Tag Archives: love

Life Story – It Was Decision Day And A Chapter Of My Life Was Ending..

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Life Story

 

After a few hours of restless sleep I awoke at 5:00 a.m., quickly got dressed, packed my suitcase and drove to Becky’s house for our early morning rendezvous.

The sun was barely cresting over the mountains, the hills were covered with new snow from the night before, but I couldn’t enjoy the beautiful sight because all I wanted was to get Becky in the car and speed away with her as quick as possible and start our life story together.

I couldn’t wait to get Becky away from her parents and back home to San Diego with me, where we would finally begin our life together.

A good job, a small house, nice car and a solid life waiting for us when we got back but most of all I was prepared to take up the responsibilities in front of me and be a husband and a real man.

By 6:00 a.m I arrived at her house, parked the car up the street, and waited for her to come out just as we had planned.

After waiting ten minutes she didn’t come out to the car and I began to worry.

6:30 a.m: I noticed the lights come on in her parent’s bedroom and I knew that they were getting up to shower, and prepare for work. By 6:45 a.m. as I sat in my car I watched through the kitchen window as her father walked into the kitchen and sat down at the kitchen table to eat his morning breakfast.

As soon as I saw her father come into the kitchen I ducked down in the seat of the car because her father would flip out if he saw me and call the police.

7:00 a.m: I was growing more depressed by the minute as I realized that Becky wasn’t coming so I started the car and prepared to drive away, never to see her again when the side door to her garage opened and Becky quickly came outside, carrying a large, green carry on bag. She quickly walked up the street with grace, got inside and we left.

Success! I was thrilled as we sped away from her house, and away from the prison of her parent’s home. Becky and I traded kisses and held each other as we speeded down the country roads. She looked at the odometer and said, “You better slow down because there’s cops out everywhere along these roads.”

“I know,” I said, laughing.

The further away Becky and I got from her parents, the more we relaxed and began to talk about the events of the last few months and everything we had been through.

We discussed how we wanted to make the relationship work and were going to do everything we could to stay together.

“I love you and I’m so sorry for everything,” Becky kept saying.

 “There was nothing to be sorry for. Everything that we’ve been through over the last two months is history and the most important thing is that we’re finally together!” I said

Now that we were finally together I felt like we could finally move on with our lives. Or would this be the end of our life story?

Emotionally, I was still on edge and wondered if we would get back to the airport together and end up back in San Diego together. So many things had gone wrong over the previous few months despite my efforts to make our relationship work.

As we got closer to the airport in Washington, Becky and I stopped looking over our shoulders for any sign of her parents coming after us and started to relax. We eventually arrived at the airport a few hours later, turned in the rental car, and promptly got in line to wait to board the plane.

Everything was working out perfect and, while we waited, I decided to call my parents and tell them the good news. They were elated. They couldn’t believe that everything had worked out exactly like I had planned and hoped it would.


My parents told me that they told all of our friends and family about my journey and that everyone was praying for Becky and me, anxiously awaiting our arrival home and eager for us to begin our life story together in the warm Southern California sunshine. 

At about 1 p.m. we boarded the plane that would take us back to Portland, Oregon, where we would wait until 3:30 p.m. and board a commercial airliner that would take us back home to San Diego. As we boarded the small plane Becky began to shake and started to cry.

I asked her what was wrong, but she wouldn’t say a word to me. In actuality I knew why she was crying and I that I could get her on the plane and home to San Diego before she could change her mind again and ruin our plans.

Once everyone was on the plane, it departed without delay soon flying over snow-covered fields and mountains on our way back to Portland. Oregon really was a beautiful state, covered with miles of countryside that would make any artist like me go crazy with the desire to paint it. I didn’t have time to stop and enjoy it, though, because the last phase of my plan awaited us.

We arrived in Portland by 3:00 p.m., entered the airport terminal and went looking for our final flight. When we found the commercial jet plane I handed over our tickets and we boarded. I breathed easy and sat down with Becky, dreaming of what it would finally be like when we could be alone together, that night, as husband and wife.

As we sat on the plane, waiting for it to take off, I told Becky of the home I had made for us, and everything I had done to prepare for her arrival but it was evident that she wasn’t hearing a word I was saying. I looked into her eyes and knew that emotionally, she was still home in Lostine, worrying about what her parents were saying about her and doing at that very moment.

Sadly, Becky was still a scared little girl, afraid to venture out on her own without her parent’s approval.

Even though she was 21 years old and legally considered an adult, she was still a child on the inside and I couldn’t reach her…

As we approached 3:30 pm, the flight attendants on the plane readied the passengers for takeoff by putting away their bags and serving peanuts. That’s when Becky told me that she was going to the restroom, abruptly got up and rushed towards the exit. I unbuckled my belt and went after her. She wasn’t heading for the restroom, the door of the plane still ajar, and she was running for it.

“Becky! Where are you going? The plane is about to take off!” I shouted.

She kept running and made it through the door as it was closing and I squeezed through and continued running after her as she raced up the tunnel back to the airport terminal. Once we were back in the airport terminal she stopped running and when I caught up with her she was shaking and crying.

“Becky? What is it?” I asked

“I shouldn’t be doing this!” She said.

“We broke my parent’s rules and demands, God’s laws and will got to Hell for it!” She sobbed, not realizing that this wasn’t supposed to be the end of our life story, but the beginning….

The plane took off without us, there was no way we were going to make that flight and my plans were stopped again, by her. She didn’t want to be on that plane and had bailed on me at the very last second. What else could I do? Give up? Go home and leave her there?

After fighting so hard to make our relationship work since we had been together only to have our plans fall flat time and again by circumstances out of our control or by other people and this time she was the one keeping us apart.

I grabbed Becky’s hand and walked over to the airline counter to exchange our tickets for a flight later in the afternoon and once our next flight was confirmed I was determined to spend the next few hours trying to talk her out of giving up on our relationship once again. I tried every tactic I could think to convince her to stay with me but she didn’t want my love or comfort, and only desired to rejoin her family.

Over the previous months since her father had broken us up and exercised his controlling ways on her I quickly realized that Becky was deeply mentally and emotionally abused by her father and didn’t have and strength of her own to defy him.

Once we were together in Oregon and finally on the plane back to San Diego that I imagined that her father’s emotional grip would be broken and she would willing leave with me but her fathers grip could not be broken and she was running back to him once again.


We found a secluded bench in the airport terminal and for the next two hours I did everything in my power to try and build her up again emotionally so she would board the plane with me again to go to San Diego but in spite of my pleadings it was like there was an emotional “brick wall,” between us and she wasn’t accepting anything that I said. I didn’t understand how she left with me so willingly that morning only to leave me on the plane and walk out on me again, that afternoon.

Finally out of frustration I said, “Becky, you’re killing me, don’t you know that you’re driving me insane?”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she pleaded with me.

“Why did you lead me along over the last two months and make me think that you wanted me to come and get you?” I asked.

The longer I sat there on that bench with her, trying to break into her “emotional Hell,” and convince her to come with me, and begin our life story together, I felt like I was slipping into her abyss of confused thoughts and knew that if we weren’t on that next plane to San Diego I would stay with her in Oregon rather than leave her again.

Becky knew that if she didn’t leave with me her only option was to go home to her parents and face her punishment for defying them for the second time in her life, but in spite of the punishment that lay in store for her she desired to rejoin them once again.

“Becky, you don’t have to go back! Your parent’s don’t own you!” I said to her.

“I shouldn’t have defied them, we never should have gotten married and did what we did today,” she said.

Her mind was made up, and she was going to walk out on me again. I was blown away by what she was doing to me and just sat there feeling dead inside.

Finally, by 5:00 p.m. the next plane was ready for departure, so I got up and headed over to the gate to board the plane that would take me, and only me, home. Becky walked behind me silently knowing the fate that awaited her and also knowing that she would never see me again. When I got to the ramp I turned around, grabbed her arm, and pleaded with her to come with me.

 “Becky don’t do this!” Doesn’t our love mean anything to you?” I desperately asked.

“Your parents don’t love you and will only make your life a living Hell when they get you back.” I said.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” She sobbed.

I continued to pull her with me to the ramp but she kept sobbing and shaking her head, “No” as travelers around us watched the scene we were creating.

Becky was like a prisoner who wanted to go back to the “hole” and serve more punishment. I was offering her freedom and the chance for a normal life and she didn’t want it.

Before I boarded the plane, I turned to her one last time and held her tightly, knowing that I would never see her again.

This was the last time I could hold her in my arms, caress her beautiful face, smell her long dark hair and look into those bottomless brown eyes.

“You’re breaking my heart,” I cried.

“I’m so sorry!” Becky said sobbing.

“I thought you loved me, I thought you wanted us to be together! That’s why I’m here Becky; it’s my love for you that brought me here! Don’t you get that?” I asked.

“I can’t go with you.” She said.

“Becky, if it takes my entire life I’ll never understand you and I’ll never stop loving you.” I said.

Just before the boarding door closed I grabbed her again, passionately kissed her, and let her go.

“I’ll never forget you,” I said as I walked through the door.

We were so close to being together but in reality, we never had been so far apart. Our life story began and ended in that hotel room on our wedding day.

My journey was a failure, she walked out on me again and I was going home a broken man. I felt more tired and more beaten up than ever before. And at 24 years old, I felt like a tired, old man.

Our short relationship brought nothing but heartache and pain. And now I wanted to lie down and die because I didn’t know if I would ever get over her, and I couldn’t understand the depth of mental and emotional abuse by her father that drove her to leave me for the last time and go back to her family.

Over the next few months I would mourn her absence and deal with the deadness that she had left inside of me.

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The good times and the bad

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Falling in love for the first time with a young, passionate woman who loved me back was a wonderful, new phase of my life.

Before falling in love, I constantly witnessed the closeness of couples around me on a regular basis but I never understood what they had.

But when it finally happened, I at last understood what it was all about. And I gave myself to it completely.

During the first few months of our relationship, we were white hot lovers who couldn’t bear to spend one moment apart; the yearning for each other was just too much to bear.

She was my North Star and every night after work, I followed her warm light home.

We even wrote letters to one another on days we couldn’t see each other, and our relationship blossomed more than ever.

Then came another big change.

My parents decided that they were ready to move from our home of 13 years in Spring Valley to a smaller, cozier home in nearby Chula Vista. It was closer to my dad’s job and was conclusive to taking care of my Grandma Hyatt, who was in her early 80’s and ready to leave the responsibility of her old home and move in with them.

I loved living in our house in Spring Valley because I had grown up there and it was the only home I had ever known.

That house was where I developed my love for gardening from our large flower garden, developed my passion for art from the wonderful sunsets I watched from our patio and fed my desire for knowledge in my room, my safe haven, I had known and loved since childhood.

It was extremely hard to leave for another home, in a different area, away from everything I knew and loved.

On my final night there, as we packed the final box and drove away from the cold dark shell that was our old house, my Mom and I cried because it was almost as if, symbolically one phase of life was closing, and another was opening.

But it didn’t take long to move beyond the sadness of moving from my old house and old life, to a new house and a new life because of my engagement to Becky and future wedding.

By this time I had already told my parents that I loved Becky and that we wanted to get married. They supported me in anything I did and told me that they were eager to welcome her into the family.

Our wedding plans sped up quickly as Becky and her mother were making wedding plans, trying on wedding dresses, contacting caterers, sending out invitations, making travel plans with relatives while all I had to do was buy the rings, rent a tux and show up for the ceremony.

Every day, the first things I was asked from Becky and her mother when I went over to her house was what I thought about this cake and that cake, how many people I wanted to invite and did I rent a tux?

I quickly realized that Becky, like most young women, had planned for her wedding all of her life and she wanted every detail like the flowers, brides maids gowns, wedding dress and cake to be very special.

I was ready for marriage but at the same time began to feel rushed by her parents who were pushing for an early wedding, even though I originally wanted for us to be engaged for one year.

Her parent’s philosophy was, “If two people really love each other, why should they wait to get married when God wants them to be together?”

When we got engaged I wanted our engagement to be for one year because I wanted to really wanted to fell confident about my job, find an apartment and save money for our future so that I could have a life ready for her once we were together.

Her parents told us that they were married after only dating for a few short months and even though they had little to no money throughout their lives and been on the verge of homelessness at times they always had their love to keep them together.

I felt differently than her parents and wanted to make sure I was ready financially for marriage and feeling rushed into marriage became very unsettling to me.

My relationship with Becky and her family was good, but their relationship with my parents and other people in the church quickly fell apart within a few months after Fred took over as pastor of the church.

Fred, was a pastor with a very “old fashioned” world view and demanded that all aspects of life should follow the Bible. This included how women dressed, wore their hair, did their makeup, performed jobs, treated their children, and handled their family life etc. This was something that the church elders claimed they didn’t know about him before he started as pastor.

His beliefs caused everyone in the church to get upset because Fred wanted to change every aspect of the congregation’s life to follow his world view.

Fred was turning into a cult leader before my very eyes but I couldn’t see it because I was in love with his daughter. And being an idealist, I though all of the problems Fred was causing wouldn’t affect Becky and I once we were married.

How wrong I was.

I quickly realized that Becky would follow her father with blind devotion and never question him on anything. No matter how hard I tried to convince her that she could make up her own mind and do what she wanted with her life she never agreed with me.

Becky’s beliefs included sex without birth control, having many children like her mother, residing in a rural area and shunning modern society.

“That’s not what I want in life,” I told her one night when we were talking, outside, alone.

“I’m from California, my family is here and our life is going to be here. I want to live here, build a life and raise a family.” I said.

Fred was contemplating what would happen if he was forced to leave the church because of his radical beliefs and Becky wanted us to follow her parents like sheep once we were married.

She didn’t agree with my goals and ambitions and we started to fight about what each of us wanted and we explored our core values to see if they matched the vision we had for our life together.

We both had the same faith, love of God, devotion to family but she wanted the traditions her father raised her on while I craved modernity.

I almost ended our relationship a few times but she always drew me back. Then after making up with her we felt like we could conquer any barrier in our relationship if we were together.

We were in our own little world and oblivious to what Fred was doing to destroy the church and ruin people’s lives.

My parents were not happy with what Fred was doing to destroy the church and they became increasingly concerned as I spent more time with Becky at her house. They wondered if I was getting brainwashed by Fred’s way of thinking while I was deeply in love with his daughter.

I assured my parents and everyone who cared to listen that, “I’m my own man! And nobody is going to brainwash me!” Even though I said this I didn’t realize that the power of love that I had for Becky and the desire I had to be with her would make me turn my back on everything I had known and loved.

As things got worse in the church Fred and his family began to “shun” or turn their backs on members of the congregation that he was supposed to be the spiritual leader of. My parents were also “shunned” by Fred and his family because my mom and dad didn’t want to adhere to Fred’s backward way of thinking. They told me what was Fred was doing in the church, and how they were being treated by him and his family and I didn’t want to believe it.

After a few months as pastor, the elders asked Fred to leave the church because the congregation was preparing to split up and the elders didn’t want that to happen.

One night after I had dinner with his family, I was talking with Becky about our marriage plans, in her living room, when Fred came in and told us the news that he would no longer be pastor of the church.

He made it sound like he was fired from his job and left with nothing to live on, when in reality, the elders had agreed to pay him his salary for the remainder of the year, and continue to let him live in the home that they had bought for his family only a few months before, while Fred looked for work and decided what he wanted to do next.

Fred had no desire to look for work and get a real world job while he was living off the salary the church was paying him. His desire was to start his own “church” right from the comfort of his own home and hopefully attract people who believed like him.

What I didn’t realize was, now that Fred would have his own “church” and didn’t have to answer to elders or have anyone question his authority he essentially became a full blown cult leader.

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Jim Jones

 

Of course I didn’t see him as a cult leader at the time because I was in love with his daughter and my rationality was clouded so I decided to leave the only church I had ever known and follow Fred’s leadership.

This disappointed my parents because I had always followed in their footsteps and for the first time, I went in a different direction then them.

My parents, friends and relatives tried to get me to see that I was following a blatant cult leader and that I was slowly being brainwashed by him but I didn’t see it that way.

This was a scary decision for me. But it was also a very liberating one because I was making a real “grownup” decision and hoped that it was the right one to make.

Despite the tribulation surrounding us, my relationship with Becky only got more intense. I experienced first hand how trying times bring couples together. So naturally our hunger for each other became hotter than ever and we made love whenever we could be alone from her parents prying eyes.

As I fell for her more and more and became part of her family, I slowly gave up on my own dreams and artistic endeavors because I didn’t have any time for art or writing because I was always with her and I didn’t see how my artistic goals would fit in to our plans once we were married.

Becky wanted to get pregnant and have children right after we were married and I couldn’t see how I could pursue my creative goals when I would have a wife and family of my own to support.

Although our relationship was heating up our marriage plans were slowing down.

Fred’s “church” wasn’t getting any interest or support from anyone in San Diego and as his salary from his brief stint as pastor was coming to an end he and his wife began to search for homes in cheaper parts of the country. Their plans took precedence over our marriage plans and we were left in “limbo” as they decided what they wanted to do next.

The question they asked me one night was, “would Becky and I go with them if they moved to another state to start a new life?”

I didn’t want to say no to them if going with them was their only condition to letting me marry Becky so I told them that once we were married we would move with them wherever they went.

This excited Becky’s parents and drew Fred closer to me as a friend and confidant than ever before because after he lost his job as pastor at the church he had no friends in California he trusted.

As Fred’s salary from his job at the church began to dwindle and his home church drew no interest from the community he became increasingly withdrawn and manic depressive around his family.

Fred blamed my parents and everyone who was still worshiping at the church that had kicked him out for his problems and imminent financial troubles. On a nightly basis he lashed out at the world around him and called anyone evil, who didn’t agree with his way of seeing the world or teaching from the Bible.

I became increasingly alarmed with Fred’s psychotic behavior and cult leader view points and began to question the choice I was making to follow him and marry his daughter.

My inner turmoil was horrible because, every day, as I fought with my own inbred desire to be independent and free of Fred’s dominating behavior I was still deeply in love with Becky and my love for her stopped any actions to exercise my independent personality.

I wanted to stand up to Fred and tell him how I really felt about him but I also feared that if I did stand up to him he would end my relationship with Becky and forbid us from seeing each other ever again.

Even though Becky was 21 years old and I was 24, legal adults and able to make our own decisions, she was essentially “owned” by Fred and if I wanted a life with her I had to be his, “yes man” and “whipping boy” until we were married.

I thought that once Becky and I were married I would speak up for myself and not let Fred dominate me or control what Becky and I did with our lives.

My parents were deeply concerned about me and made their feelings known whenever I was around them at home. I told them that once Becky and I were married I would assert myself and we would live our own lives, separate from Fred and his family.

I wanted to be optimistic with my parents and project my usual aura of confidence around them but inwardly I didn’t believe my confidence or think that Fred would let Becky and I go, once we were married.

I knew that if I wanted to be true to myself, to be my own person and have a life with Becky, away from Fred and his dominating ways, I would have to fight for what I wanted……….

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