I had spent all day yesterday checking out the Pasco County Tax Deeds sales for today. I had agonized alone all day, knowing that Richard Martin would be with Zena tonight. I just barely got through in time for church and still couldn’t get the thought of them out of my mind. I went to the Fox telling myself I would check out Richard Martin’s theory about the miniature liquors and then I would have something to talk to him about the next day. Who was I kidding?

I felt abandoned and unwanted and needed to have some stranger fawn over me to reassert my self esteem. I walked in and except for one other couple was the only person at the bar. I guess I’d be buying my own drink tonight. Could I drown my sorrows in my one glass limit of house red wine? Two men came in with an obviously drunk blonde bimbo and a third came in at about the same time. He went into the kitchen and spoke with the bartender as if perhaps they were fellow employees. He told Tommy to send me another drink if I’d just smile.

I waited a few moments to say anything to him. He was my age, full of himself and no one I thought a challenge, but there was no one else there. I walked over and assured him I was not having a bad day and I deliberately placed my hand on his back as I leaned close and spoke. I didn’t know him 15 minutes before he was telling me and everyone else who would listen how much he loved me. I just hate that. He doesn’t know a thing about me. He wants to come be a volunteer with the Tigers. I hope he forgets.

A tall slender, balding man came in and obviously knew Michael Saylor. He was with a striking blonde who was virtually wrapped around him. He took my hand to shake it and introduce himself as Jim Harringer? I don’t let people touch me and I never touch them without considering the effect that usually has. He was so quick to grab my hand that now as he stood there, my hand in his, I felt to pull away would be rude.

He seemed to take on that familiar lost in time look. He just kept holding my hand and staring deep into my eyes. His date reached up and literally turned his face to hers and said something inaudible. Ignoring her, he turned back to me as if he were just speechless. This gives me such a sense of power. I don’t know what it is, but this was the boost my bruised ego needed. I could leave now. And did.

When I got home Richard Martin paged and my heart leapt. Could this mean that he was not going to be wrapped in her arms tonight? Or had she just excused herself to take a shower and he was now using the opportunity to make sure I was home alone like I should be? He was agitated that he had been unable to reach me and said he had left an angry message on my cell phone. I don’t know how to use the thing yet, so I couldn’t play the message back. I talked to him until late in the night.

All of these things were replaying in my mind as I drove all over Pasco County today. I got the mobile home lot I wanted, managed to raise enough cash in town to pay for it without having to drive back to Tampa, and was on my way to do some research on a judgment for Richard Martin in Brooksville. I stopped back by the lot to put up a For Sale sign and to photograph the lot for my files. I was thinking about the little Voice in my head that was assuring me that I could live with anyone, but the one I should choose is the one I could not live without. As I was trampling down killer sand spurs and talking on the cell phone to Richard Martin he said, “Tell me something good” and everything inside me wanted to say, “I love you, Richard Martin. That’s something good”. Instead I told him I was going to have to bite my tongue to keep from telling him what was on my mind. I hung up so frustrated.

On the way home from Spring Hill I argued with the little Voice, as I am prone to do. It kept telling me to call him up and proclaim my love. It kept insisting that I may never have the opportunity again. I know this Voice well enough to know it as the Voice of God and I was concerned He was trying to tell me something. I argued that Richard Martin’s friendship was too important to me to take a risk of running him off by making such a brash statement, but the Voice kept telling me that there was no reason to hide the love I feel.

I tried to call but Hurricane George is approaching over Cuba and the line cracked and died. I tried two more times before finally getting him on the line. I asked, “You’ re a realist , right?” He affirmed. “Then as the master of logic and reason, tell me one reason why I should bite my tongue and not tell you what is on my mind?” His response was, “Go ahead. I was expecting bad news.” Bad news? This could be real bad news, I thought, if he takes it the wrong way. I tried to sound cheerful, despite my fear. “This isn’t bad news. At least I hope it’s not bad news to you. I know this isn’t the appropriate time nor place but I can’t bite my tongue any longer.”

I waited and then said, much more subdued, “Richard, I Love You!” There was what seemed an endless gap in time and then exuberantly he said, “That’s great news!” What a relief!

Later he asked me to dinner at Skipper’s Smokehouse which is where this all started. I thought that was romantic. We met at the church parking lot to take just his car. We told everyone it was our Anniversary. It had been a glorious 5 and ½ weeks. We resolved to come here at least once a year.

He asked me what brought me to the realization that I loved him and I detailed for him the chain of events that had led to the realization that he was the one I didn’t want to live without. We went back to the Church for my truck and there, listening to “Our Love Will Go On” by Celine Deon we kissed and I told him in person that I love him. We thought it appropriate that this should all happen here on the church grounds since God was behind the whole thing.

On the way back to his condo we went through the toll booth. He pulled into the lane for change, and not wanting to hold him up (he drives so fast) I pulled through a change only lane, so that we could pull out together. I waited for as long as I could but when someone pulled in behind me, I had to pull through and wait up ahead on the shoulder. I thought he might need change and was contemplating pulling back down the ramp to help, when he came on through and pulled up along side of me. He said he thought I was the truck behind him and that he had paid her toll and had the attendant pass a note to her saying, “I Love You”. We’ll be laughing about that for a long time.

I've been writing my story since I was able to write, but when the media goes to share it, they only choose the parts that fit their idea of what will generate views. If I'm going to share my story, it should be the whole story. The titles are the dates things happened. If you have any interest in who I really am please start at the beginning of this playlist: http://savethecats.org/

I know there will be people who take things out of context and try to use them to validate their own misconception, but you have access to the whole story. My hope is that others will recognize themselves in my words and have the strength to do what is right for themselves and our shared planet.

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Music (if any) from Epidemic Sound (http://www.epidemicsound.com) This video is for entertainment purposes only.