Online Love

Brian, Chris and I were all good friends.  We had met playing the online role playing game Star Wars Galaxies.  Brian and I both got along with Chris very well.  It wasn't long before we were talking everyday even if we didn't play a game together.  He was just someone we liked to talk to.

When I finally got a job on my own in 2005, I continued to talk to Chris everyday by myself.  I would call him on the way to work and on the way home.  We would talk forever.  We just clicked.  At this point, as I have written before, Brian and I just weren't doing that well.  Chris knew all the right things to say.  He often joked that if he wanted me, he could have me.

One day, on the way to work, he said something I didn't expect him to say.  "I'm in love with you Tiffany."  My heart stopped.  I wanted to hear this but at the same time I didn't.  I was with Brian after all.  I was committed to my relationship.  Chris really knew how to throw a wrench in things.

I didn't know how to respond.  I did know that I was quite fond of him as well.  Brian and I were to the point where we weren't a couple anymore, we were just friends that happened to share the same bed.  Chris continued to tell me that he could see me moving up to be with him.  How he would take care of me.  I told him that he had to give me time to think.

Things weren't going so well at home.  For our five year anniversary, Brian passed up intimacy to play a video game. I wasn't sure what either of us were doing in the relationship still.  One day, while at work Brian was messaging me.  He asked what was wrong and I told him that I couldn't talk about it at that time.  He didn't let up.  He wanted to know.

I proceeded to tell him that I didn't want to be together anymore.  This isn't the way I wanted to do it.  I didn't want to break up with the person I thought was the love my life over instant messenger, but he wouldn't let up.  He asked me "Do you still love me?" I was pained by this question, but answered "No."  This wasn't true, I still loved him greatly, but I figured it was better he be hurt so he could move on.

Brian made arrangements to come get his car and I made arrangements for my sister to come get me.  Earlier that morning, I had told Chris that I was more than likely breaking up with Brian.  He was thrilled.  He didn't think Brian treated me all that great anyway.  I knew that maybe I was doing all this for the wrong reasons, but I couldn't get my head around that.

After the break up, I struggled.  Chris and I struggled.  Brian and I struggled.  Brian found out about all my calls to Chris to and from work and automatically assumed that I left him for Chris.  While it was partially true, I had no clue what the future held for me and Chris.  I just knew that Brian and I weren't working anymore.

Over the course of several months, Chris and I started to make plans.  Plans for me to move up there.  It started out with him saying he'd support me until I got a job but quickly changed to I had to have a job to move up there.  Then we would talk about visiting each other to at least meet.  It never happened.

One day, I got so tired of us making plans and not following through that I had my sister drive me to the bus station.  I got my ticket and called Chris.  He didn't answer but I left a message that I was coming.  I was actually on the bus at this time and Chris called.  He told me not to come.  He had too much going on.  He couldn't have a visitor right now.

I refused to listen.  I was coming and he wasn't stopping me.  It took him telling me that if I came, he would not pick me up at the bus station for me to realize I had to get off that bus.  What was I doing?  I was just going to abandon everything and run to him.  The whole experience scared me.  I didn't know it then, but it was things like this that stemmed from my mania.

I was crazy about Chris, but when the chase was over he wasn't so crazy about me.  He would constantly come up with reasons for us not to see each other.  I slowly realized it was all about the chase for him.  That "If he wanted me, he could have me."  He didn't really want me.  He wanted to see if he could get me.

The fighting with Chris and I became worse and worse.  I don't know what exactly caused us to give up, but I know that we did.  We were tired of fighting.  How did someone I hadn't even met yet cause me such pain?  How did I let it get this far?

Chris and I called it quits before we ever got started.  He claimed he loved me, but looking back I'm not so sure.  I thought I loved him, but looking back I'm not sure.  I think he was the scapegoat I needed at the time to get out of my relationship.  I'm not usually one to leave someone if I can't attach myself to someone else immediately.

We will still talk sometimes, but it is very casual.  He ended up moving some other gamer to New York to be with him.  Ironically, he stole her from someone too.  Brian never forgave me for "leaving him for Chris".  I tried to explain to him that Chris wasn't the reason, just the result, but it mattered little.

All of this happened before I was diagnosed.  Would I have done things differently now that I'm aware?  I'm almost positive I would have.  That doesn't really matter in the long run.  I left Brian, and while it might not have been for entirely the right reasons, it was the right thing to do.  Chris hurt me, which I probably deserved.  Karma is funny that way.  I still believe Karma is kicking me in the butt for these things, but I can take it.  I'm ready to see what my future holds for just me, no one else but me.

Waking from a Dream

That had to be the biggest nightmare I have ever had.  It was so real.  It wasn't the kind of nightmare with monsters, it was a dream about something occurring in real life.  Something terrible.  The kind of dream you want to wake up from.

Am I living that nightmare? I can't help but wonder now.  Have you ever had the kind of dream that had you question what was really happening in real life?  That's the kind of dream it was.  I'm so emotional now and all over a dream.

My Time in a Hospital

Depression is usually the least of my problems.  I seem to experience it less than I experience mania.  And if I do experience it, I usually don't stay there long.  In February 2011, it was different.  I was lost.  I wouldn't get out of bed.  I would have breakdowns in front of my children.  I really felt like I didn't want to live.  Why should I stay alive if I'm just going to be in bed all the time?

It eventually came to a head.  The thoughts of suicide were stronger.  I wasn't to the point I wanted to act, but I was thinking about how I would do it.  I finally broke down and told Stephen (my ex husband) to take me to the hospital.

When I arrived at the Emergency Room, they immediately got me into a room.  They made me take off all my clothes and put these horrible paper-like scrubs on.  When I was all changed, I had to wait to speak with the therapist. When she talked to me, she said that her thought was that I should stay in their inpatient hospital.  I was so tired of feeling the way I did that I agreed.

They put me in a wheelchair and wheeled me to the psych ward.  I was only there for a minute or two and I was ready to go home.  Looking around, I could tell this wasn't the place for me.  I looked at the board of "rules".  I saw that visiting hours were only a mere two hours a day.  Really? They are going to keep me from my family that much?  How does that help me?

I was panicked.  Once they finally got me checked in, I called Stephen.  I told him he had to get me out of there.  That this wasn't the place for me.  He told me that he didn't know what he could do, but he would try.  He would come during visiting hours but he couldn't make any promises.

I was sitting with a nurse that was putting my evaluation in the computer when the charge nurse came to me.  This was a woman that shouldn't have been dealing with those with mental problems.  She was cold.  She told me that my husband was here but that he had two kids with him and kids were not allowed on the floor.  Again, I panicked.

I just wanted to see my husband.  I was distraught.  I understood that the kids weren't allowed on the floor, but I wanted my husband.  She was getting ready to send him on his way when the nurse who was checking me in chimed in.  "I can go watch the kids so her husband can see her" she said.  The charge nurse hesitated but allowed it.

When Stephen came back, I was thrilled to see him.  I explained to him that this wasn't the place for me.  I told him that it wasn't going to help me, I needed to be with my family.  He said he had talked to the charge nurse and she said that I would more than likely at least have to stay the night.  I was scared.  I didn't want to stay the night, but after I got back and talked to the charge nurse, I realized that I had no other option.  I would stay the night, but you better believe I was leaving the next day.

I went to bed almost immediately.  I just wanted the night to pass as quickly as possible.  The rooms were like dungeons.  Cylinder block walls, hard cots with hardly a mattress, and pillows without pillow cases.  The bathroom in the room had no lock on the door.  You had no privacy.  I ignored all of these things as much as I could and just laid down to go to sleep.

The night was horrible.  I spent the entire night listening to a guy down the corridor beating on his door and yelling for help.  My roommate was up about every half-hour going to the bathroom.  Sleeping just wasn't going to be possible.  I would fall asleep for short periods of time, but it would never last.

Finally, the morning had come.  I immediately went to figure out when I could see the doctor so that I could get out of there.  They told me that the doctor usually did his rounds between 10 a.m. and 12 p.m.  I waited patiently.  I attended group therapy to show I was willing to get help.  I just needed to see my own doctor, but I had to wait.

The doctor finally came.  He talked to me about my medications, asked about my mental state and then told me that I would need to stay at least a week.  Unacceptable.  I told him I had to leave, and I would even sign an AMA (Against Medical Advice) to do so.  He said he didn't know if that were possible and that he would get back to me.

While I waited, I talked to people, attended group therapy, and met with a therapist.  Everyone pretty much agreed that I didn't need to be there.  I waited and waited for word from the doctor.  I approached the charge nurse on multiple occasions telling her I was waiting to hear for the word to go home.  She would listen to me, but then go about her business.  I just sat in a chair where she would have no choice but to see me.

One time when she was walking out of the nurses station, she stopped to talk to me.  She said "You know if you leave AMA insurance won't pay for this."  I informed her that I had no insurance so that didn't really matter.  I would go to group, but then I would be right back in that chair.  Needless to say, the fact that I didn't have insurance was probably what got me out of there.  One of the other nurses that was so nice to me came out of the nurses station and signaled to me to come to her.

I walked over to the desk she was sitting at.  "I vouched for you, all you have to do is sign these AMA papers and you're out of here." I  thanked her profusely.  I asked to call my husband to come get me.  I was just waiting around, talking to some of the people that were so kind to me, that charge nurse not being one of them. Finally I asked her what I should do.  She said she'd get me my belongings and I could go.  After I told her that I had no belongings she said "Then you have to get off the floor." and shooed me out the door.

I wondered the halls and waited for Stephen to get there.  I got asked many times if I could be helped.  After all I was wondering the halls with no shoes and paper scrubs. Finally, I saw them.  Stephen and the girls were walking down the hall.  When the girls saw me, they ran.  I hugged them like I had been gone for years.  I was just so relieved to be out of there.

The state of mental health facilities should be more advanced by now.  They should be designed to help people.  That place was not.  I went to my own psychiatrist and with a medicine change I was back to normal.  They weren't doing anything for me in that place.  They didn't attempt to change my meds or do anything that would help me.  They were just going to hold me there, away from my family until they got their money.  When they realized there was no money to get out of me, I was sent on my way.

I will never forget this experience as long as I live.  I will especially never forget that charge nurse that was just so cold.  If you aren't in the line of work to help people, why even get into that field?  I guess there is the money.  Money is great, but there are just certain professions you go into for other reasons.  If you have no desire to help someone in need, maybe you should at least pick a different specialty. 

While I will never forget her coldness, I will always remember those nurses and techs that were so kind to me.  The nurse who watched my children and came back with drawings from them that they drew for me.  The nurse that vouched for me to leave.  The techs that sat and talked to me and understood that I didn't belong there.  Those are the people that are in the right place.  I just think the system works against them.  They want to help, but will the system let them?

Just to Feel Happy

Yesterday was a great day.  I had gotten my money from school.  I had found out about a temporary job that will help a lot with bills. I had fun.  It was great.  No more than things started to settle down for the day, I started to feel it come on.  Mania.  The rise of mood had rose too far. 

It seems like I just can't feel happy without it going too far.  It always seems to trigger something more.  A racing heart, speeding thoughts.  It was so bad, I just had to go to bed in hopes of stopping it before it got too bad.  I slept the entire night.  When I woke very early this morning, I can still feel it.  I'm hoping it won't last.

As someone who struggles with Bipolar, I just want to feel happy.  I want to get excited about things and not have it go so far that I feel manic.  When I'm manic I eventually crash, I hate crashing.  It is always a constant fight to keep my emotions and moods from going to the extreme.  I hate this more than anything.  This is the kind of thing that makes me feel so abnormal.

Do you ever get like this?  Does extreme happiness trigger a manic episode for you?  Does extreme sadness trigger depression? I'm sure I'm not the only one.

The Story of Brian - Part Two

After a lot of work, we moved my grandparents into a house they had rented.  We moved in with them.  We had to find a job to help out.  Brian at this point didn't want us to work separate, so we went on the hunt for something we could get together.  We were able to find a cleaning job that was willing to hire us both.  At the time, cleaning toilets was better than no job at all. 

We were not at this job very long due to some events that occurred while working there.  That's another story entirely.  After losing this job, we went to work for his dad, Robert.  Robert had just started a business after being out of work himself.  We agreed to help with the day to day tasks and in exchange we received a portion of the profits.  This seemed to going well and we were excited.

Robert and Brian butted heads a lot, so it wasn't long and they had a falling out.  Brian and I left the company at this point.  Brian was determined to start his own business so that is what we did.  It was slightly successful.  We weren't making a ton of money, but we were making enough.  My grandparents had decided to move south and said that they would turn the house over to us.  We slowly started taking over all the bills.

Robert and Brian made up and Robert asked us to come back to work for him which we agreed.  We brought the product we had created with us.  This benefited Robert greatly.  Our compensation combined was nice.  We weren't going to have to worry about money much.  We did start to wonder if my grandparents were actually moving.  We had been paying all the bills but they hadn't gone anywhere.  Brian told me he was done dealing with it and told me I had to give them an ultimatum.  They were to help us with bills or move like they planned.  They chose to move.

Brian and I stayed at the house for about a year.  It wasn't the perfect place, but it was ours.  The first house we ever had to ourselves.  The more money we made, the more we wanted to do something different.  Brian had a befriended a co-worker who was looking for a place to live.  He had moved for the job.  The three of us agreed to find an apartment together.  We found a gorgeous apartment, that was quite large.  We were moving into the only place we got on our own.  It was a great feeling.

This is the point of the story that makes a turn for the worst.  Brian and I had money, we had a nice place to live, great friends, but we were distant.  It was as if we were just going through the motions.  I had made so many friends at work, but one of those friends became very dear to me.  Mackie was in Tech Support and I talked to him a lot.  He was a very unusual character, but intriguing. 

Robert had to lay off most of the Tech Support people.  Mackie was one of them.  The day that Robert laid off everyone Mackie walked in on top of the world, he had just bought a car.  Everything crashed around him quickly.  I tried to comfort him as much as I could.  I was his friend, I wanted to help.  Before he left, we exchanged contact information in hopes of staying in touch.

This was probably a horrible decision.  Mackie and I talked, and we talked a lot.  For whatever reason, I kept this friendship from Brian.  He was always extremely protective and most of the time very jealous.  I just thought it was better to not tell him.  Brian and I weren't doing well.  Most nights I would fall asleep watching TV on the couch.  When Brian went to bed he would just leave me there.  We were about as far apart as a couple could get.

Mackie and I slowly started flirting.  He was saying all the things Brian wasn't.  He made me feel good.  I wanted to feel better.  I arranged things so that I could leave Brian, and be with Mackie.  I rented a car, a hotel room and packed my things.  It was about 6 a.m. and I walked out the door without even a note or any indication to Brian why I had left.  I walked about a mile and a half to where Mackie picked me up. 

This decision was rash, and I definitely didn't think about my actions ahead of time.  Looking back, I was very manic.  I wish I had known.  Mackie took me to get my rental car and then followed me back to the hotel.  He waited in the room while I ran to the store.  When I got back, I took a shower.  Was I really doing this?  I had left Brian and was really getting ready to make love to Mackie.  What was wrong with me?

Unfortunately, I really didn't give it enough thought.  Brian had been calling off and on throughout the day.  He wanted to know where I was.  I would not talk to him.  Finally while Mackie and I were very much preoccupied, he started calling non-stop.  I apologized to Mackie, but I had to answer the phone.  When I answered, Brian was hysterical.   He said he just wanted to talk and that I should come home just to talk.  I agreed even if it didn't make Mackie the happiest camper.

When I got to the house Brian was very emotional.  I tried talking to him and telling him how I felt, but he just couldn't understand.  In his frustration, he threw my purse across the room and punched the wall.  I comforted him.  I told him I would go back to the hotel and get my things.  I would be back soon.  If only that had been the truth.

When I got back to the hotel, Mackie said all the right things.  Before you knew it, we were trying to pick up where we left off.  My promise to Brian to come home just didn't even cross my mind.  The phone calls started again.  Mackie asked me not to answer, but I couldn't ignore the continuous ringing.  When I answered Brian was more distraught than before.  He said that he didn't want to live anymore.  While this was just to get my attention, I didn't take any chances. 

Mackie called 911 while I kept Brian on the phone until the police arrived.  I hung up and laid next to Mackie.  The motivation to continue where we left off just wasn't there.  We just laid there.  I had no clue what I was doing.  It was all a blur.  I had rented a car, a hotel room and left with another man.  All Brian knew was that Mackie picked me up and took me to my rental car.  He had no clue that Mackie was still with me.

It wasn't long and my phone was ringing again.  It was Brian and he was mad.  He couldn't believe I called the police and that he had to go to the hospital.  They did a psych evaluation and he was fine.  He had to call his mom for a ride home.  He was very upset about this.  He said I had to come home.  I told him I couldn't because I didn't trust his actions.  We agreed to meet that evening for dinner at the place we met.  He said I owed him that much.

I got ready for dinner, told Mackie I'd be back and off I went.  When I got to the restaurant, it became clear just what I had done.  What kind of person was I?  I just got up and walked away after two and a half years.  I told Brian how I felt.  I told him I didn't feel that close to him anymore.  I told him that I just reacted to that feeling.  He begged me to come home with and I agreed.  He said that he wasn't letting me go back to the hotel alone this time, he wanted to be sure I would come home.  I excused myself to the bathroom where I called Mackie and told him to get out.

I hadn't told Brian that Mackie was there or what had happened.  I had hurt him so badly already I didn't want to put salt on the wound so to speak. We just went and got my things and went home.  He was going to try harder.  I didn't know at that point how much the guilt would eat me alive.  I just wanted to give my relationship with Brian the chance it deserved.

To make this story a little shorter, the next year I spent trying to cover-up this huge lie.  I was so guilty that I left Brian numerous times.  I just couldn't tell him the truth.  It would kill him to know.  I was trying to preserve what was left of us.  Finally, on the third time I decided to leave Brian his best friend told me that if I left he would tell Brian everything.

Everyone knew about Mackie and I.  Everyone but Brian.  He had no clue.  I was done and ready to run away, so I told his best friend that whatever he had to do, do it.  I was spent from the sleepless nights, the lying, the deception.  Brian helped me pack my things and took me to my grandparents.  I had left so many times now, he was numb.  He just accepted it.  He helped me unload my stuff and he was gone without as much of a word. 

I spent most of my time wondering when the bomb was going to hit.  Brian wasn't talking to me much.  That was understandable, I had just walked out for the third time.  I can't remember how much time had passed, but one day I got a message from him on messenger.  He told me what his best friend told him and asked if it were true.  When I said it was true he used some select words and then he was gone.

A year of hiding this from him and it was over.  While sad, I couldn't help but feel a little relieved.  This was too big of a secret to keep from anyone.  What kind of person does this to the person they supposedly love?  What was wrong with me?  Someone with Bipolar Disorder does this.  I didn't know that then.  I pretty much just assumed I was a cold person.  I thought I wasn't capable of loving someone enough to make it work.  Besides, this wasn't my first failed relationship and I was only 23.  I just couldn't get it right.

I'm not sure the reasoning, but somehow Brian finding out about what had happened awakened something inside him.  He ended up driving an hour and a half in a snow storm to pick me up so that we could spend the night together.  I hadn't felt that passion from him in so long.  It was great.  I didn't know how my actions had brought us to this place, but I wasn't about to change a thing.  When I asked him what this meant for us, he replied with "I don't care what is right or wrong, this feels right." 

We managed to stay together for a total of five years.  There was a lot of things that happened in that last two years, but it's not important.  The important part is that I walked away after 5 years, after everything we'd been through, for another man. A man I still to this day have never met in person.  It was irrational, probably a manic episode, but that's what happened.  It didn't work out with that other man either as I pretty much guessed. This has been a little over 6 years now.  We are both in better places, but my regret is still there.

I still look back and see a cold person, but now I also see someone that was struggling with a mental illness that she had no clue that she had.  I broke two hearts in that situation.  Neither person will talk to me to this day.  Everyone says to leave the past in the past, but it is very hard when the person you were in the past was a sick, sick person.  Why didn't I see it then?  Even today, without medication, I'm more aware of this person.  I make my decisions more rationally than I ever did back then.  The key is awareness.  Brian, I am so sorry I wasn't aware.

Would you walk away?

I will finish my Brian story soon, but there is something on my mind.

If there was someone you loved more than life itself and there was no way they would ever feel the same, what would you do?  Would you walk away? Could you just take it for what it is?  Could you be happy just being with that person? 

A lot of people are put in a situation that is not good for them emotionally.  Some people are strong and hold on forever.  Some let go.  Some are able to put themselves first no matter what.  Some people put everyone else first.  Is one way better than the other?

I've known people in this situation.  Everyone deals with it differently.  Can we control who we love and who we don't?  In most situations, it would be beneficial to be able to control it.  You want to love that person that is just great for you, who treats you great.  You want the person that doesn't feel anything for you to just see you for the great person you are.  Neither person in this situation wins.

So would you walk away?  Could you walk away?

The Story of Brian - Part One

This morning I have been sifting through a list of the stories I wanted to tell.  I couldn't quite make up my mind so I decided on the the story of Brian and I.  This is a relationship that had a deep impact on me.  I try to pretend as if it didn't sometimes, but when you share five years of your life with someone, it's hard to deny it.  I wish I had known of my bipolar disorder back then, but no regrets as we are both in better places now.

It was the year 2000.  I was trying my hardest to get over Zac and move on with my life.  While I was surfing the internet, I stumbled across Match.com and decided to try their three day trial.  I did it mostly as joke thinking that nothing could really come of it.  It wasn't long and Brian had messaged me and we agreed to talk on Yahoo! Messenger.  I talked to so many people at that point in time that when he messaged me, I sort of blew him off unintentionally.

A few days later, we talked again.  He told me that he thought I was rude and I apologized.  We talked for hours on end, days on end for a few weeks before deciding to meet in person.  He didn't have a car at the time so he had his cousin bring him to meet me.  We first met in a grocery store parking lot and then moved to the Mexican restaurant that wasn't far away.  Everything seemed to be going great.  We really connected and I was excited.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I would drive to his parents house that was about 45 minutes away and sneak in late at night.  We'd watch movies and talk.  I would eagerly await his first kiss which he was hesitant on.  Finally one night he kissed me, I was instantly in love.  He was perfect. He was kind, smart and incredibly funny.  I couldn't help but feel as if I had "hit the jackpot" so to speak.

I started to come pick him up and take him to my place sometimes.  We had so much fun.  I was eager to take our relationship to the next level intimately, but he made me wait as long as he could.  He always was testing me and making me think about my actions.  I had never had someone care about me so much.  It was great or so I thought.

One day I wanted him to come to my house so off I went to pick him up.  We were headed back to my house when the car broke down.  We somehow managed to get a ride to the local gas station where I thought he would stay by my side.  He quickly called his parents to come get him. When his parents arrived he introduced us as we had never met.  Both of them seemed uninterested in me or anything I had to say.  The circumstances were unusual.  Brian was married, separated, but married.  Most people thought Brian needed to continue fighting for his marriage and his child, but he was spent and just wanted to move on with his life.

I waited at that gas station for hours for someone to come pick me up.  Brian apologized profusely for leaving me and not keeping me company, but I promised it wasn't a problem.  I may have been lying, but this relationship was so new and I didn't want to lose it just yet.  With that being the case, my actions should have probably been a little more responsible. 

Brian was at my house and Zac had been telling me he was going to commit suicide.  I brushed it off most of the time, but the one time he said he was going through with it; I immediately called the police. Brian had to sit around while I called the police, called his parents and dealt with this whole situation.  He was quite understanding.  It's not like I could help it really, but there was a part that I could help.  Zac was constantly asking for me at the hospital, but I refused to go.  Once he got out, he insisted I meet him for lunch.

Everything would have been okay, but I chose to lie about where I was going.  In chat, I told Brian I had to go help my grandma with something and went to lunch.  The lunch was Zac trying his hardest to get me back.  He begged and he pleaded, but I was devoted to Brian.  We finished our lunch and walked to our cars.  He tried to kiss me, which of course I didn't allow.  We got in our cars and left.  I immediately felt horrible about lying to Brian so when I arrived home I jumped on the computer and told him everything.  He was upset that I didn't tell him the truth from the beginning.  This was strike one against me.

One day while talking to him on chat, he proceeded to get into a fight with his Mom in which he told her some very offensive words.  She reacted by telling him that he needed to leave.  I talked to my mom and asked if it was okay for Brian to come stay with us for a while.  I told her he didn't have anywhere else to go, but mainly I was thinking of myself.  I wanted him with me all the time.  She agreed and off I went to pick him up.

Once Brian moved in he started looking for a job to help out.  It wasn't long and he was working at a local computer shop.  I had just got a new job too, things seemed to be going well.   One day, while Brian was in the shower I was talking to a guy I had went on one date with.  We were just jokingly talking about how if we weren't married in 10 years that maybe we would marry each other.  I thought nothing of it, but apparently the guy did.  He tried to continue to talk to me while I got in the shower. He had no clue, but he was talking to Brian.  This guy was asking to go out with me.  That was  NOT part of the conversation, but it was enough to upset Brian and give him another reason not to trust me.  This was strike two.

We seemed to be making it through everything.  We had both lost our jobs, but our relationship was still strong.  My mom and her husband had chosen to move south so Brian and I were forced to move in with my grandparents.  The more significant thing I remember at this time was finding out that Brian had yet another child on the way.  One he was not going to be able to be there for the birth of.  He struggled with this a lot.  I tried to be as supportive as I could, maybe too supportive at times.  At one time, he thought that maybe he should just go back to his wife.  While I was upset by this, I encouraged him to do what he needed to do.

While he was sleeping one night, I wrote him a little letter and told him that if fixing his marriage was what he needed to do, then he should do it.  I didn't want to be the person standing in his way of his family.  I didn't have children at the time and could not relate, so it was a difficult process.  Once he read the letter he told me that I couldn't make the decision for him and that he wasn't going anywhere.  I was his life now. 

While at my grandparents we were struggling to find work.  His dad had an idea of all of us traveling the country together.  The one stipulation: Brian and I had to learn programming so that we could do contract jobs all over the country.  We decided to try it and moved in with his parents while we tried learning programming.  We were both struggling with it.  It just wasn't the thing for either of us.  That's when we found Flash.  We both loved flash.  Brian was a graphic artist anyway so he was instantly enthralled by it.

When we told his Dad that we didn't think we could do programming and he said we had to go then because he couldn't support us.  We had to move in with my mom who lived pretty far from where we wanted to be.  While living there Brian tried to start a business doing design and Flash work.  I got a job at the local pizza place to try to keep our heads above water.  Everything was going well for a short period of time.  One day, Brian and my sister go into an argument and he used that colorful language he had used with his mom before.  My step father told Brian to get out.  I of course wasn't letting him go by himself.  It was back to my grandparents.  They had recently been foreclosed on and needed the help moving anyway.

-----There is much, much more to come in the long story of Brian and I.--------