My Dear Stranger (5 page)
18 years old
*****
I was cutting myself often then. I couldn't really control the urge to cut myself, at least not when I was alone at home. Sometimes I did it at school with my metal ruler down my thighs, or sometimes with my keys, but usually I could refrain at school so no one could see what I was doing.
At home alone was different though. At home there were too many implements available to me. Alone at home there were too many sources of release. Alone at home there was too much freedom to refrain from fixing myself.
At home, I could sneak my parent’s alcohol and drink alone in my room, or I could use the knife under my bed to cut my legs until I felt better. So I did.
I don't know why I had to do either, but I know I always felt better afterward. The minute I felt the physical pain and saw the blood I was instantly better. If I was stressed, or tense, or scared or lonely, it helped. And afterward I was distracted from my feelings because I had to take care of the wounds. I had to focus on hiding the injuries. I had to think about what I would say if someone actually saw the wounds, so I was distracted by mending my body and focussing on any explanations I may have to come up with as an excuse. The wounds were a release and an escape for me.
Thinking about it now, I'm pretty sure I wasn't a 'Cutter' though. I didn't cut myself because I liked it. I didn't crave the cutting itself, but rather the feelings that occurred afterward. I think I just used cutting myself as the means to the release I needed.
If there had been anything else I could’ve done I'm sure I would have tried it. And alcohol helped. So if my parents were away and I could get drunk in my room, I did that for the release I needed instead.
But I know I was never a Cutter per se, I was just an escapist who used cutting as the means to the end.
CHAPTER 5
Stretching my arms overhead, I’m aching. I have no idea what time it is, or how long I’ve been in the garage. I feel like I just started this thing, yet I’m pretty sure I’ve been at it for a while.
Walking into my home I realize a bathroom break is definitely needed and another coffee is mandatory. I’m cold and tired, but I really want to finish this tonight.
After nuking my coffee and using the facilities, I realize I’ve been at this quite a long time. I don’t know the actual time of night, but I’m sure it’s nearing midnight. I should probably check my messages,
but I don’t really want to hear Jamie’s sweet little voice tonight, especially knowing I didn’t wish him a goodnight at his bedtime, which would also be another first for me.
I have never been without my son, and I have never not fed him at bedtime, nor tucked him in and kissed all over his little face before he slept. I have never been without my son, and after this weekend I know I never want to be without him again. Jamie is mine, and I love him too much to ever be without him again.
Grabbing a blanket from the hall closet, I wrap it around my waist and prepare for more of this. I know I have to complete this. I know I have to get this done this weekend. It’s time for us.
Entering my garage, I’m a little disgusted by the smoky smell but I ignore it. There’s always time to air it out
before my guys return to me. So grabbing one more outdoor pillow I prop it in the lounger and sit back down while sipping my favorite coffee.
Thinking about my past is weird for me. I don’t really feel like this was my past because my present is so different. Everything in my world is so wonderful now. Everything is totally planned and scheduled, and I don’t ever walk around aimlessly like I did back then. I know these were my earlier years but I feel very much removed from them.
This is a very strange
feeling for me, but eventually I light another cigarette and settle in for more. It’s time.
My Dear Stranger VI
Last night as I screamed within my nightmare panic, your haunting image increased my suffering. I wanted you to be with me. I needed you to be here for me.
I have moved again. Unsteady in my homes and unlikely to stay for long, I have moved once again. Yet, with the move before you had found me. Creeping quietly into my room, gently into my new bed, you finally came home to me.
When you found me you smiled at my fear. When you found me we held each other in my new residence. Should I again fear your absence with this move? Should I question your ability to find me? Should I question your love? Should I cry as I wait for your arrival?
I want to smile at my insecurity but I can't. Where are you? Where have you been for so long? What has taken you so long to find me?
Together, we have never been so absent from each other. Love used to hold us so close. Each challenge and each brutality strengthened our love. You used to cherish each moment we spent together. You adored my neurotic insecurity. You comforted my pain. You caressed my untouched body. You pushed my inability to express myself. You loved my body. You loved my breath. You loved me, completely.
My tears are again streaming. My mind is again screaming. Where are you? Why have you not come to me?
Time endures. Days are blurred. Your absence depresses. My life is pain filled and my heart suppresses… this agony.
I will attempt sleep once more, though I know this sleep can only be torture and pain without you here as you haven't been for more than half a year.
I love you and I miss you, my stranger, my dear.
November 1998
18 years old
*****
I had started college by that time and I had moved out of my parents’ home. I was alone, officially. I was now completely and totally alone in my own home.
It’s funny to me now how I thought of that time as being truly alone, but in reality I had always been alone. I had an inde
pendence my friends didn’t have, but envied. I had an independence from the emotional attachments some friends needed with their parents. I didn’t need friends or family, and I never needed attachments… except to Him.
And I remember that apartment so well. I loved it. It was the perfect apartment for someone like me. It was in a small building, but a four-square type building with a landing in between each
neighbor therefore we were only beside one other neighbor, allowing for a certain amount of privacy that I loved. And with very high ceilings and thick walls, I never heard the neighbors above or below.
It truly was a wonderful apartment for someone like me who wanted her
privacy desperately.
So I was officially alone, but my friends from high school still visited and partied with me. They came over. They drank with me and danced and sang. We were young enough to still feel like kids partying like adults. We felt young and free and we loved the fact that one of us had an adult apartment t
o party in. So we partied. And while I partied I faked being a typical 18 year old very well.
I drank with my friends, and I acted like any other 18 year old girl on the surface. I was normal. I went to college and I came home and crashed in the afternoon to prepare myself for all my friends arriving at my door by 8:30 to start pre-drinking
before we hit the bars we loved with the fake ID’s we cherished.
And overall I was truly okay. I was
lonely at night, waiting on His visits, but the loneliness of the days were filled superficially with being 18, hanging out with girlfriends, drinking in the evenings, and having a certain amount of fun to occupy my time.
But my nightly
ritual continued. I showered and shaved, while I waited for Him to come for me. I begged in my bed and I cried in my living room. I said pseudo-prayers, and made deals with god. I was desperate at night. I was the desperate version of myself that I hid in the day from my friends. I was always waiting for Him to come to me with a desperation that was numbing.
I was always waiting with a certain anxiety based on
fearing He didn’t know where I was. When my parents moved the year before to a nicer home around the corner from our previous home, I was afraid. I thought for sure He wouldn’t find me. I went into full panic mode every night while I waited to tell Him of our quick move. I waited but didn’t see Him again before we did actually move into my parents’ new home.
Amazingly, the
very first night of our move He came to me though. Amazingly, He knew where we were and He came to me happily. He came to me that first night and I didn’t have to suffer the
what ifs
or the
oh no’s
of Him not knowing where I was. He came to me immediately after that move.
Yet this move was different. I had lived in my new apart
ment for nearly 4 months and He still hadn’t come to me. I spent every single night torn up in knots of anxiety based on the fear of His absence. I spent 4 months with the same hygiene ritual, waiting for the night He came to me. I waited each night for my stranger to come back to me.
Until finally He
did come to me.
**
***
My Dear Stranger V
II
As always desired, my dear stranger came to me last night with opened arms and a beautiful smile. Waking from a light rest, I was delighted to find Him in my room waiting for me, as I often wait for Him.
This visit I so desperately needed, because my heart ached, and my body craved my stranger’s touch. I had felt like He hadn’t touched me in years. And though it had only been a few months since He had last came to me, I was unsure and frightened that my stranger no longer knew where I lived. Upon my quick departure from my house I was unable to tell Him of my move because of the suddenness with which I had left. However, with no reason to doubt, He had known where I now stay and He had come to me once again.
Moments were given to only gazing at each other, as our eyes filled with tears of joy. For me, my stranger is so unbelievably beautiful, I find I often have no words to describe His strength and love for me. And I have tried. I have tried to describe this great man in this book, but I have yet to find words which can describe with worthiness all that He is to me.
Jumping from my bed in a desperate attempt to feel Him, I ran into His opened arms as He held me so tightly. When our lips kissed passionately time stood still for us.
Slowly my stranger lifted my gown and stared contentedly at my naked body. Touching and caressing, His hands roamed my body as only His hands could- As only His hands I would allow.
He cupped my breasts gently as His eyes held my own. Gently, He held my back and laid me onto our bed. And in that moment I felt so anxious, my body trembled and my breath became short and hard. God I loved Him, every part of Him.
He began touching my skin slowly like a gentle interlude as to the pleasure that was to come for us.
He kissed me slowly down my nape, around my breasts, teasing my erect nipples with His tongue. Moving slowly, my stranger made His way between my legs. And frightened, I held still. I trust Him completely, and I trusted Him then, but I was nervous by this intimacy. Silently, I held my breath as He opened me up with His fingers.
When I felt His warm tongue move around my body as His fingers plunged inside me I found myself moaning and crying out for His love. Never could I have imagined this feeling. Never could I have imagined this pleasure. There was something so brutal in its beauty for me. That moment between us was something I couldn't understand, but I didn't care. I didn't care because love and trust plays such a powerful role in this amazing passion we share.
After a time, with my body heightened and sensitized beyond my ability, I begged my stranger to love me. I begged Him to make love to me.
And as the intensity of that moment had nearly given me over to climax, His lips devoured my body and His tongue left only a trail of eroticism in its wake. Eventually, my heart raced and my soul screamed out for Him, as my orgasm flowed freely for Him. Hours escaped from the world and they stayed only between us.
Weakened, my heart beckoned for my dear stranger as my lips covered His entire body. I felt manic and intense as I grabbed and kissed Him everywhere, but no love making occurred.
Staring once more into my eyes, my stranger smiled as one beautiful tear fell for me. And I knew how He felt. Sometimes our love just couldn't contain itself. Often my own heart felt like it would explode, or simply stop from the intensity of our love.
Eventually I realized I had been repeating over and over, continuously in a gently whisper, 'I love you, I love you, I love you...' until He lay down beneath me, wrapping His arms so tightly around me.
Finally, after minutes of silence I heard His beautiful voice speak to me as he whispered, “I love you as well.”
His words. God, those five words echoed in my mind, creating a hallucinatory effect on me. Suddenly crying within my happiness, He held His arms tighter around me, and feeling such tranquility within His embrace, I found sleep was inevitable.
When I awoke this morning to a bright warm sun, my smile gleamed like that of a small child, but my heart ached too. I could still feel my stranger's arms holding me tight, safely protecting and loving me, even in His absence.
God, He is so beautiful to me, words could never describe, and I love Him more than my own life.
Rising from our bed, I will hold His memory close as I wait for my dear stranger's return.
January 1999
18 years
old
Oh, I remember that night. I remember Him loving me like that. I remember my shock at the act and my shock at my reaction. Before that night I didn’t know what oral sex felt like and I didn’t know how amazing it could be. But I remember learning all my firsts with Him.
And it really was amazing. Even my memory is as clear as it was then and I can still feel it. I remember the desperation, and the building, and the fear, and panic, and then the insane, ultimate release. I remember screaming and crying and pulling Him to me. I remember it today as it was then.
And I know I have never had a f
eeling quite like that since Him. Of course I have felt, and I have experienced pleasure, but not like that. I have never had that kind of intensity with another. I don’t even know how to. I’m much too reserved in my adult life to release like that, and I’m much too adult to submit to a pleasure as carnal and physical as that release was for me.
Remembering that night I’m suddenly aware of myself and my surroundings. I’m stunned to find myself on the edge of orgasm, with my hand in my leggings and my knees wide on the arms of the lounger and I’m almost there. Thinking back, I remember the intensity of His eyes as He watched me come undone. Watching, He waited until I was barely coherent before pushing me over the edge. I remember the feeling…
Oh god…
I can’t believe I’ve just orgasmed and released in my garage in a lounge chair. Laughing, I’m a little stunned at my behavior. I hope I was quiet. Oh god, if my neighbors heard me I think I’ll have to move. My husband wouldn’t even believe me if I told him what I’ve just done and why we have to move. Actually, he wouldn’t believe any of this at all. Nothing. None of this.
God
, I need another smoke. A total cliché I know, but the truth nonetheless. Horribly embarrassed, I have to use the little sink in the garage to wash my hands of my release, and drying them on my huge sweater, I shake while lighting another cigarette.
Pausing, with a cigarette in hand I just can’t seem to stop mys
elf. I need another hit of Him.
My Dear Stranger VIII
Last night my dear stranger came to visit me. It had seemed like an eternity since we last touched and I feared He had lost my love far away, but finally He had returned to me.
Quietly, He crept into our bedroom, as I awoke slowly to His gentle kisses on my thighs while His head lie nestled between my legs. Slightly startled I stared at Him as I settled. Moments faded between us until finally He looked into my eyes in return. And oh, my stranger's eyes were wide and clear and no sadness came with Him, only His love was present in His eyes.
Kissing my thighs, His mouth made its way up my body. Slowly, tenderly I shuddered with sheer excitement. How long had it been since His kisses? How long since His warm embrace held me tightly?
Moving slowly toward my lips, my stranger lifted my silken nightdress off my shoulders as our lips met. Crawling until He towered over me, He kissed my lips and eyelids, while my heart pounded under His touch.
The cool night air brushed against my skin hardening my nipples, while sending a shiver up my spine. And I watched Him smile at my anticipation.
Pulling me upward gently, straightening His legs around my waist, my stranger met my smiles with His sweet kisses. Stripping my stranger of His clothing, I touched His chest with my anxious fingers as we stared at one another, until suddenly my dearest lit a lone candle next to us.
And though the light was dim, I felt something new. Something of panic. Something I had never felt before with my dear stranger.
Tightening my grip on His waist I lowered my head as I tried desperately to hide my breasts and stomach, and my face. I was desperate to hide all of myself.
Confused and looking a little saddened by my sudden insecurity, my stranger gently raised my chin as He stared deep into my eyes. Moving my arms to my sides, He smiled a beautiful reassuring smile, as He touched my breasts and kissed my lips once again.
Gradually looking down at my naked body, my stranger helped me feel beautiful in His eyes again.
Leaning backward, I rested my head upon my pillows as I watched my stranger touch and love my entire body.
My stranger's firm yet delicate hands held my neck still as He slowly eased downward. Across my breasts He teased my nipples. Resting His head upon my stomach He kissed my navel until His tongue eased lower and His hands roamed. Suddenly, my body thrust uncontrollably with near climax against Him as His fingers entered me quickly.
My stranger then pulled me upward, watching my face carefully until I sat in front of His sculpted body- a body which had come to please me, as no other could.
Sliding His hands under my body, He gripped me firmly, lifting me gently, while lowering me onto His body. With eased penetration, I moaned and grasped for His body as He held my gaze so intensely.
And the ecstasy I felt was amazing. Every part of my body, every sense, every muscle felt Him within me. Stretching and burning, I felt Him engulf me. I couldn't remove the smile from my lips even as we kissed.
Our eyes were wide, looking for one another's soul. Our hearts were pounding in sensual rhythm. But all I felt was His body deep inside me.
My dear stranger was gentle and loving. He touched my body softly as I rocked against Him and cried out in pleasure. Tears began trickling down my stranger's face as we grabbed and held each other so close.
Eventually, I lied backwards as He moved His strong legs back so He once again towered over me.
Bracing His arms and kissing my lips, we danced to each other’s desire with thrusts and sweet sighs.
And no pain was felt. No laughter was cruel. No insecurity resurfaced. Just beautiful love-making occurred as hours were spent together.
With His hands so gentle on my body, I screamed my climax as I kissed my stranger and groped at His flesh. Nothing could have been more perfect last night.
Sometime later, holding me tightly against His chest my stranger leaned on His side and carried a flower up the back of my thighs, across my backside, as He gently caressed my bare skin. Placing the flower against my lips, I turned and kissed Him with such passion, I felt my heart actually swell within my chest.
After long soothing kisses, I felt my body growing weak as my eyes grew heavy. And after receiving one last sweet kiss from my stranger, I fell quickly asleep in His arms.
When I awoke this morning I felt the same momentary loneliness and confusion following all His visits. As always my heart ached for His delicate touch and soft kisses. Confused, I panicked for a moment wondering if He had come to me at all, or had the memories been merely another dream of Him in the night.
However, when I picked up my folded nightdress, a sweet smelling flower fell from the silk and I knew my dear stranger had come for me, as He would again soon.
February 1999
18 years old
And those were our times together. Countless. Endless. I was only 18 years old but I made love like an adult. I never suffered the backseat shame my friends did. I never lived through the drunken debacles of my peers. I was a teenage woman who made love with her adult lover.
And no one knew. I was the pretty, popular, smart, fun girl who got drunk at
college parties but kept her legs tightly closed. I was a challenge to some and a mystery to others. I was Sadie who didn’t put out, but had fun regardless.
I lived in a strange world where everyone thought I was a prude and a certified virgin for life, but I knew the truth. I was loved and adored. I was a woman who understood passion with a man, and making love with a soul mate.
And then my world ended.
