The Eleventh Post

Well, Merry Christmas out there. I really don't know what I was thinking. While I enjoyed the interaction with others during my short tenure as a pizza delivery guy (as well as the substantial tips), I realized having a job of any kind is pointless for me. I don't know when it will happen, but my life will soon be over.

Part of me feels like I should continue the job as a distraction, but when a certain Toyota Corolla parked near the pizza joint with someone inside for the entire duration of my shift, I felt for the sake of my own safety and anonymity, I should bow out. It didn't take them long to find me. I suspect their network is quite large and someone in it recognized me. Whether I like it or not, they know who I am. Fortunately, no one has shown up in this hotel yet (the guy standing outside a few days ago hasn't returned as far as I can tell).

So that position was far too public for my sake. I need to finish this story so it's out there. That way, at least someone will know what happened to Tara and what happened to me when I'm gone.

Things were quiet for us after we moved in together. She did her thing, and I did mine. The only thing she ever asked of me was whether I could crack a website's user name and password list. I won't say the site, but it turned out to be fairly easy. I went through a couple of anonymous proxies and it was no more than an SQL injection to get what she wanted. No one was any the wiser (except her, who now had their entire user name/password list). I did ask why she wanted me to do this instead of whoever she might have on their end that would be able to. All she told me was that she trusted me. At the time and even now, I can't help but wonder how true that statement was.

The real change came in when I got an email from an ex. This was someone I knew back in my military days, and I'd dated for a little while before I left the Army and she stayed in Colorado Springs, where I was stationed at the time. It wasn't an in-depth relationship by any means. We both acknowledged it as something we had fun with at the time, but wouldn't last if either one of us had to move around to make it work. So I returned to Broken Arrow, and she seemed glad to be rid of me. Not that I was a bad guy, but after being spoiled by the military, I didn't really know how to take care of myself, so I returned home to live with my parents for awhile.

Adopted parents, actually. They told me when I was sixteen that I was adopted, and that my birth parents were too young to care for me when they gave me up. I wasn't the type to go digging, so I just let it go. After all, my adopted parents are the only parents I know, and they are very good to me. I sent them the address to this blog, and I know they read it daily. I want them to know that I do love them very much, but this time, I'm in way over my head. There's no saving me, and there's no coming home. Nothing is now or will ever be the same. But above all, it isn't your fault. My mother will blame herself forever, but mom, it isn't your fault. There is nothing you or dad could have possibly done to prevent this. They kept you out as much as they kept everyone else out.

This girl I knew, though, her name was Chanda, and she has periodically emailed me now and then to see how I've been and it was about 2 months after Tara and I moved in together that she emailed again. I casually responded to her that I'd met this great girl, etc., and that we were living together. I mentioned that I was hopeful that we might even marry at some point, and that was about it. I never even hinted about hooking up or anything, and she made no mention of visiting me for any reason. We were friends at that point at that was that.

But before I got off, Chanda emailed me back. She asked what Tara's name was. It was a very short email and really only had that question, but I answered all the same. I did ask why she wanted to know. I didn't get an immediate answer, but about that time, Tara came home.

We talked for a little while about nonsense, and then I mentioned the email from Chanda. Somemay think this was crazy, but I had no secrets from Tara, and since it was nothing to me, it would be nothing to her. Oh, how I was wrong.

She listened intently to what I told her right down to the end about asking the name. Tara went off. I'm not honestly sure what the bigger issue was: my talking to an ex or her name being told. he was heavy in on the possibility of what she called "emotional cheating," but the conversation occasionally strayed to telling someone else "our business." She said her name was none of this "Chanda person's" business.

Yeah, I didn't see what the big deal was, but I apologized all the same, admitted that I didn't know she would react this way. She chastised me for my lack of emoitonal understanding, and stormed out, leaving me wondering what the heck just happened. The whole conversation lasted maybe three minutes. It took me longer to tell about it than it did for her to give her speech.

She was gone for two days. When she returned, she wasn't ever the same.