Dancing in the Rain

By Tracy Brooks

There are times in all of our lives when we look to the sky and wonder if the dark clouds shadowing our lives will ever partwhen we wonder if well ever be warmed by the sunshine again. We may be challenged to overcome a single tribulation or a series of trials, but we all find ourselves facing and enduring heartache.

Tracy Brooks has perhaps experienced more than her fair share of heartache, most notably experiencing the ultimate betrayal and abandonment of the dearest person in her life. Getting back on your feet can seem like an insurmountable task after being wounded so deeply, but Tracy realized there was nothing else she could do but move on and wait for the clouds to part.

In this memoir, she seeks to reaffirm that storms of life really do pass and that the sun can shine again. She shares what encouragement can do for someone going through difficult times in their life and how those encouraging others through their journeys are blessed. She hopes to restore faith and reminds readers to pray through hard times.

Brookss memoir shows that regardless of the adversity youre facing, faith can get you through. Hers is a story of finding peace among all the pieces.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Aug 27, 2012
• ISBN: 9781475944501

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Copyright © 2012 by Tracy Brooks

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ISBN: 978-1-4759-4448-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-4449-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-4450-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012914603

iUniverse rev. date: 8/21/2012

Contents

Words Of Gratitude

Preface

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

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38

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44

45

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In loving memory

of

My big sister, Debra Brooks

&

My uncle, Bobby Hoffman

I’ll see you in that sweet by and by.

It wasn’t goodbye, it was see you later.

Beloved, think it not strange concerning

the fiery trial which is to try you,

as though some strange thing happened to you.

1 Peter 4:12

Words Of Gratitude

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I am blessed and highly favored, this I know. Thank you Lord for being faithful during my storm, for keeping all promises you’ve made in your word. I’m counting it all joy. Thanks for being my GPS system, and navigating me through this storm. I trust you Sir.

To my mother, Luretta, you are the very definition of a mother. Thanks for helping me get back onto my feet, for encouraging me and always letting me know that everything was going to be alright. You were right, it is alright, it’s actually better than alright, and I’m grateful. I love you so much, and like the song says, I Still Hear Momma Praying. I hear you loud and clear.

To my big sister, Rhonda, it was a rough road, but thanks for riding out the bumps with me, and helping me in all the ways you did (too many to list). I’m stronger, wiser, better, and I appreciate you so much. I love you. You always talk about all the people who spoil me, but guess what? You’re in that number too. Thanks for everything.

To my Pastor, Dr. Robert Williams, Jr., I realize that not everyone has a Pastor who is so accessible as I do. I’m grateful. Thanks for being there for me. I have benefited immensely by you allowing the Lord to use you as He has. I love you.

To my First Lady, Debbie Williams, your sisterly love is amazing. Thanks for the sincere concern, thanks for being there that morning when I needed you most, and every step of the way.

To my father, Leroy, for financial blessings, encouragement and much love. I love you. There’s nothing like being The Baby!

To my niece, Nekia Williams; and nephew, Kemani Lewis, for helping Auntie get situated, and making sure I was alright. I am.

Jacque and Gerald Malone, what can I say? You were there from the beginning as things unraveled. Thanks for comforting, encouraging, and enlightening me. Your presence made all the difference in the world.

To my long distanced Pastor, Kurtis Summerville, of Ohio, (affectionately called Pastor #2), you encouraged me at every turn, and I do mean every turn. I still have some of the emails you sent to help me through. Thank you. There you have your own congregation to concern yourself with, yet you still extended much time and love to me. Thank you.

Pastor Billy Bell of Dallas, Texas; one thing I know is that people don’t have to be nice to you. Thanks for your conversations of inspiration which uplifted my spirit and strengthened me to stand tall. Thank you for your kindness and for that long distanced communication. Even in the midst of having your own congregation, you were concerned about me.

Assistant Pastor Henry Brown for always reminding me that the Lord wasn’t trying to break me, just bend me in the direction He wanted me to go. Thanks for the continuous support, and kisses on the forehead, which means comfort. That’s just what I needed.

Ruri Tanaka, Connie and Coy Foster, Roslyn and Roderick Sherrill, Karen and Lewis Williams, Lenix Synagogue, and my aunt, Dorothy Hoffman, for recognizing that my pockets were left empty and reaching into yours for my benefit. I’m ever so grateful.

To my first cousins: Whitney Hoffman, Gerren Hoffman and Kevin Pendleton for being there when I needed you. I love you, and appreciate the role you played in helping me heal.

To Eunicee Lopez, thank you so much for sitting with me that day and making sure I was alright. I wasn’t, but even then knew I would be. Gracias!

To Herbert Butch Turner, William BJ Jackson and Danny Dukes for your part in relocating me. There’s nothing like having good brothers. You’re my brothers from different mothers. (smile) I love you guys, thanks for getting me moved out, moved in, and checking on me the way you did. I felt oh so special.

To my best friend Sherri, and her husband Dr. Keith Lewis for always being there for me. It was evident that when I hurt, you hurt. You mean the world to me. Family is not always in the blood line, you’re proof of that. I love you.

To my Command Staff (Chief Black, Chief Davies, Chief Pedersen, Chief Bixby, Captain Tankenson, and Captain Gutierrez) thanks for believing in me, and not thinking anything other than the best. Thank you for allowing my twenty five year reputation to stand for itself and not allow actions of someone else to cloud that view. I needed your support. You gave me support. Thank you so much.

Reverend Deputy Bruce A. McCall for being that bright light when I was wearing tired, for encouraging me even in the midst of the storm. Thanks for the laughs, the good music, and the songs you sung. Thanks for the tears you wiped away, and for making me laugh again. Your smile is priceless, and brought me much comfort. I love you more.

To Dyanne Moody for your daily calls of encouragement, and making me repeat, The joy of the Lord is my strength every single day, all day. It helped. To Reverend and Mrs. Elvin Hoyt, Torchy Watson and Deacon William Knowles for your constant calls to bow in prayer with me. To Kimberly Brewton, Antoinette Moore and Stella Butler for checking on me daily. Thank you.

To my McCoy family, the prayers of the righteous availeth much. Thanks for lifting me up when I was down. I’m still convinced that there is no body, like the body of Christ.

To my work family, even when you didn’t know what to say many of you found subtle ways to come to me and let me know that you were thinking of me and praying for me. Thank you. Your silent gestures spoke volumes.

To the staff at iUniverse for your professionalism, patience, and positive attitude, constantly reassuring me that I could do this! Thank you for making it all come together, and assisting me in an avenue I’ve never traveled.

To all my Facebook buddies, your messages have made me laugh, cry, praise, be encouraged and re-post. I have used some of your messages that you sent to inspire me at the end of each chapter of my book. The Lord always sends someone to help you through a storm. Thanks for your love.

My brethren,

Count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. James 1:2-3

Preface

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I never imagined my daily journal writings would lead to a book being written, but it has. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Dancing in the Rain was written after a very tumultuous period in my life. During this storm I experienced the ultimate betrayal and abandonment by someone I deeply trusted and loved. I never saw it coming.

My prayer is that something said within the pages of this book helps others weather the storms in their lives.

Blessings.

Proceeds of this book will benefit children in the foster care system

who have been abandoned by their parent(s).

1

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Holy Cross Cemetery, Culver City, CA. What an awesome sight to behold, from the sculptured greenery to the breathtaking flowers, waterfalls, and chapels. My goodness this place is beautiful, but as I drove around the narrow winding roads in the funeral procession, I was reminded of what I once heard a minister say, Thank you Lord that today we’re not in the best hospital in town, nor are we in the most beautiful cemetery. Amen to that. Even with that said and those thoughts reeling around in my head I know that death is one of those things that falls under the category of things we have no control over, as many things in life, some things just happen and there’s nothing, and I do mean nothing, you can do about it.

As the motorcycle escorts directed cars adjacent to where Nicolas’ plot was, I found myself watching my childhood friend, Kim. I ached for the pain she was enduring; thinking how terrible it must be to bury a child. After all, I’d watched my own mother do the same. It seemed as though it was just yesterday that I was rubbing Kim’s pregnant belly awaiting Nicolas’ arrival, but today at twenty seven years of age his remains were being laid to rest. My mind went all the way back to 1980, Dorsey High School, where in our yearbook a page of memoriam was dedicated to classmates who had passed on. The page showed a faded picture of palm trees lined along a road, with a caption by an unknown author which read, As I see the palm trees lined along the road in a row, it reminds me of all the many friends I left behind. It seemed so appropriate for the number of friends and family gathered celebrating Nicolas’ life, yet grieving his loss. I don’t know why so much was going through my mind; no doubt times like this make us reflect. I thought about the sign on Crenshaw Boulevard above West Angeles Church, depicting a group of men carrying their beloved friend into the church in a casket. The caption on this billboard read, Don’t let the next time you attend church have you carried in by six. I looked over at a group of Nicolas’ friends all bewildered by their loss and thought life really is filled with swift transitions; it really can change in a moment, in a twinkling of an eye. There were all the buddies he hung out with daily, but now they were carrying him (well at least his remains).

My Pastor, Dr. Robert A. Williams, Jr., has often referred to homegoing celebrations (or funerals) as commercial breaks. He says that though all of us had different plans for that particular day, something totally unexpected happened, abruptly changing our schedules, and diverting our attention. This time it was to honor Nicolas. Just as a commercial comes in over the television blaringly loud to get our attention, deaths, homegoing services of a loved one jolts us also, getting our attention and making us realize that tomorrow is not promised.

The procession was so long it allowed me time to sit in the car as others still parked their vehicles and walked the distance to the gravesite. My attention was drawn to a man at the top of the hill. I’m sure from his vantage point he was able to see the beautiful beaches nearby from his elevated position. There he sat in a lawn chair with a lunch pail to the right of him. He seemed to be relaxed, so at peace. I was always taught that the cemetery holds the remains of our loved ones, so to watch someone go out there with a picnic and sit much of the day as though the person is there has always been a bit strange to me. I’ve always understood the symbolic visiting of the graveyard to place flowers on the gravesite of a loved one, but hanging out all day talking to them as though they were there, was something I didn’t quite get.

As I continued to watch this man at the top of the hill, my thoughts went to the fact that there are many beautiful parks in the City of Angels, as well as beautiful beaches, but here he sat at Holy Cross Cemetery. Oh no doubt it’s a beautiful place, but it’s not a place I personally would like to park at all day. I wondered to myself with all the people in the world, living, breathing, and moving, why this man chose to come and spend his time amongst the remains of those who had passed on. Judging by the way groundskeepers and escorts maneuvering through the cemetery waved at him acknowledging his presence, it was obvious that coming to the cemetery hanging out the way this man was doing was something he did on a regular basis. One of the cemetery workers arrived to lower Nicolas’ remains into the ground and happened to stand right next to my car, as he awaited the conclusion of the gravesite ceremony. He acknowledged my presence.

How are you doing today Miss Lady?

I’m fine, how are you?

Can’t complain, any day above ground works for me.

I smiled.

Seems this procession for this young man arrived right in time, it was pouring earlier, at least we got a break in the rain.

I nodded my head towards the guy up on the hill, Does he come here often and just sit here like that?

Oh yeah that’s Mr. Joshua, he’s a regular here, he comes here every other day and sits for hours with his picnic. He usually comes early in the morning until the sun goes down. He says he comes to sit with his wife and daughter.

I was focused in on Mr. Joshua wondering what he was thinking, and wondering what makes a person come to a cemetery every other day and just sit for hours. I wondered what he found so tranquil about this place. I figured I would never get the answers to any of my questions, but one thing I was sure of and that was I saw something in Mr. Joshua that I hadn’t seen in my own life in a while and that was peace. Right about now I’d take that even if it was in a chair, with a lunch pail, at the cemetery.

As I witnessed Kim suffer through the burial of her young son, I found myself saying, Lord, help us, we’ve all got our own cross to bear, whether it’s the loss of a child, loss of a husband or wife; loss of a marriage, job, home, health issues, whatever it is, we’ve all got our own cross to bear. I can’t carry someone else’s and they can’t carry mine. My cross might not look that heavy to someone else, but their knees and shoulders aren’t holding this particular cross, so they really don’t know how heavy it is.

One thing about life, we can’t pick which trial we want to go through; we have to deal with the ones that befall us. No doubt we would probably pick trials we deemed easier than others, denying ourselves the growth that comes with bearing certain burdens.

The minister began the short gravesite service, later leaving us with two scriptures of encouragement: Psalms 55:22: Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He will sustain you. And, I Thessalonians 5:18: In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.

Amen.

Facebook posts of the day:

Trust in the Lord and lean not to thine own understanding.

The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, blessed be the name of the Lord.

We have to take the bad in life, as well as the good.

Patience is not the ability to wait, but the ability to keep a good attitude while waiting.

You won’t know what’s at the end of the storm until you go through it.

2

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After the homegoing service for Nicolas I went home and sat around for a while before an appointment. I had a heavy heart; I felt the need to just be still for a while. I clicked on the television, didn’t plan to watch the news, but that’s what was on. I’m convinced that everywhere you turn there’s a positive message for you to grab and cling to, today it came via the news, an unlikely source. Quite often the news is full of doom and gloom; many choose to not watch it. I know a lot of people who say they never watch the news because it’s so depressing. But today I got a positive message, you know those subtle reminders you get in life when you’re not really looking for them.

The newscaster was interviewing different individuals at a gas station about the recent heavy rain storms, and of course there were many variations of opinions.

Well what do you think about this rain storm today?

I am tired of it, I don’t like the rain.

How about you?

I love it, we don’t see rain that often in Los Angeles, so I think it’s a nice change, just wish people would learn how to drive in the rain, it’s really not that difficult, just slow down.

Honestly when I see stories like this I think this must be a slow news day for them to spend so much time asking people how they feel about the rain. Kind of like earthquake stories when though the quake was a small trembler, countless hours are spent on the media coverage listening to all the callers say the same thing, We had no damage.

Ma’am, how do you and your family like the rain this week?

Well it’s just our luck, we finally took a vacation and left rainy and flooding weather in our home state, and get here and it’s the same, so much for sunny California huh?

Next was a big burly truck driver who was the last to be interviewed. In all honesty he looked as though he didn’t want to be bothered.

Sir, how are you enjoying this weather?

As he got into his truck he turned to the reporter and said, Well the way I see it we can’t have everything we want, we’ve got to take the rain as well as the sunshine. We can’t just have sunshine all the time. But, just think how beautiful everything is going to be after the storm passes, and all the mess is cleaned out and washed away. We need this rain.

Although this guy was talking about the weather, things in my life were such that I was able to pull another message out of it, and refer it to life in general, that every day won’t be sunshine and roses, some rain must fall, but we’ve got to take the good with the bad. Storms come, but oh when the clouds move over and make way for the sun it really is beautiful and clear.

I grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels, with the truck driver’s statement still on my mind. I landed on the Discovery Medical Channel. I would have kept going because one thing I didn’t need after Nicolas’ funeral service was anything depressing to watch. I didn’t feel like another Maury paternity test show, or another Dr. Phil Family show. I paused at the Discovery Medical Channel when I got a glimpse of a young lady with enormous legs. It got my attention, as I’d never seen anything like it before. I watched as she shared her story of living with Proteus syndrome, something I’d never heard of, nicknamed the Elephant Man syndrome. I watched as she maneuvered with her enormous limbs, taking thirty minutes to do simple things that take others less than a minute to do, as in putting on her shoes. I admired her positive attitude in dealing with this tough situation.

After a commercial break they visited the home of a seventeen year old young man who also had Proteus syndrome. He spoke of all the friends he no longer had since being diagnosed with this syndrome. I guess it’s embarrassing being around someone who looks like me.

The reporter pretty much asked him the same questions he’d asked the previous young lady. What symptoms did you have before being diagnosed? How old were you when you were diagnosed? How has your life changed since being diagnosed? Is there a cure? He was now at his final question, So how do you deal with having such a horrible medical condition, let’s face it you’re a young man, your legs are too big to even walk, I understand you used to love playing basketball and were pretty good at it too?

With a modest chuckle of confidence the teen responded, Yes I was pretty good at it.

So how do you deal with this?

You know, if I had a pile over here and that pile was called my good days, and then had a pile over here and this pile was called my bad days, I can truly say that the pile of good days have far outweighed my bad days, so I just pray for a miracle cure every day. There’s a reason I’m going through this. I can’t explain why I wound up with Proteus, but since I did I have to deal with it, just like everyone else has to deal with what they’re dealt. What other options do I have? I’ve heard the Lord doesn’t put more on you than you can bear, so I guess He thinks I can handle it, but honestly my good days have far outweighed my bad.

The reporter, clearly a bit emotionally shaken by the response and testimony of this youngster, ended the conversation with praising him for his great attitude, and wishing him well.

Thank you Lord for yet another positive message, for even in my own life the good days have far outweighed the bad.

Facebook posts of the day:

The worse days of my life, have turned out to bring forth the greatest blessings.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

My peace I give you…do not let your hearts be troubled.

This joy that I have the world didn’t give it to me, the world didn’t give it, and the world can’t take it away.

3

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I found Nicolas’ service simply beautiful. I cried during much of the service as so many emotions swirled in my head. My life hadn’t been so easy in recent months, and then to see a friend lose her only child really weighed heavy on my heart. I got a bit broken at the service as St. Brigid’s choir sang such beautiful songs, one being one of my favorites, Whom Shall I Fear. I sang along as I normally do in my Baptist church, only to see a few people turning around staring at me as though that was improper etiquette for this Catholic Church. I continued to sing along, still seeming to draw attention with my audible praise.

I had seen this church featured on the news years prior, the newscaster said that in his research he found St. Brigid to be nicknamed The Catholic Church with the Baptist Flavor. Well, from what I saw and heard at the funeral today, I could truly see what this newscaster was talking about. I felt right at home, and even more so when the priest stood up and said, Can I get an amen?

Amen.

It seemed during the entire service I was feeling the need to go into what Oprah calls, one of those ugly cries. Was I crying for Nicky, crying for my own life’s circumstances, crying because that was one of my favorite songs? Was I praising the Lord? Or, did the choir just mess me all up with their angelically beautiful voices? I don’t know. I just knew I couldn’t quite get it together. My best guess is that it was all of those things mixed up together causing the tears to fall from my eyes. The last year of my life had been tough, bombarded with many things, experiencing many different emotions I’d never felt before, even feelings that I tried to hold in, but now they seemed to all be flooding out.

The priest continued with, Thank you choir for such a beautiful song.

Amen.

Do you know what the Bible talks a lot about in the book of Peter?

I mumbled, Encouragement.

No doubt the priest was going somewhere with this to encourage the family at their time of bereavement. I prayed there would be a message of encouragement at several levels for the grieving of Nicolas and for life situations that had blindsided me. Occasionally in the priests’ message tears filled my eyes, I wiped my eyes, and whispered a little something from time to time when the priest reminded the congregation that even in the midst of Nicolas’ passing and other situations that come along in life that God is still good.

Amen.

A young lady approached the mic and what a beautiful voice rang out the words to Precious Lord. I waved my hand in praise.

The flood gates opened. It seemed all the months of trying to hold my own life together, hold emotions in, trying to let everyone think I was alright, when some days I didn’t feel as though I was alright, had all come to the surface. I knew this service was for Nicolas, burying his human remains, and celebrating his life here on earth (however short it was), but for some reason it wasn’t just about that for me. I felt as though I needed to bury some things in my own life as well.

There had been brief moments where I thought it would all kill me, but seated in this church I was reminded that I was very much alive. This gathering was not for me…this time, it was for Nicolas, and Tracy needed to live! Rest in peace Nicky.

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A knock on the door distracted me from the television. It was my new iPod, of course that put a smile on my face. Also delivered was an invitation to a housewarming. I went on and threw that in the trash. I didn’t get how many times my girlfriend Sheila was going to have a housewarming, each time she was evicted from an apartment and had to move to another one she had another housewarming. That’s just plain ol’ begging.

I heard my computer sound indicating I had an email. I ran into the office to check it and found an email from yet another friend. At first glance I thought it was an invitation, but upon reading the email I saw that it was far different than an invitation, even something I had never seen before. She was informing everyone on her distribution list that she couldn’t afford a birthday party this year, but wanted one and asked if everyone could donate fifty or a hundred dollars. If I wasn’t reading it with my own two eyes I wouldn’t have believed it myself. Between this and the housewarming invitation I got a good laugh.

I decided to be silly and send out an email of my own to all of my friends and family:

Dear Friends and Family, I would really like to go to Hawaii on a two week vacation but really can’t afford it. I haven’t had a vacation in years and my birthday is rapidly approaching. I am asking all of you to please send me at least one hundred dollars by next Friday, (though two hundred would be better) because I need to reserve my airline tickets and townhouse by then, time is running out. This means the world to me. Whatever you can spare will be appreciated. (lol)

As the email responses came in of everyone telling me I was crazy, not believing a word of my email, I was more convinced that the one I received was crazy too. I really couldn’t believe someone would ask anyone for money for their birthday party, definitely not an adult, and definitely not in these economic times. I am willing to bet she got as many donations from her request, as I did from mine.

The laughter seemed to lighten my spirits. I hadn’t laughed much lately.

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I pulled into the beauty salon and was still in awe that this new man in my life had been covering my hair expenses every other week since the first few months of our dating. I’d heard a few friends talk about meeting men who pampered them and made them feel like a queen, but I’d never had that in my own life, so this was new to me. Honestly I didn’t even know how to accept it. I kept pinching myself and asking if it was real because I’d always been on the giving end, treating men well, but never getting the same in return.

My stylist glanced at me and then up at the clock as though she was surprised to see me. I made my way into the shop and gave an overall, Good afternoon ladies, to all the ladies in the shop, something I’m trying to make a conscious effort of doing, realizing we sistahs can be some kind of rude to one another.

Oh Tracy, I should have called you to ask if you could come a little later but I’ve been so busy I didn’t have time to, but the client in my chair has thrown my whole afternoon schedule off.

Really?

Tracy can you please let me finish her hair, I’m so sorry, she was late and has thrown my whole afternoon off?

So she was late and you’re asking me to come back?

I’m sorry.

I don’t get this whole customer service thing these days. I figured if this lady was late then she needed to be the one waiting or coming back.

So why should she be able to throw everyone else’s schedule off?

I’m sorry, her appointment was at 11:30 and she didn’t get here until 1:30.

Wow, that sounds like her problem huh?

Her son got in trouble at school, and she had to deal with that.

Okay, and that’s my problem how? You need to work her in around people who actually have appointments and weren’t two hours late.

She has a Boney James concert she’s trying to get to tonight.

Yeah, I’m going to see Boney James too.

Tracy please, I need about two and a half more hours on her weave.

"So you’re telling me she was over two hours late and you want me to come back for my appointment. Okay, you got it."

Thank you so much.

I left and in thirty minutes I was in my own shower, washing my own hair. Realizing a hair salon is on every other corner, and I’d be visiting some of them real soon. This new man in my life afforded me the opportunity to get my hair done every week now, and I’m sure another stylist wouldn’t mind that money in her pocket, since this one didn’t seem to appreciate it.

Facebook posts of the day:

Change isn’t always bad.

This too shall pass.

It’s not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.

When someone brings more problems into your life than happiness it’s time to show them the door.

4

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Single and loving it after breaking up with a guy named Ray, I found life peaceful. I no longer had him over to my house eating up my food, falling asleep and boring me half to death. I left this relationship tired. Started thinking relationships weren’t all they were cracked up to be, at least not for me. Ray gained the title of being the laziest and most selfish man I’d ever met, not a good combination for making a relationship work. Ending this relationship was like dumping a load of dead weight. I felt good, and I knew I’d made the right decision. Being out of a relationship didn’t mean partying and running the streets, or dating men like crazy, that’s never been me. But it meant being unattached, especially from someone who didn’t appreciate me.

It was my desire to be alone, not date or anything, just enjoy me time, put myself under construction if you will. I’d had enough. I figured if this was what relationships were about then I could do fine by myself. Ray had a mentality, of which he didn’t mind verbalizing often, that It’s all about me. He didn’t know the meaning of sacrifice, everything was about him. If he didn’t want to do it, he didn’t. If he didn’t want to go, he didn’t. It was all about him, though he wasn’t like that in the beginning of the relationship. Ridding myself of Ray was like a breath of fresh air. I never thought I could change Ray, but I did desire to help him as he often spoke of suicide.

Like others, Ray got far more of my time than he deserved, I surmise that I give too much time to relationships because when and if it ends I’d like to walk away knowing I did everything I could do to make it work. I could walk away with no guilty feelings, no questions…just walk away.

Two years of not dating anyone after breaking up with Ray was sweet. I worked on myself, read more, reflected more, journaled more. It was good. Sure I had periods of wanting to go out, wishing some special man was in my life especially for those special days, but since it