged me on was she who accused me. It was too late for me to put on the brakes without at least one of us getting hurt.

There were signs too, in reflection - signs I should have noticed when she told me how she was the family "black sheep", or when she signed back onto the date site - then claimed I told her she had to. Clear warnings should have come in her every "poor me" and when she stalked the forums drama queen (a certain rival of sorts) through every thread, then publicly attacked her with such rabid conviction. I'm so guilty of accepting people at their word, reading silence as acceptance, and seeing "all is right" in a smile.

In reading through those many letters we traded, in among all the words of love, life and the tomorrows we were going to share, she mentions feeling depressed. It came just days after that first time we made love. Was it that, the little pink pills she'd stopped taking (something to cope with the boy's behaviour issues - she claims) or problems at home? Hers did sound very unsettled.

Family Court wanted statements from the kids. She was hurt because her son wanted to go live with his father. It hadn't worked before. Her ex placed too much emphasis on being single and drinking. Responsibility only got in his way. I wondered how he could have any legal rights at all if he'd really beat that child. Conditions in that poor kid's own home life must have seemed awful desperate if he'd choose an abusive dad over her. The boy really believed she didn't want him.

Late September and the first part of October we worked around the Court stuff. I found it strange that she didn't want me to be there with her. She was worried about an impression I'd get. Mine was already made. Reality does its things to lives, but it doesn't make the person. Here was a woman worth all the supporting patience in the world. The only place I could be supportive was via e-mail. It mattered, but I respected her wish.

October and a big way into November, we lived on Cloud Nine. We announced us to the world - in gratitude and love - all over that dating site's forums. Late October and early in November, we visited with each other's parents - her Mom first. I spent time with Babe and the kids, and just melted into every second of it. Those kids are great! They took to me just like I was one of the family, and I loved them like they were my own.

Her 17 year old daughter even said I was the dad she'd never had. She was so happy to see her mother smiling again. Her 14 year old son wouldn't trust any guy she was with. He kept hoping his dad and mom would get back together. A month after we started seeing each other, he told his dad to leave her alone. Both of them praised me up whenever their father quizzed. She insisted, nine years after the divorce, he just wouldn't let go.

Seems, in the past, whenever a girlfriend dumped him, he was back on her doorstep looking for a way back in. She swears he ruined several of her relationships that way. I promised I would not be so easily driven away. Oddly enough, for a woman who was supposed to have been so terrified and abused, she seemed to push a lot to keep the fight hot. Though words of love never dimmed between us, and our time together was magic, stress always seemed to find its way to her.

Sometimes I wondered if I was with her too much. Deep down, I felt we'd moved too fast. She set the pace. I promised I wouldn't lead her astray - but I couldn't promise I wouldn't follow. We'd agreed to overnight stays, and it became a few days, then one week on one week off. We spoke in terms of forever. She never seemed to want me to leave. I always felt like I belonged. Even she called it my home. She promised she'd let me know if it was time for me to go.

When I was at my place, and agreed to come on one day, she'd invite me over one, two, sometimes three days earlier than we'd planned. I truly believed she wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with her. Still, there were the hints that we could be together too much. Though I felt like I was getting some mixed signals, I was so sure we had a level of communication where she felt free to say what was on her mind. As long as she didn't object, I felt welcome.

I can't put a date on when I saw it happening. Her eyes showed hints of something other than love. Was it guilt? Shame? They'd stopped fixing on mine. She excused it as pain from her kidney trouble and fear about her upcoming medical tests so far from home. I'd been in doctor office waiting rooms, ER and that examining room with her. I'd held her hand and hugged the pain away several times. It was so easy to accept her at her word. She's told the world I was her rock of support.

It started to get obvious - like when she flinched if I touched her in her sleep, or in those silent thousand-yard stares. Our open-hearted talks slowed. She didn't cuddle (face-to-face complete with kisses) before we went to sleep and started dodging the hugs she once so loved. At times, it felt like she was pushing me away - but she still took the time to let me know she cared.

"What's wrong?" was now answered by an evasive: "Nothing", or: "I already told you before". Our trip to the city was coming up soon - and she's been in pain. If it was something else, I didn't hear. I watched and felt the signs. Really hurts to know she wouldn't speak, when something could have been done - or the heartache of a lingering death might have been softened.

That third week-end in November, we had to cut our visit to the cottage short. Her son came home stressed and sick from his father's house. All the way back, she was upset, worried that I'd be mad about it. I understood. Explained, in complete honesty, that I was a bit disappointed, but the kids have to come first. She seemed uneasy, but relieved. Though I didn't know it at the time, this was the last week-end we'd spend together in this place we first made love.

The only thing I can put a date to, and associate it with anything, is November 23. That night, I lashed out in my sleep. I've hit many a wall. This time, I hit her! Anyone who's lived trauma will know what that's like. I remember she woke, panting in a panic, because the hit scared her so badly. I felt terrible, so guilty about it. She laughed it off a couple of times throughout the day. Said it didn't matter. Even she's kicked me in her sleep. It happens.

Thing is, in every letter after that (yes, we did leave little love e-notes for each other) "I love you now and forever" was just a simple and chilly "love you". Her mood took a dark turn that day. That night was the first without a good-night kiss. In the very early hours of morning, I woke in pain. I don't know if I cursed the ache or shushed the dog as I got out of bed. She came downstairs shortly after and demanded to know if I'd called her "bitch".

It all came to a head the next day. She was in a particularly bad mood. I asked her if I should go home - meaning does she need some distance? We were, after all, together better than half the time. She heard that as a threat to break up with her. Angry, she accused me of playing head games. She would tell me when she wanted me to leave. To add to my confusion, the very next day, she told me she needed some space. Bottom was coming up fast....

Several times, I watched as this girl who was supposed to be so much in love with me accessed her ex's e-mail and dateline accounts, messed with his profile and deleted messages from potential dates. She didn't even try to hide what she was doing. It was like a family game. She claimed it was so much fun to play headgames with him because he was supposed to be such an abusive person. Those mixed signals were getting completely fouled by now.

Why would she be trying to keep him from meeting someone if she was so adamant about keeping him out of her life? I felt like I didn't even matter. It hurt me to the core. I asked her one day if she was going to pay me as much attention should the time come that we end things too. There was a day she found her sister's address in his list. She deleted it, then even went so far as to phone and make accusations. All the while, her ex was still getting mail at her address.

After that, some previous banter about views from her webcam - and part of a chat script that she forwarded to me from some Gamezone buddies about a "threesome" while she was in the city (her too-righteous: "I thought you knew me better than that." in response to a question about the proposal knotted my gut) - what was on her computer screen became a touchy subject.

All of a sudden, a pastime we'd shared since we started seeing each other became "crowding her" and invading her privacy. She avoided affection - the biggest reason we fell into each others' arms in the first place. Excuses were being made of why we couldn't have together time - things that hadn't been issues in the beginning.

Late in November, I was bracing for the end. The romance was fading fast. She just seemed to care less and less about us. This wasn't the lady I'd fallen in love with. I wondered if I was giving her enough, or if it was worry about her medical issues. To ask only brought increasing anger. To show, brought fire. I was hearing how she only asked me to stay because she felt guilty when I went home and sorry for me that I was there alone. Where once, I could speak openly, now I had to pick and choose my words carefully, for they would be used out of context against me.

Her ex refused to take the boy while she was away. That left her daughter in charge of a brother she really can't control. In that early December week we were gone, he was showing up at her house, jealous and cursing her out. That caused a lot of stress in the kids, and in her. I'd seen her mean streak in several e-mail attack/retaliations with him, then a cyber assault on that forums drama queen. Now, accusations heaped on me were getting spiteful. I was a controller, blunt, jealous, untrusting, pushy, selfish. Interesting, I'd seen all of those traits in her already. They who accuse? She flew into a complete rage when I asked about childhood sexual abuse.

My insecurity did not stem from a yesterday. This was here and now. Over the past couple of weeks, she'd given me many reasons to doubt her sincerity. It really felt like she just kept me around for the ride to the city, and to be her protector and tour guide there. Scary stuff or not, I was still her rock - brave and feeling for her. The mood was tense all the while we were there. She promised a "honeymoon" in this time away. For the first time, we didn't make love. We had sex.

The week before Christmas, she sent me home again. Now, I was pressing her for intimacies she'd initiated and pushing for tomorrows we'd only talked about - but to the face of the world, she "loved" me as much as ever. I was jealous and controlling because I’d asked her to give up the mutual hostility with her ex. I was possessive just because I was there. She accused me of making her private life public in those forums we'd danced on before. A friend's name spoke from my sleep, sometime weeks ago, means I'm cheating? That's how she found out the ex was. How do you explain to anyone who doesn't want to hear? For the record, I was always faithful to her.

Too much truth may have been coming to light. It escalated to a blow-out about how she stalked her ex-husband online, how he seemed to know so much about our personal life (not stuff the kids would know) and how she seemed to be so obsessed with him. I wondered if she was looking for all the things she hated about him in me, and was finding them. "If you want the SOB so bad, go back to him!" His pet name for her? "Babe"....

Christmas, I discovered her sister wasn't the monster she'd been painted to be. Some family talk about her ex and a comment about stalking upset Babe. All the holiday, I felt the need to talk. Some things from our last time together still bothered me. We just couldn't get the time. Then next day, when things slowed a bit, she read a voice raised in pain and frustration as a temper. Now, she accused I was trying to make her choose between me and her kids! There was no point in going on. You can't reason with the unreasonable. As I left, I told her: "Have a nice life."

A day later, she said she needed some time alone to think.

It's not all her fault. I'll accept my part of the blame. That hit in the night shouldn't have mattered. It seems like it woke something more than just her. Frankly, I didn't recognize the brake lights. My past hasn't shamed me, and I believed in her. That's my biggest mistake. Our versions of the word "space" must have different meanings. My response to cold shoulder is to ask: "what did I do?" Clingy isn't a pretty thing to a lady who's second-guessed a dream and led herself to feel pushed.

The name-calling, the accusations, the interrogations - hers only hurt my confidence. She claimed I haven't let go of my past. What did she expect me to think about her stalking her ex? It's all okay if it's her? Is it really over between them? What else has she lied about? She wouldn't talk, so all I had to go on were guesses and some bad experiences. God forbid, I'd had to dig into ghost relationships to analyse this one. That killed it.

She knew how to be scared. Her father and her ex-husband were abusive - and now she worried about words in dateline forums.

I couldn't get any answers from her. She was already gone, so what did I have to lose? Writing is therapy, and on those forums you get feedback. I didn't want "poor you" and sunshine. I needed some hope, yet I didn't want us to be identified. We were a well known couple. Our story, love at first sight, was magic to a lot of people there. In a pseudonym, I thought I could keep a low profile. Some details were changed or added, but the issue stayed intact. I asked what I had to.

A friend of hers saw it (coincidently, that same friend who'd nudged us together) and recognized it. Seems she knew more about us than I was told. She must have heard a lot of personal details - or I didn't add enough cover. Babe was bothered more by the stuff I used to disguise her from the world than she was the problems I addressed. There was no proof I wrote it.

She didn't ask; she accused - again. I was caught, and I denied. Somehow, I hoped she still cared enough to back off, read closer and understand the meat of the story - our story: "Triggers". What did I wake that night?

It was wrong for me to deny it, and the whole thing just sort of got harder and harder to get out of. A few days later, she said she'd drop it. What's done is done, but I knew, and so did she. It always would have been there, unresolved. I admitted to it. Had to. The guilt was eating me up. It wouldn't matter what I spoke in my own defence. In her mind, only she can be right. That name from a dream was someone real, so I must be a liar.

My neighbour is a nurse at the local psychiatric hospital. As a friend, it hurt her to see me depressed and near tears. As a nurse, she fretted about my colour. She knew about my heart condition. Seemed pretty obvious to her that I was under a lot of stress. She gave me a shoulder to cry on, and an ear to bend. I told her what I'd done. She didn't like it, but understood why, and liked the anonymous way I posted it.

I just couldn't make head nor tails out of what this lady I love was saying in chat. I felt guilt, because I knew she was right - I was lying. But, accusations about so many other things at once (all in MSNese, odd spelling and icon) confused the hell out of me. My friend read the transcripts with me just so she might understand better - and got a very a balanced perspective. She seemed to think "your little miss sexy is a little a bit crazy."

Yes, it went against my morals to show private messages to someone else. I feel my shame. Was it really an outright betrayal of trust? It wasn't done out of malice or to fuel any gossip. My friend is a professional. She read only pertinent information, as therapist and as an interpreter. This lady I love is a very confused and private person. She is embarrassed that someone else knows. Apparently, it was okay for her friend though....

Later, she created a thread to get some advice, but not in the same way. She didn't believe we were so known, and posted in her own identity. In that thread, she made the same accusations in public that she had to me in private. It hurt, but I was going to leave it alone. My friend knew the whole story. She posted as neutrally as she could. In a second post, she revealed she'd seen the chat transcripts (without revealing details) and called her out on some of her own fibs.

Even I received a couple of e-mails about that thread. It proved my point that we were a well known couple, so it partially justified my use of an alias. In one, I was accused of being an abusive bastard and how could I do such a terrible thing to such a sweet girl. In another, we were inspirations to all single people. What happened?

I posted a very public apology and an explanation for what I'd done. Essentially, it was the same letter I sent to her. She was very annoyed that I'd "hijack" her thread and demanded to know "who the hell is she?…" (my friend) Then, she called. There was a lot of confusion and accusations about my friend. No matter how I tried to explain, it wasn't getting through.

We both had a big part in this thing, and I really hoped we could get over it. Long and the short of it is: It messed up, and she was so busy condemning me she couldn't (or wouldn't) see where she did. Outside of her own trust issues, she's pretty big on she can do no wrong. Heck, she's only human. We spoke of counselling. I can admit to my own issues, and seek help with them. She won't have any part of it. What is it she's so afraid of discovering about and admitting to herself?

I've had counselling - a lot of counselling. I learned how to deal with my past, to be comfortable with my past, to live with my past, and to speak out my past. I had to dig up my past, confront it, then bury it properly. She keeps hers all bottled up inside of her. That is danger in the making. I wish she'd told me my speaking of yesterdays bothered her much sooner than she did. By then, her mind was already set. Her fear was I'd blow up at her the same way her ex would have.

Over the next couple of weeks, we saw each other twice. Both times, it was almost as if we'd fallen in love again. Hugs and kisses were as warm as ever. "I love you" was still right there in her eyes - but secrets lived in there too. There was something she wasn't saying. On chat, she was distant and suspicious. I know she was afraid to say much, lest I "tell it to the world".

I meant it when I wished her "have a nice life ", but I really didn't want us to be history. I hoped it was the meds - like she insisted - or medical stuff. This door was still open, and she played it. She opened chat as many times as I did. I could tell she was busy with something or someone else. Whether it's head or online cribbage, Spitey does enjoy winning her games. She was evasive - always seemed to tip-toe around anything I dared to ask. No matter what I asked of us, of our relationship, of our future, I was pressing her - disrespecting her privacy.

Then, after we'd closed chat, one night in mid January, I remembered details of my father's upcoming surgery. I couldn't remember if I'd told her, so I phoned. She seemed to think I had other motives - like I was checking up on her. In an e-mail, she suggested my call was just an excuse. Now, what was its real reason? She accused me of being obsessive and, for the third time, told me it was over. Why had she second guessed us to death?

A week later, a day after her "very personal and I wish you'd respect that" appointment, we met for coffee. That day, on a long drive through the country, we spoke in honest and open terms. It was the first deep conversation we'd shared since early November. I sort of had to keep her talking. She told me it wasn't because I was a bad guy, or had those ugly traits she'd painted on me. They were excuses for her own cold feet. She was worried because she didn't know how to tell me how she really felt. Again - she based my reaction on her ex's sins.

Now, she was afraid of surrendering her independence. I will have to admit, we did move into a forever-type deal fast. We'd only met in very early September. I was a bit uncomfortable too. Initially, she set the pace. Oddest part is, it was that "know what I want and go for it" confidence I found to be her most attractive feature. Thing is, her kids are getting up to the age where the child support will soon be running out. That puts her on a single person's welfare if she can't find someone who'll support her. Is it the control she's afraid of losing - or her freedom?

On her invitation, that final week-end in January was an intimate one for us. The kids even gave us some together time Friday night. It was warm and inviting - but the magic just wasn't there. Saturday was friendly enough. Of course, the ex entered our conversation. Apparently, his new girlfriend was pregnant - and she was upset about it. Her son was throwing temper tantrums. Teen-agers, eh? As usual, he'd lost his Internet again. The whole family's addicted, so it causes a scene when she's "had enough". He complained about her need to control everything. Sunday, it was time for me to leave. She was distant again.

When I was back at home, she didn't want to chat much. Monday, she was chattier. Most interesting was when she asked me to write a witness statement for an upcoming hearing. Of course, I did it without question. I did see what happened, and I promised I would be there for her. Besides, we were attempting to reconcile. I mean, didn't we just share a passionate week-end? No matter, she made sure all the details were just the way she wanted them.

Throughout that week, the chill settled in again. It was obvious she was busy with someone else on the chatline. One word responses, evasiveness and long delays are dead give-aways. If I asked a anything close to a sensitive question, it was answered by a question. "You busy?" - "Why do you want to know?" I recalled the almost obsessive compulsion with which this "stalker" once e-mailed and chatted with me.

A couple of times, my words earned accusations. She started reading things into my posts when she saw I was back on the forums. Nothing was about her. The tragic truth is, her circumstances are so much like too many ladies I've known. Sad, really. She was always threatened by some idea that I couldn't let go of the past. How could I explain it better for her? My past has passed? It's the hope each dream from yesterday inspired that's still alive, waiting to be realized in some special person. I thought it was her. Thursday, when I said something about going offline, it took just a half minute for her to change screen pics to the "bait" pic - the one with lots of cleavage.

That first week-end of February was a kidfree one for her. As a mother, she'd earned it. I wasn't upset to know she wanted some alone time, just a bit disappointed that I couldn't share some of it with her. I was accused of being suspicious. Seemed to be following a trend in her ever-increasing worry that I thought she was cheating. If I'd thought that, I wouldn't even be speaking with her. It was so easy to see the things that angered her most were the very things she did herself.

Told her maybe I'd call on the week-end. Her answer: "I might not be home" made me wonder. Did she want to work on this thing or not? Mixed signals are the calling card of the truly messed up, and I was getting them in spades from her. Still, I trusted this lady, and told her so. She decided that was a challenge too! It brought on another barrage of her assumptions and faulty attempts at mind-reading. Maybe she was right. Maybe I really was trying to convince myself. How can you trust in headgames and secrecy?

What I do know of Babe's past has me doubting any guy could stand a future with her. She's driven every man who's ever entered her life away. Cases in point: Me.... Her ex.... Babe's last boyfriend - another internet gamer. He left after six months. If she played the same controlling head games with him as she did me, the poor man lived in Hell. Shortly after he left, he married. Obviously, he was feeling desperate in his life with her and set something else up for the escape.

How often have I heard about this one who stole stuff from her? or the guy who held her down? or that one who wanted her to camp-out the kids? ...or the hitter ...or the cheater. She's always the victim. The love of her life lives across the ocean - another gameboy - some rich British super soldier who makes a lot of promises and talks a lot of sunshine (and seems to have an awful lot of free time for someone so important) Then, there's an ex she won't let go. Even her son has been verbally abused by her too-sharp tongue. Is it any wonder he wants to go live with his dad?

Saturday, I got the most blatant display of control yet. I'm a writer. Dateline forums are great places to get immediate feedback on your ability to reach hearts. At the same time, I can feel like I'm speaking with someone who cares. I might be able to offer up some helpful wisdom that just might ease someone out of a world of hurt. The topic was relationships that hit the brakes. Very up close and personal - for both of us. Again, I wanted to keep her name out of it.

I used another alias, and offered from recent experience. This time it would be out in the open when I told her about it. Just a day or so before, I'd caught hell for not telling her about those other things I posted. First, she accused that I was just attention-seeking and looking for pity. Next, she went into a grilling about whether I'd loved some ex-girlfriend or not. Then, she worried everyone online would put two and two together and think it was about her.

A month before, she said I was crazy for suggesting the same thing. Reality hit me like a brick. In her eyes, I can do nothing right. I heard the classic words of an abusive person from her: "you don't know when to keep your mouth shut." Her son said it: She IS a total control freak! There really is no way to please her. February 4, five months to the day from that day we fell in love at first sight, I closed the door on any "happily-ever-afters" with that woman. For the rest of the day, I just cried to my guitar.

That night, I took her suggestion. I wanted to see if other people thought I was hanging on to the past in sharing experiences from it. They're offered so a troubled person knows they aren't alone. Generally, folks seemed to be comfortable with it - if the story wasn't simply airing dirty laundry. Most felt if someone felt threatened by an anonymous story, then that person probably had issues and should seek some help. Me and my big mouth.

Throughout the day, it collected answers that didn't agree with hers. That afternoon, my now-ex's meddling friend (in an alias - another one whose reality is computer games) stuck her nose in. She revealed she was the person who'd got us together and slammed me for just stopping contact with her friend. Then, she switched tack to parrot accusations about things she'd only heard from someone else. I have seen (and taken part in) their tag-team actions before....

This poster accused me of stalking my ex, harassing her, threatening her, yelling at her about her kids and various other outright lies. Malicious gossip at its worst! Then, my ex joined into the "debate". Their assault wasn't even co-ordinated. They conflicted with each others' tales. Several members pointed out they had just proven my point in a public forum - but it was still more than enough to paint me the bad guy. It was reported to site administration.

I have the transcripts and messages. My phone records bear me out that I did not call "every ten or fifteen minutes" all week-end - just that once Sunday - despite the ex's charges that my number was on her call display. To my knowledge, she doesn't even have Call Display.

Wednesday and Thursday, in her dateline name, the ex's friend posted snipes to a couple of my posts to keep the fire hot. What is so hard about letting go in people with a lust for control? Again, I reported it to site moderators. Babe's very clever with creative manipulations of fact. As a result, her and her friend got me banned from posting - my means of letting go.

Through my report to site administration, the dateline was aware she frequently accessed her ex's accounts, vandalized his profile and deleted e-mails from ladies he'd met online. His profile was self-deleted. I sent him warning to change his passwords. Did the site tell him more? Has she been caught at this before? They're questions to which I won't get answers. Through a deletion error, she contacted me Sunday. Now, she accused he'd been over and beat her up because of it. I can't believe her any more, but if it really happened, I felt terrible - until her last words rang home.

Heart meds don't make for great libido. In the heat of magic, everything is perfect. Faith is a tonic. At the start of this dream, it wasn't a problem. As the fire went from her eyes, it was. Believe me, it wasn't her - as a woman. It was the cruel and mean games that woman was playing. Hers tore the confidence from several men. Mine started tearing that evening a longing gaze made her guilty. Why did she feel accused by these eyes? Now, words of a lady who'd sworn her love for me said: "What good are you to any woman? You can't even get it up." Is that a little spiteful?...

Following a review, the ban was lifted. I posted my opinion to a board that asked if it was considered cheating if someone played around if they knew the relationship was ending. Maybe she felt her guilt when I responded: the decent thing to do would be end the relationship first, or he/she would just rubbing a soon-to-be ex's nose in it - and yes, it would be cheating. As usual, to her mind, everything I posted was about her. Vanity got me banned again. Did I get my answer?

I couldn't believe the crap she pulled on me in her very public display of drama - then the behind-the-scenes stuff she did with site administration. Wonder what she thought her school-girl stunt really proved aside from temporarily discrediting me. Really, I had no idea what was on her mind. Would she stop at nothing to crush me? For what? All I'd done was love her. Anyone that rabid could be dangerous. What was next on her agenda? It had to be stopped. I have learned one thing from the past - cops get involved when the ante gets upped. They best hear who calls them first.

There are reasons her own sisters and mother have little to do with her. There are reasons she has no real friends - just online buddies. They're not for me to know. Oddly enough, in the way she portrayed her ex in those letters, and in all the abuse she heaped on me, she described herself in detail. That "sweet girl" image I met and fell in love with simply doesn't exist. I can't even like the real her.

She's got her troubles ahead of her yet. She still needs a witness. Owing to the fact that we were broke up, I was no longer her boyfriend. A first year law student can figure it out - attained by means of sexual favour. I'd still testify - just as I promised - but I won't lie to help her win her case. She's just not worth the trade-off.

Am I hurt? I was. That's fading fast. I don't hate her or anything. I'll forgive - but how can I ever forget? A sweet taste from the autumn we loved will linger its lifetime. Part of her is part of me. It was beautiful, but I'd never be comfortable enough to trust in her again. One day, she'll realize what she's lost. Her latest bout of mania seems to coincide with the fact her ex's g/f is pregnant.

I feel for her kids. They're the ones who have to live in the shadow of two immature parents. I suspect they'll either live her life all over again, or face years in counselling to shake free from the imprint of being pawns in a very mean and long-running game. Now, I kiss the dream goodbye. Have a nice life, Babe....