Love

This section of my book describes events that are dark and horrifying. This marks a radical change in the narrative of the book. Nothing that happened prior to now could have prepared me for the horrors that await.

At the end of the last chapter, I was on top of the world. I certainly would not have wanted anything to change. I would have done anything imaginable to hold onto the life I had with Lynn. I was crazy in love.

My career that I had spent the past sixteen years building was about to come to a sudden, crashing end.

Most of the events described within the chapters of this entire section occurred within one month - August of 2000.

John Freifeld became obsessed with destroying my credibility and my career. He had moved from Virginia to Wilmington and moved in with the first person he referred to me for treatment. He would brainwash some of my clients into thinking that I was the cause for all their problems and why they weren't getting better. That included one client, Sadie, who had successfully completed therapy with me and previously had said she was very satisfied with the care that I had provided.

Freifeld composed a complaint letter to the North Carolina Social Work Certification and Licensure Board (NCSWCLB) on behalf of five of my clients, including the client who had been satisfied with my care when I last met with her for therapy. The complaints were the same, verbatim.

One of the complaints was that I planted false memories of Satanic Ritual Abuse. I had previously looked into how it was that two of my clients had begun to believe that these bizarre things happened to them as children.

Everything that mattered to me was under assault. Lynn's disease suddenly took a turn for the worse. This more than anything was terrifying to me. She was my whole life. I was madly in love with Lynn. She was part of me. We were one body. We were husband and wife.

How do you cope without the one person that connects you to the world and everything meaningful in the world? Whatever success I had found in life was made all the more beautiful and amazing because I could share it with Lynn. Now her life was in jeopardy.

The issues that clients presented to me could be addressed with rational reasoning. That had worked for a while. However, there was no similar way to cope with the loss of the entire life I had built with Lynn. Again, most of the chapters in this section occur within one month of 2000. So, there wasn't time to go ask a therapist for advice or guidance.

Previously, I would ask my colleagues, therapists, psychologists, or my psychoanalyst how I might handle complicated matters that might have an impact on my success as a psychotherapist. Now things were changing too fast - literally from one day to the next. It wasn't clear to me when I should have canceled all appointments with every client.

It would have been easier if I caught a serious illness like a virus in August of 2000. Then I would have known to cancel all appointments for as long as necessary. It's easier to tell when we have something physical happen to us. 

I was reading a number of different books when she came to me. I had a few books stacked near the bed. It was April 15, 2000. A normal day in the life of a psychotherapist who felt on top of the world.

Yes, I'm talking about me.

Two of the books were somewhat related to one another. One was from the study material that I had on psychodynamic/psychoanalytic therapy. I had been pursuing credentials in this area though I was aware that the theories were hard to prove.

I suppose there are a number of concepts from psychodynamic/psychoanalytic theory that is useful to know as a therapist. Defense mechanisms, like projection and transference, rationalization, and repression.

Then there was a book on ego state theory. This did seem like a valuable framework for understanding the different states of mind that describe the normal processes of life. Making love is a state of mind altogether different than other states of mind - I certainly am not in that same state of mind when I am at work.

The other book was called "Paperclip Dolls." This was peculiar. It was written by a woman who had different alter personalities put this book together. She said she used pictures from magazines to create a scrapbook that depicted parts of herself. Hmm.

Was she one of the dolls? That seemed to be what she was suggesting. She seemed to have discovered aspects of herself from the work she had done using these pictures that she cut out of the magazines.

I had only recently stumbled upon this book.

I had been treating people with Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) which is discussed in greater detail, dear reader, in another book in this series of memoirs. There were some conspiracy theories circulating about government mind control and other bizarre things. I had clients who were sharing some unusual ideas about what had happened to them early in life.

Treating DID was only a small part of what made up my private practice. Dissociative Identity Disorder used to be called Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD) and it is based on the idea of people having different personalities due to early life trauma.

I had been searching the web for information about DID, treatment, abuse, trauma, and other terms. Those were keywords I used in my searches. I found forums, chat rooms, web sites. Directories and more. Some were directed perhaps to therapists and other mental health professionals. However, even those were available to the public.

Many confused people could end up believing in things that never happened. Delusions. Some people seemed to have become certain about what happened to them, and yet if it were true, it would be an explosive conspiracy theory or set of conspiracy theories.

What had happened to these people? So many curious ideas were running through my mind. My mindset was somewhat philosophical. Curious. Inquisitive.

I let that go. I looked up and Lynn was at the bedroom door.

She had a mischievous smile on her face. "I want sex," she said.

"Me too," I said, my face lit up with a smile. I took off my shirt as she was unbuttoning her shirt.

She dropped her pants on the floor and removed her bra. Seeing her breasts, I felt aroused and excited. My heart was racing with excitement. I was aroused as I removed my pants. I paused captivated by the sight of her as if I was seeing her for the first time.

She dropped her pants and underwear and I paused for a moment to take in the sight of her and she let me look. Lynn knew how much pleasure I found in looking at her. No doubt, it felt good for her to know she was so beautiful to me.

"Perfect," I said. She smiled. Looking down she noticed I was excited, but she let me look for a moment as I paused taking in the sight of her... adding the words "Amazing! Beautiful!"

I started to move toward her but before I got very far, she was getting onto the bed.

She was on top of me, her tongue inside my mouth, mine inside hers. We were moving. She was on top.

I could feel both of our hearts as she pressed her lips against mine. Her arms around me squeezed tighter and tighter. I could feel her breasts against my chest.

She said, "I feel like I can't get close enough."

"I know," I said, returning to kissing her.

She was supporting herself somehow, just slightly elevated near our waists.

She paused for a moment as she felt me between her legs. "Oh, you're too close, sweetie," she said with a sigh of pleasure all the same.

This might be confusing but remember, Lynn can't get pregnant. She was telling me that she wanted to be a part of me when she said she can't get close enough, but despite that desire, she had to be sure that she didn't get pregnant.

She continued to move and wrap her arms closely around me. Her kisses were so desperate and passionate. She was hungry! So was I.

Our arms and bodies moved as I caressed Lynn and she squeezed me tighter. I had a habit of letting her squeeze maybe because I was concerned about her comfort.

Those words repeated in my mind. "I feel like I can't get close enough."

"I feel like I can't get close enough."

I dropped a bit and let go with a smile. She sensed what had happened.

She just smiled. "I came already," I said.

"That's okay."

She was still above me smiling.

I asked genuinely curious, "that was good for you?"

"Yeah. I am glad you felt good."

"But you didn't."

"Yes, I did," she said.

"Not really," I said... adding "You were so hungry for sex and you didn't have an orgasm, how can that be good enough?"

"We can do that another time, she said, adding, "I'm happy."

"Wow, so am I," I said with a chuckle.

I reflected upon how amazing it was that this was happening so often, nearly every day as if we had just gotten engaged... as if this was the "honeymoon phase" that I heard described somewhere – something that exists for one year.

The passion was so incredibly intense. You would think we had just gotten engaged a few months ago... or that we had not seen each other in a few weeks or months.

She got up to start the shower for us. I lay for a moment reflecting on things.

I felt a wave of serenity wash over me.

I was in love. Because she was in love with me. We were one.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you so much" I added.

I then smiled or laughed a bit.

"What?" she asked.

"I was thinking of that song by the Moody Blues and how I would like to sing it to you, but I can't... I can't sing."

"'Cause I love you,
yes, I love you,
oh, how I love you,
oh, how I love you.'

I like the way the singer sings those words like he is overcome with a feeling that MUST be cried out the same way you cannot contain yourself when we make love. But it's not the same thing, I can and would cry out those words in public. Then it repeats... those same words.

'Cause I love you,
yes, I love you,
Oh, how I love you,
oh, how I love you.'"

Then I said, "That's how I feel! I want to tell the whole world that I love Lynn."

I then added, "and you KNOW I would do just that, over and over, no matter how many times someone has heard it!

She just smiled.

I had the thought that I would have shouted these words out to the world not just after we made love but anytime. So often and in so many ways I felt these feelings of intense love for Lynn and an intense desire to tell everyone about it.

Shortly later that evening, I was still thinking about Lynn's happiness and what that meant for her.

I thought about how much I cared about her happiness, her dreams, and her aspirations. She wanted a Master of Fine Arts (MFA) degree – could I help with that?

What about a kiln so that she could bake her pottery at home? Maybe I could earn more money and buy that for her.

Lynn's Extended Family Visits

Lynn had a cousin who came to visit a few times and we went to Scranton, Pennsylvania to see her cousins.

One of those occasions, when they came to visit us, was in the summer of 1997. This was so much fun because the kids loved me. They had two girls. One of them Becca (short for Rebecca), was maybe five years old when she met me, and her sister, Tammy was 12.

We gave her cousin, Mary, and her husband Frank, the spare room that had a couch that opened into a bed. Their daughters Becca and Tammy slept in the other room where we had the bookcase and the computer.

Unlike visiting my parents during this time, it never crossed my mind that there would be an issue with the fact that Lynn and I had not had a wedding. We certainly didn't pretend to sleep in different rooms or in a separate bed.

I believe I only made one visit to my parents for Christmas as a result of Lynn saying that we should sleep in different beds. That might have been right after we moved in together in 1994 and were living as husband and wife. So, we have jumped ahead a few years and I don't know if it would have even occurred to us in 1997 to consider sleeping in different beds at this point. 

It's worth noting that when we went to visit them in Pennsylvania even before this, it never occurred to Lynn to bring up the topic of sleeping arrangements. Of course, we were going to sleep in the same bed or bedroom when we were visiting.

Getting back to her cousin's visit in 97...

On the first day of their visit, we went to the beach at Carolina Beach. This wasn't far from where Lynn and I had gone on our first date all those years earlier.

I loved spending time with both Becca and Tammy.
 

We found a spot on the beach where the waves came from the open ocean. And after the grown-ups, not including me, got comfortable, I was being called upon by Becca and Tammy to go into the water.

As we started walking into the ocean, Becca reached up with her hands to me and said, "pick me up."
 

So, I held her in my arms and the three of us -Tammy, Becca, and I - went into the deeper water as they requested.

We were riding the waves.

I was drinking salt water and asked for a break to wash out the nasty taste in my mouth.

Becca was soon asking to go back into the water.

I looked at her mother, Mary, and asked, "how far can she go?"

Mary said, "as far as you want to go."

I thought, "of course, it's not like I'm going to let anything happen to Becca. Plus, she can swim."

I knew there wasn't a rip current that can pull you under very easily so I felt confident that we could keep going as far as they wanted to go.

We went far enough that when we were riding the waves, my feet were barely able to touch the bottom without being in over my head. I would try to jump up at times and Becca would stand on my legs pushing me down at that moment when I was about to jump up and over the waves.

It was so amazing and so much fun. I felt like a big brother or a father figure. It didn't seem that her father had any problem with the fact that the kids wanted to spend more time with me than with him... Lynn's cousin didn't mind this either.

The "grown-ups" stayed on the shore talking. What I mean is that Lynn, her cousin Mary, and her husband Frank were deep in conversation while we - Becca and her sister Tammy - played in the ocean.

Yeah, this was so exciting. I think that I was meant for this.

They spent a few days with us, and I became the one that was responsible for entertaining the kids. I didn't mind and in fact, I loved it.

I noticed my heart was racing the entire time. I couldn't sit still. It wasn't an uncomfortable feeling, though. I just was full of energy and excitement. I couldn't even slow down enough to use the bathroom; I was so full of energy.

I took both the girls to the nearby grocery store and a few other places because they wanted to spend time with me. I let myself be carefree and child-like. Yes, I was a responsible adult, but I still had the ability to be playful.

This might be useful when I do play therapy if I get clients who have children.

Then the girls, Tammy and Becca wanted to go roller skating. So, I went outside in our neighborhood and let them skate there. 

Lynn and I were living in the house at 2240 Brucemont Drive, the place her mother had bought for us. It was a quiet street without much traffic so that was ideal for this.

During the visit, the grown-ups wanted to go roller skating too. That was the only thing I could not do. The little girls were completely able to do this.

Lynn and her cousin, Mary and Frank could roller skate, along with the girls but I could not do that.

We drove to the University of North Carolina, Wilmington campus. They had a network of sidewalks where they could go roller skating. We rented roller skates for the adults. The girls had brought their own skates.

Lynn encouraged me to try to skate. I could not get moving. It was frustrating. Everyone else could do this and I could not. I gave Lynn my hands and let her pull me around on the skates for a little while. This was one of the times, other than at bedtime when Lynn and I were alone together. We let the others go ahead and skate while Lynn tried to teach me how to skate.

Her cousin or the girls would approach us, say a few words and it seemed that they could sense that I felt uncomfortable and frustrated. I wasn't being rude but I said I felt embarrassed.

Finally, I just took off the roller skates and walked a bit next to Lynn. The girls were roller skating still.

We later drove up to Scranton, Pennsylvania, and stayed with her cousins for a few days.

Welcome and Unwelcome Touching

What I am about to describe is important to note because not all sexual touching is welcome, and gender has nothing to do with that. I have been touched in my genital area when I did not want that to happen and had said so. That would be sexual assault.

No, means no! No matter what!

Lynn was a bit mischievous on the drive up there. While I was driving, she unzipped my pants and started stimulating me. I said, "what if someone comes up on the right?"

She knew what made me feel pleasure and how I liked to be touched. It had to be gentle and there are places where I do NOT want to be touched down there. But Lynn knew how and where to touch me and where not to touch me.

This was different than the impression I got from my parents. My mother would describe sex as something she owed to her husband. She had said when I was a young adult that "even if she might not be in the mood, she understood that a man has needs."

Yuck, that seemed so cold, unromantic, and just plain disturbing. I also had rejected all those traditional ideas such as the man being the head of the household.

I felt lucky to know that she wasn't the one in the relationship who had to wait to initiate sexual contact, which was something I had been noticing for a few years now. I liked that a great deal.

I wanted a more egalitarian relationship, and I definitely did not want to be the person within the relationship that had the greater sexual appetite or interests.

Like the highway we were traveling, the relationship was a journey that we both were on together.

Spending Time in Pennsylvania with Lynn's Cousin

When we were staying with her cousin, Lynn and I slept on an inflatable mattress on the floor in their living room, but Lynn's cousin gave us their kid's bedroom to get dressed and shower.

There's a contrast that stands with my own family and Lynn suggesting that we sleep in separate beds when we are in their home. Granted I am now talking about events in 1997 but even if it was 1994, right after Lynn and I moved in together, it would NEVER have occurred to anyone in Lynn's extended family to ask us to sleep in different beds or imply or suggest this. 

It just would never have occurred to anyone.

If I had been more assertive and just said to my parents that is not acceptable and we either won't visit for Christmas or we will get a motel, Lynn would have gone along with that.

With her cousins like with her mother, that was the last thing that ever crossed my mind or their minds! 

I feel a need to make that clear, dear reader.

Again, when we came to visit them, I was like the big brother or babysitter. I suppose that word is a misnomer when it comes to spending time with a girl who is in her early teens. I was the one who spent time with the kids while the "grownups" did their thing together.

It was exciting for me. Lynn was happy to see her cousin.

The girls loved to show me places, where we could walk to have fun - the park, a nearby school with swings... or they would show me things in their rooms. We played games in the yard or on the driveway outside. They weren't tomboys. They just liked having fun and showing off.

Many people have noticed how much I enjoy and relate well to kids. Lynn's cousin clearly enjoyed, and Lynn appreciated, the freedom that they had while I occupied the kids.

They could just forget about their kids for a few days!

It was a perfect arrangement!

Does this imply that I wanted to have kids? Yes, of course. Lynn felt bad about this. She knew that I understood the situation and she knew that I was in love with her.

I might love my job. I might love the kids but being in love with your wife is obviously different. Neither the job nor the kids in my life when they were around could meet the deeper and more profound needs that exist for a person like me or for a couple. At least that was always my impression.

Lynn was mine, chose me, wanted to live with me, and that, more than anything else, brought me the deepest and most profound joy and serenity.

I haven't known anything more profoundly important than this love that we shared. Nothing else has meant as much to me as Lynn.

Some parents have described the bond they have with their children to be even more important than that of a couple. I can't imagine a more intimate bond than Lynn and I had. 

Family life is what makes life meaningful and joyful. Being able to pay attention to maintaining a balanced life is crucial when you're working in the field of mental health. Some psychiatric disorders impact us as therapists who witness the pain of others.

You might think I am only talking about the traumatic experiences of clients who have been hurt but anytime one is dealing with negative emotions all day one can find that it puts a strain on us as therapists. We listen to the despair, sadness, and negativity of others and it can have an impact on us.

The responsibility that we bear for the well-being of others requires us to have a life full of joy and peace outside the workweek. We need balance in life.

Wanting my family to be impressed with me

Of course, we want those who are part of our family to be proud of us. I was certain that I had the admiration of my brother and sister and that I had made my parents proud. As far as I could tell at the time, it had seemed that they would have been proud of me, finally. Their investment in my education had paid off. I had used it to get another degree, a graduate degree, then to get credentialed/licensed in my field.

They had to be proud. I had not been questioning this at the time. I just assumed they were happy for me as well. I had found love! That would make anyone feel good to know this about a family member.

Anyway, my career path was carefully and deliberately chosen with the aid of psychology and a psychologist/counselor when I was in college. Then in the many years after that, I pursued employment opportunities based on my aptitudes, interests, and values. While I got advice and support from others, I made all the decisions myself with the insights I was gaining.

I had told my siblings and my parents why we couldn't have children and why we couldn't have a church wedding or a marriage license - Lynn's medical care could be cut off if she lost health care coverage.

The fact that my sister worked for a company that sold health insurance was a topic I didn't know how to address. In retrospect, this had nothing to do with "insurance" because no insurance company should have to pay for a pre-existing condition. We need a medical clinic and a doctor to worry about her treatment, not an insurance agent.

Anyway, I also obviously wanted them to be impressed that I had overcome so much to achieve so much success in life. I had gone to college with zero social skills and now I was counseling others and treating people with problems I once had.

Career Success and Friends

My friends were proud of me, as was my wife, Lynn. I had a social circle of like-minded poets who were part of the poetry scene in Wilmington. These friendships continued to grow.

Sometimes when I was learning experiential therapy techniques that were part of the human potential's movement, I was able to persuade my friends to participate in encounter sessions. This would be like using these techniques for those of us who are not coming together to work on a psychiatric problem. You don't do therapy with your friends or your wife for that matter.

I might invite my friends to try something like psychodrama – a fancy word for role-playing. Alternatively, I demonstrated guided imagery and visualization techniques.

It was nice to see that my friends were interested in what I was learning and wanted to try things out with my guidance.

I also demonstrated clinical hypnosis with Lynn. She was receptive to the idea of visualizing her body fighting the symptoms of Cystic Fibrosis... maybe visualizing where the congestion was and directing her body to try to loosen it up.

Anything to bring healing was worthy of trying.

Most of the time she kept falling asleep when I did this. This was a bit frustrating to me but amusing.

I guess it reflected the trust and serenity Lynn found when she was with me.

In this section, I will describe the years of my career after I finally reached my career and professional goals, dreams, and aspirations. This was twelve years of hard work, never giving up, never letting any obstacle remain too much of a challenge for me to overcome. I was passionate, motivated, a very hard worker, relentless in pursuit of my goals.

It's also important to understand that for people like myself, we feel good when we are able to help another person. It feels good. That being said, what we do is NOT about us. It's about the client or in an inpatient setting, it's about the patients.

This is the backdrop to the life I was sharing with Lynn.

I suppose that is a feature of empathy - you feel with another person. So, if they find relief, you feel it with them. If they are happy, you rejoice with them.

Of course, if a client is depressed, manic, fearful, or traumatized you empathize which is like feeling with them but you have to stay grounded so you can help them. You have to resonate with a person and act in sync with them so that you can guide them toward a better more positive mental state or mindset.

Anyway, this section will pick up at my graduation from the University of South Carolina in the School of Social Work and my entrance into the field that I had been pursuing since I was 18, twelve years ago.  

Over the next four years of our life together, I was becoming successful in my field. I had gained a great deal of experience as a social work volunteer, followed by my jobs in the mental health field before I got my degree. These jobs were as a paraprofessional.

Lynn had been so supportive along the way and nothing would have been possible for me without her support. So, all the hundreds of people who were helped by me owe Lynn a debt of gratitude as well. I definitely needed support. 

I graduated from the University of South Carolina with a Master's in Social Work in May of 1996, but the education of a therapist/psychotherapist never ends.

By the time I graduated of my graduation with a Master's in Social Worker (MSW), I had a job to start in an inpatient psychiatric hospital named Brynn Marr Psychiatric Hospital in Jacksonville, North Carolina.

This seemed like a perfect opportunity because I had worked at "The Oaks" - a psychiatric hospital - as an intern which I mentioned previously in earlier chapters. The Oaks like Brynn Marr were somewhat similar.

I was hired with the title of "Therapist" on the adult unit. I was one of two therapists on the unit. Half the patients were assigned to me and the other half were assigned to the other therapist on the unit.

What I mean by saying that I was assigned half the patients, was that I was responsible for all aspects of their care while they were in the hospital, and I was responsible for discharge planning, also known as case management. That doesn't mean that I did the kinds of things that nurses and psychiatrists do. I just meant that I was the primary point of contact.

The other therapist on the unit, Leslie, had a master's in social work (MSW) like me and she was a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW).

I had taken the clinical exam right away after graduation and applied for the certification/credentials/license of Licensed Clinical Social Worker – Provisional (LCSW-P). I did this at about the same time I was starting work at Brynn Marr as I had to first graduate from college with my master's degree before I could take the clinical exam or seek that provisional licensure.

There was a substance abuse counselor as well, but he only offered group therapy sessions. It's interesting how lived experience as an addict allows people to work as a counselor without the same educational requirements, i.e., a master's degree.

Our supervisor was more of an administrator than a therapist or counselor.

There were several group therapy sessions every week that had to be run by either myself or the other therapist. We could provide individual therapy as well for each of the patients according to their needs, problems, interests, and diagnosis. I like the idea of a psychotherapist doing most of the therapy groups.

I found that the patients loved to have the opportunity to receive individual therapy sessions with me. This was incredibly good for my self-esteem and my sense of competency. You know that you are doing something right if you are finding that patients want to spend time with you for therapy sessions.

I did have a great deal of flexibility and freedom in offering or being available for therapy with patients.

In terms of group therapy, I had learned techniques in my second year of graduate school. I had observed the skills and talents of Chris Hauge at The Oaks who was a mentor of mine and who supervised me during my second-year internship.

I had picked up a workbook that had a number of ideas and techniques for running therapy groups – some ice breakers – to supplement what I had already learned.

The only problem that I noticed was that the hospital wasn't able to provide therapy services to those who didn't have good insurance. This was a for-profit hospital, and I didn't like the profit motive.

As a social worker, I had been motivated by a desire to help those who are most financially vulnerable within society. So, the idea of not being able to treat those who don't have good insurance didn't sit so well with me.

Later in my career, I would provide psychotherapy to individuals pro-bono. I NEVER wanted someone's ability to pay to be a barrier to my services.

You see this in so many settings. Sometimes it seems that the only people who "get it" when you are needy and need help are those who have struggled and dealt with poverty or homelessness themselves. We feel an obligation to share whatever fortune comes our way or whatever might be helpful.

That wasn't me though. Even before I knew real poverty, I could "get it" and empathize with the most vulnerable people in society.

Let me give an example of what I mean about my own values. There was a patient named Victoria - whose real identity I cannot reveal. She was there for anorexia and complications related to that. It became clear that she did not qualify for any more Medicare inpatient hospital days and I was asked by my supervisor to just focus on a referral for her to get treatment elsewhere.

This was my first job after graduation and so I didn't think of myself as necessarily an expert on eating disorders. However, if she wanted individual therapy with me, I wasn't going to deny her that.

My supervisor also wanted her to attend group sessions every day while she was there. I guess the staff started to think she was "difficult." Whatever challenges she might present, that wasn't a factor in how a patient should be treated.

She had said she felt that this was a hostile environment for her as a result of this. She had specifically asked that I be her therapist and not the woman therapist on the unit who was about my age but may have had a few more years experience than I did.

At one point, this topic of the hostile environment on the unit came up when I was sitting down with my supervisor. I was sitting alone with my supervisor when he asked me, "do you think this is a hostile environment for Victoria?"

I answered, "Yes, I think this is a hostile and non-therapeutic environment for her."

There was a point in the middle of the day when they were going to speak to her - the other therapist, perhaps the substance abuse counselor, the administrator (my supervisor). It seemed like they were ganging up on her. I made sure to be there to support her.

I remember her listening and she seemed uncomfortable, and I felt it too. I had positioned myself so that I was at her side beside her while the others spoke in a way that was confrontational, I felt. Symbolically, I felt it was normal and expected even in this setting for me to represent her interests. 

To make clear where I stood, I said "I have discussed how I agree that this has become a hostile and non-therapeutic environment for you, Victoria."

She was told that she needed to attend groups every day. 

She said emphatically, "fine, I'll go to Bruce's groups and that's it!"

Of course, that made me feel good. I'm not saying that Victoria wasn't a challenge. It just felt good to hear that I had made such a positive impression on a patient. This wasn't the only such experience.

In addition, it bothered me that my supervisor was seemingly implying that I could not provide therapy for Victoria because she needed to go to a place that specialized in eating disorders. And because they were not making money on her stay there! 

It was clear that it was about the hospital getting paid and that disgusted me!

She wanted therapy and would come by my office or I would walk around the unit and she would approach me asking to meet with me.

They seemed to want to just get rid of her since they weren't going to get a great deal of money from her. The master's level social worker that was also working on the unit seemed to have lost the passion that had inspired her to go into social work - that's how it seemed to me. That was confusing to me.

There were some patients like Victoria who had Borderline Personality Disorder, which can be challenging for therapists. I know my co-worker, Leslie, (the other therapist on the adult unit) used this term pejoratively and as their excuse for not being able to connect with and make progress with some patients.

There is a great book that gives the reader a great way to understand borderline personality disorder - it's called "I Hate You, Don't Leave Me." Some people will vacillate between idealizing and hating a person.

I believe this is a result of certain parenting styles.

At times I felt like I was walking on eggshells with Victoria. I felt challenged to demonstrate that I cared about her and was concerned for her welfare. Sometimes she would walk away angry and then come back or get up to go but then sit back down.

I remember her storming out of the office saying "you are just like everyone else, you don't care... I can't stand you."

Then the next day I saw her, and she approached me in the morning as if nothing happened. She just said, "can you meet with me for therapy?"

I answered, "yes, after group."

She smiled and said, "I'll be there for your group, I'm not going to Leslie's groups."

"I know," I answered with a smile of amusement, adding, "I'll see you in a few minutes."

You just have to be thick-skinned and not take things like this personally.

Thinking about being a couple

As a sign of my dedication to helping others and my enjoyment, I want to describe an experience when I was working as hurricane Fran was about to come ashore.

I had to learn to think about more than myself and my own lack of fear of hurricanes. Lynn would be worried about me working late as a hurricane comes ashore.

Lynn was much more afraid of hurricanes than I was. She was from California where they have earthquakes, and I would say that at least with a hurricane the earth doesn't open up like it's going to swallow you. We had debated which was worse a hurricane or an earthquake. To her, the waiting and suspense of knowing the hurricane is coming made it worse.

Anyway, Hurricane Fran was due to make landfall on the Cape Fear River in Wilmington after 8 PM.

I was sitting there talking to Victoria and the hour was a few minutes after 5:00 PM. I noticed a phone call coming in. Lynn had my direct extension.

"This is Lynn, I need to take this," I said to Victoria. I must have mentioned Lynn. 

"Hello, this is Bruce," I said not entirely sure yet who was calling.

"Hi," I heard Lynn say followed by "what are you doing?"

"I'm working," I said.

I could hear Victoria laugh as I said this.

"You need to come home." She said, "The roads are flooding and ..."

I listened to her concerns and said, "Okay, I will leave now."

"Be careful, honey, I am worried," She said adding "I have seen some of the roads. You might not be afraid of hurricanes as much as me, but you need to think about me."

"I'm sorry," I answered Lynn.

Victoria had been listening and she was understanding of the situation. I told her that I needed to go because Lynn was worried, and I said that I would see her the next workday. I wasn't sure if that would be tomorrow, Friday. As it turned out, I didn't come in on Friday after the hurricane, but I did come on Saturday. Victoria was there on Saturday.

Overall, I made good progress with Victoria, but I wasn't able to get her placed in a treatment center for eating disorders. Instead, she ended up moving in with another patient that she had met in the hospital.

Success and Accomplishments
 

It was amazing to me that I was able to overcome the social anxiety that I had throughout most of my life. The only manifestation of this anxiety existed when I had to lead therapy groups. I needed to be able to meet the challenges and do what the job required.

This was the career I had chosen, and I was determined to succeed. The sense of accomplishment that I felt in what I was doing - in being able to lead therapy groups - was rewarding and filled me with joy.

I had come a long way in my journey over these past 12 years!

I would feel a bit of anxiety when I had to run therapy groups, but I found a way to not let it show. I knew that I was talented and had a great deal to offer. This confidence in my competency made things easier for me. I also knew that if I wasn't doing a good job, the patients would have indicated this.

All eyes were on me during the groups, and I realized they were looking at me for guidance and treatment.

People came to my therapy groups and seemed to be getting something out of it and they seemed to want to listen to me.

Four years earlier, when I first arrived in Wilmington, I read my poetry to groups of people. I had stood up in a room and declared my love for Lynn in a poem. Now, I was doing something similar every day on the job.

There was something amazing about the realization of this. Like everything else happening in my life at this time, I didn't take anything for granted. I had a sense of awe whenever I reflected upon these things... and I did reflect upon everything that was happening.

I should say something about the setting... where I was working.

Brynn Marr Psychiatric Hospital was located near the Marine base at Camp Lejeune. Many of the patients were affiliated with the Marine base but not all, obviously.

One might imagine that post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) was a common problem that patients were confronting when they were in the hospital since there are veterans and veteran families. Combat experience can cause PTSD, obviously.

That being said, there were not that many veterans with PTSD that I treated. It could be that most veterans are men and it's harder for men to talk about traumatic experiences.

I saw a large number of women who were patients at the hospital and most of them had no military or combat experience.

I did work with one patient who reported that he thought he might have PTSD due to past combat experience and his fears and concerns were related to events that might have a basis in traumatic events and experiences during combat.

As I listened to him, it became more and more obvious that he was actually suffering from a psychotic disorder.

You have to keep your mind open and listen to others. You can't have pre-conceived notions such as assuming that a story that sounds like a traumatic combat memory is that. The location where Brynn Marr was located did not dictate how I thought about the experiences or patients. In other words, I didn't look for trauma disorders.

Anyway, as I was saying above, I knew that I was good at what I do. I knew I was competent and talented. That's an amazing feeling. I had a tremendous amount of passion for helping others and I had a tremendous amount of compassion and empathy.

My Other Family

I was still maintaining a relationship with my parents and siblings. But I only saw them for part of a day most of the time when they did visit.

I think that when my brother and/or sister came they came for part of the day only, as well. I guess they were too good for us or so it seemed to me at the time. I could be wrong in the way I am interpreting these events.

While I had sought their advice regarding the moral dilemma of living with Lynn and how we couldn't get married, it seemed clear that they understood I had no other options available to me. And it seemed infinitely clear that we were living as husband and wife and that we made love routinely (almost every day).

Then we went to visit for Christmas, and Lynn suggested that we sleep in different beds because we were under their roof. Symbolically, this felt so uncomfortable. It cheapened the relationship, made it seem less than the union of two becoming one body and one soul.

In my mind, we had been married in the eyes of God. When Lynn said that we should sleep in different beds at my parent's house around Christmas, that seemed to only confuse me.

In retrospect, if I had said that they must see us as two people who are committed to one another like any husband and wife, she would have been open to my reasoning. I should have said, "well, if they dishonor our union, I am not going there!"

I should have said to them that if they want me to visit for the holidays, we will be sleeping together like any married couple.

To be honest, our union seemed more holy or special than anything I saw in my grandparents, cousins, parents, or even with my brother and his wife.

I would be so affectionate with Lynn everywhere and all the time. I had seen my parents kiss, but it was so perfunctory. I am not saying that a couple should make out in front of others, but they should look like the kiss says something like Lynn and I did. We took the time to meet each other's gaze and slowly moved toward one another, letting our lips meet and pause for just a moment.

I don't remember my brother ever showing that kind of affection when he brought his wife for the holidays.

I am just saying that as a shy person I was doing things that are not "normal" for a shy person.

With Lynn and me, it was inescapable and unavoidable... for us to hold one another, hold hands. I also loved this because it was a declaration that said, "I love Lynn!"

Actually, I NEEDED to be close to her and feel her body when I was visiting for Christmas. I had felt uncomfortable with the entire arrangement and it sickened me that I didn't protest when Lynn suggested sleeping in different beds.

In my mind, this was not any less holy than the union of my parents, or grandparents, or less holy than any union of any husband and wife. If anything, this was more special than what I had seen. In my extended family, I never saw anything that said, "I can tell they are in love."

You might wonder why I am even saying this, dear reader. It's not to denigrate others but to exult the depth, breadth, and holiness of the union of Lynn and Bruce. 

Intimacy Issues as a Form of Discovery

I do know some things about how couples make love. As a psychotherapist that is something that is discussed. I learned about the male and female sexual responses. I studied master's and Johnson's research on activities that are practiced by couples.

What was unique about our relationship, the one Lynn and I had was that neither one of us expected the other person to have any experience in this area or to be sexually compatible. It was more of an area of discovery for both of us.

Some though not all gay men do enjoy anal sex. Often among heterosexual couples, this is more pleasurable to the male because they think the anal passage is tighter. While some females may want this, it is more common for males to ask for this.

This was not something I was seeking in my relationship with Lynn nor was she.

Speaking of same-sex relationships, oral sex is another way that people express love and is commonly practiced by gay men. I would learn this from my clients. 

Oral sex is practiced quite commonly by heterosexual men and women as well.

Anyway, I knew that this fluid is made up largely of the same components as mucus. That fact made oral sex seem unappealing. Previously, I mentioned when Lynn was in the hospital or at the clinic and she was asked to provide a mucus sample, I noted that I had a weak stomach, meaning it made me queasy.

These observations about mucus meant that I did not expect, nor did Lynn expect oral sex despite the fact that this is "normal" and commonly enjoyed by the recipient and the giver, regardless of sexual orientation. Those who do speak about these things with researchers or their therapists are the source of my knowledge.

No part of our bodies was "taboo" though. We both endeavored to explore anything that would increase the pleasure of one another in bringing about an orgasm. So, we did everything short of activities that would involve tasting each other's bodily fluids.

I felt such incredible love for Lynn that I wanted to demonstrate that in every way possible. I knew she wanted to do the same for me and with me.

But it was more of a case of exploration and discovering what brought us the greatest pleasure and what we were both comfortable doing.

I felt so lucky that this was happening. I felt lucky to know that I wasn't expected to do anything with some level of competency as I had heard discussed when I was a psychotherapist providing couples therapy or with my individual clients.

I felt lucky also that we weren't talking about sexual competency.

Sex was for us a way of expressing our love and it was intense and intensely pleasurable as a result of the love that we felt for each other. 

However, it is true that some people mistake this extreme pleasure for love. There is a big difference between making love with a spouse than just plain sex, though it is easy to get confused by the feelings.

After we knew what activities we were comfortable doing we could offer or ask for certain things. I was still a believer (a Christian), and so I saw this as a blessing, a miracle, and a true sense that we were one body. Our bodies were our gifts to one another. And that was holy! More holy than I could have imagined.

I'm a romantic and I believe in the concept of the two becoming one and are united forever, which is as long as we exist.

As I mentioned, Lynn and I couldn't have a wedding because our combined income might make her ineligible for the state health plan that would cover her treatment.

Okay, so this speaks to just how madly in love with Lynn I was. Anything happening to her was terrifying. I had asked her to marry me, given her a ring, and committed myself to her forever. But without a wedding or a "legal" marriage.

We even tried going to the Catholic church to get married but without a marriage certificate and they would not allow that. The fact that we didn't have a wedding didn't change anything.

If you are thinking that I imagined getting married to someone else someday, the answer is NO! I had found the one for me! Lynn. So, my commitment to Lynn was forever.

Let this all sink in for a moment. We were in a rush with time hoping that they find a cure for Cystic Fibrosis - a genetic illness - so that she would live past her fifties. That's what I needed!

Treatment can cost several thousand dollars per year during good years. Even her mother could not afford that and their good insurance wouldn't cover Lynn's medical care.

What do I mean by a "bad year?" And what was it like in general, even during good years?

Occasionally, she would use an inhaler but that didn't seem to happen very frequently.

I drove her or we drove together to her clinic appointments in Chapel Hill. From Wilmington, that was a drive of over two hours. It happened for the most part only once a year.

They would check her oxygen saturation... take X-rays to see the scarring and the buildup of mucus in her chest.

Lynn was good about letting me sit in on every meeting, such as when she was taken to a room to be examined by first a nurse and then a doctor.

Most of the time we were very lucky because she was so very healthy for someone with this very serious and debilitating disease.

I might have turned away or left a room when they wanted to collect a mucus sample. Lynn understood that I had a weak stomach.

Anyway, so much of this was becoming routine. Most of the time.

I asked so many questions all the time. "What is that dark spot in her chest area that you described in the X-Ray? Is that mucus or scarring?"

The doctor would answer, "well, here is some excess mucus that needs to be cleared, and here is some scarring?"

"Wait, how do we clear that mucus?" I asked.

"Have you learned how to do the tapping?" the doctor asked.

"Yes, we learned about that from the physical therapist." I answered, adding a question "but it's still worrisome."

Then I asked, "What about that device that she is supposed to wear, is that better?"

"Not necessarily," the doctor answered.

Then Lynn said, "it doesn't clear it out for me, I can tell it's still there." Then she turned to me and said, "I told you about the problems and asked for your help the other day."

I felt so guilty. "Oh, my God, Lynn, I am so sorry." Adding, "it's scary for me. I know you need me and I'm trying. I'm scared when you are not well. That makes me feel guilty because I should be there for you... but I get sad and scared about the meaning of these problems."

I paused and added with tears running down my face, "I want a 'normal life' ... and if anything happens to you... I just love you so much, you make me feel good and happy. I can't imagine not having you with me."

"I know sweetie, I have had more time to deal with this," she said.

"Okay, so I still have a lot of questions," I said.

"Okay, ask away," answered Lynn with a smile that said she knew I really cared.

Then turning to the doctor, I said, "so, how often and for how long should I do the tapping to clear up the mucus as it builds up?"

"Well, about 15 to 30 minutes at a time in the evening would be good," answered the doctor.

"And the scarring, that looks big, what..." I could barely get my words out I was so full of anxiety and sadness... trying hard to be strong for Lynn.

It is SO MUCH easier to do this with clients or patients at a psych hospital.

Dear reader, I hope that is somewhat intuitive but maybe I shouldn't assume. I wasn't in love with my clients or the patients I served. We weren't sharing our lives together. They were not in love with me either. At least I hope not – that's another issue for later.

Also, the big secret that I have been avoiding is that Cystic Fibrosis is a deadly disease! I could lose Lynn forever!

My blood runs cold when I think of this as it did at the time. It's interesting how similar sensations can feel so different. When we were at the clinic discussing these matters, I could feel chills running through me... not the kind that I felt at the touch of Lynn's hand or her lips on mine.

I was, for the most part, able to push these issues out of my mind and not think about the reality of it. But on these visits, we had to look at this darkness in our life. Scarring and mucus appeared as dark patches on the X-Ray of her lungs and this darkness on her lungs was like the darkness in our lives.

In answer to the question I posed about the scarring, the doctor said, "her lungs still have a capacity to breathe and get enough oxygen to function in many normal activities."

During the visits, I would learn about how the scarring makes the lungs less elastic and that makes it harder for them to expand and get enough air to engage in certain activities that we take for granted... running, hiking, or walking long distances. And scars don't heal.

So, even if they had a cure that doesn't mean that everything would be fine.

When her health got worse...

There was a time in late 1996 when Lynn had to go into the hospital. Her lung functioning had gotten poorer or weaker and they wanted to put her on IV antibiotics in the hospital.

The doctor had explained that they wanted to go after the infections in her lungs. They had to try some of the latest antibiotics that were thought to be more effective in people with Cystic Fibrosis (CF). They were always learning new things about the disease and people were living longer.

It was scary for both of us. Waiting there in the lobby of the hospital I tried to stay positive and tell myself that things would be okay.

Then she was brought to an inpatient unit that was used for treating individuals with CF.

When Lynn asked me to get her something from downstairs – a drink and a candy bar – I was somewhat glad to have that opportunity. I was struggling to stay still. That's how anxious I was. I had a strong urge to walk. I couldn't sit still hardly. I was also sick to my stomach. That's what happens when I am anxious or scared. I felt queasy or nauseous.

I held her hand as they inserted the IV. I asked the nurse "what is that?" referring to the fluid that was being introduced into her IV.

"This is just saline solution," she answered... adding, "the doctor will give us an order to tell us which medications to give her."

I was sitting on the bed looking at Lynn. No words were spoken for a few moments.

"Do you want a book, or to play cards?" I asked, "or how can we pass the time?"

Lynn asked for a book by Anne McCaffery, one of her newest books that she had not read. Anne McCaffrey is a fantasy writer and I knew that she was a fan of her books. So, I just needed to know the title of the latest book.

"I want to stay with you," I said.

"I understand," she answered. "I am glad you are with me."

"Me too."

I added, "I can just be reading something too, a book that I like, as I sit with you."

"Okay, that sounds good."

"You can go meet my friend Carolyn," she said. This was a friend who also had CF and she lived in Chapel Hill. We were living in Wilmington about two hours away. I'm not sure how Lynn connected with Carolyn.

"Yes, we will see her when you get out too," I said. "Before we go home.

Visiting hours don't usually allow people to stay all night. That night I was in bed next to Lynn, on her left. She was asleep with my arm resting on her stomach or her chest. I just wanted to feel her breathing. We made sure the IV was out of the way.

I heard the door open, and I looked up to see a nurse checking in. She didn't say anything.

This finally ended and she came home. Our life went back to normal.

The life I had with Lynn seemed ideal in many ways. As husband and wife, I saw myself as having achieved the greatest thing I had always wanted in life - a family.

I said that we could not have children. Nonetheless, we were a family now.

My friend Jean commented upon how much Lynn and I argued. I, therefore, feel there is value in addressing that topic.

In an earlier chapter, I discussed an incident that puts things in perspective. Jean was only partially a part of the scene. I think it is worth it to present this event again.

Lynn and I had come to a book signing by Jean Arthur Jones and a video presentation at a coffee house downtown. He had released a chapbook of poetry. Lynn and I had been arguing about something and our conversation was almost non-existent as I drove downtown with Lynn next to me.

After I had Jean sign a book for me and then one for Lynn I then brought it upstairs and of course Jean went on with signing other books for others. He didn't see what transpired next when I returned to Lynn upstairs. 

When I handed her the signed copy of Jean's book, she let her beautiful smile wash over her face as she accepted the book and then a smile as she slightly laughed a bit frustrated because she couldn't stay mad at me.

I had answered, "well, it doesn't mean that I don't still love you." I was commenting on the things that made me mad. It also said a great deal about the fact, the truth that nothing that happened EVER changed the nature of my love for Lynn.

It was an experience that I remember as an epiphany that Lynn and I recognized. Yet it was only one such experience. I would always feel bad when we weren't talking. I couldn't stand letting that go on for hours.

Knowing that no argument was going to divide us was an observation that was profoundly important. It was an absolute truth that we knew! Always! I would use some version of this scenario to break the silence.

As a counselor, I heard clients talk about their relationships. I remember hearing someone say that he and his girlfriend have a "really special relationship." I was baffled as he had described a tension that had existed for days and a distance between them that had gone on for days. That didn't seem like a special relationship at all!

I absolutely could not stand the tension and the idea that Lynn wasn't happy or that I hurt her feelings. Maybe I blurted something out that I regretted. I didn't usually get a gift like that evening when I brought her the book – I just happened to be planning to do that already that evening. At other times I would get close to her and smile, get her to make eye contact. She almost seemed frustrated that she couldn't stay mad.

It almost felt like I was arguing with myself as I was discussing things. I was thinking about old ideas that I had accepted without thought. We discussed everything so we were going to disagree from time to time.

Anyway, some of these arguments came from the influence of religious teaching/brainwashing that I had been exposed to in life. I had embraced certain absolutes as a result of that teaching.

These were not times when we demonstrated disrespect for one another. Sometimes I wonder if some couples let resentments exist and they accommodate them by ignoring the topic just like families consider "politics" to be taboo.

Our Home

We got two cats that we named Tip and Boo. Diane set up a swinging door to the garage so that the cats could get out there to the little box. We both had cars, but we kept them outside because we used the garage for other things. I started to gain some weight and Lynn bought a machine where I could run or walk on it for exercise. I also had weights and a punching bag. Gestalt therapy encourages us to act out our anger but I'm getting ahead of myself.

We bought two ladders, stained them, as opposed to painting. Diane brought a stud finder so that we could put nails in the wall for the bookcases that we were building across the back room toward the right where we also set up a computer. Oh, we got cable internet when that was available.

The backroom to the left would be a spare room with a couch that we could offer a guest if they visited, like Lynn's cousins. We put a larger TV in that room too. It wasn't a flatscreen – this was the 90s!

In the bedroom, we had another TV. Next to the bed, Lynn had the equipment that she used to receive inhaled medications. We both liked Star Trek and would watch that on a smaller TV in the bedroom. I was getting busier and busier, so I watched TV less than Lynn did. Due to Lynn's income limits, she couldn't work as much as I did.

She did sell her pottery on consignment at various places and at certain events. 

For meals, we had been learning to cook together for some time. I wasn't as practical as she was which just meant that she would say whose turn it was to cook or if she wanted me to cook dinner for whatever reason. We handled cleaning the same way. She basically directed me as to how she wanted to see things cleaned.

We took turns emptying the litter which would not be possible if her health got bad. It's not good for her to breathe the dust. I do feel guilty for asking her to do that at all. It was part of my denial of her condition. Some of the cleaning I had to do for the same reason, to keep her from inhaling certain things. Her lungs were not as strong or healthy as mine.

Memories and Dreams of Abuse

Memories of the abuse I experienced growing up were never far from my mind or they were not far enough from my mind... they were not buried deep enough, unfortunately. I was still having nightmares related to the abuse I had experienced in the past.
 

I had been assaulted - verbally, physically, and emotionally. Adding to that the emotional neglect from my parents and it's no surprise that nightmares would find their way into my nights...

In my dreams, I would sometimes be striking out at my parents. There was a point between waking and sleeping that made it seem like I was hitting the bed, punching it. So much time has passed, and I have processed it over the years. As a result, the memories have faded.

What I remember was being afraid that as my hands were flailing about in the bed that I might hit Lynn. That is what I remember! It makes my blood run cold to imagine that. 

I remember that I would describe, to Lynn, the actual memory that was related to the nightmare that had awakened me. This was over a decade since I had left home and so the abuse that I was remembering was still creeping into my dreams. 

Nights with Lynn in bed right next to me. Just as my hands swung in my dream in efforts at fighting back, so did my arms seem to be flailing about in the bed. Sometimes I would be hitting the bed or punching the bed.

I only remember that she had assured me that she wasn't afraid and that my hands had not moved as much as I imagined. Oh, and that I did shout loud enough for us both to wake up. This was happening until I was about 30!

Serenity and Intimacy

What I do remember is an awareness that my desire for nurturance growing up explained why I sought to cuddle so much. I also had tension headaches and some stomach problems. I would rest my head on her lap as she caressed my forehead.

Prior to when we moved in together, though, we had not had sex.

After that things were different.

She knew how attracted I was to her. For Valentine's Day, I suggested that she get a sexy and revealing outfit at Victoria's Secret or some such place. I was so touched that she did this. I felt like she had not usually tried to look beautiful or attractive to the same degree as some females do. She didn't wear much make-up or look like some females that I might otherwise think are objectively attractive. Despite the fact that she was not trying to look beautiful, to me, she was the most beautiful woman in the world and she knew that.

Anyway, getting that outfit, that sexy, revealing outfit, this was my gift. She knew it aroused me. I would find myself unable to contain myself and would get up and gently say "can I take this off?" and she would laugh about the effort she had gone to and how soon it came off.

It seems strange to be talking like this... about intimacy. But it was so new a discovery... every time. I would marvel at the idea of someone desiring me - emotionally, sexually.

These days we see on TV and in the movies and I heard growing up that this was something physical. The closeness that Lynn and I had was something different, mysterious, and an awesome discovery as if no one has known about these things until we discovered these experiences. Maybe it is the creative part of me that is inclined to think these things. - the romantic poet.

What I am hinting at is the fact that unlike the notions I got from family and my other observations from our culture, men don't have to take the lead. We don't and shouldn't make the first move, expecting our wives and girlfriends to agree to what is happening.

With my parents, it seemed like sex was taboo but at one point my mother made some comments that made it seem like it was her obligation to meet her husband's desires. I cannot overstate how different things were with Lynn and me. There was not even a hint of role expectations.

As far as sex goes, Lynn didn't wait for me to bring up the topic of sex on every occasion when we were intimate. It was also not a situation where either of us was expecting the other one to know what to do. We discovered each other's bodies and what felt good. It was like exploring. I guess she didn't direct me at first and vice versa because we didn't know what the other one was comfortable doing.

Unless we were both in bed already and the lights had gone out, neither of us was "not in the mood" much of the time and this was beautiful to me. We could tell if one of us was busy, tired, stressed, or whatever.

I think that is rare. How often do two people find that both are "in the mood" at the same time? Or how often do two people respond to each other as if they are responding in sync? ... No awkward approaches and the other person turning away.

Also, I NEVER remembered a time when a loving glance or smile could be resisted by either one of us. I'm not talking about necessarily anything sexual. Just imagine a couple together and one is watching TV or distracted and the other one looks and tries to get their partner's attention, but they blow them off as if they've gotten too comfortable or some old resentment has been there. Yeah, that song by Carly Simon "Coming Around Again" has a line "I know nothing stays the same." 

No, that didn't happen to us ever. Things only grew in our love and desire for one another.

Returning to the matter of sexual intimacy... All of this is mysterious to me. But sensuality is a good and right thing. Our bodies are our gifts to one another.

And closeness wasn't always just about sex. Lynn would choose to sleep nude signaling her desire to be that close to me.

I was talking about serenity and passion. The former, serenity, implies peace and diminished arousal of emotions. Passion is the opposite. For a husband and wife, passion can imply sexual passion.

Yet, the most beautiful woman in the world, Lynn, could both arouse me with her body next to mine and bring me a serene sense of comfort as we fell asleep. My hands holding her bare breast.

It's important to realize that every person has different erogenous zones and responds to different forms of contact. For some females, the breasts around the nipples are not erogenous. It just doesn't create a response for them.

I had discovered that if I held her breasts and moved my hand ever so slightly, she would respond with arousal. So, if I started getting aroused, I might check to see if she was awake enough for sex. If not, or if she felt like sleeping, she would gently place her hand over mine and say "sweetie, I am sleepy."

She wasn't quiet either. During sex, I would ask at times "did I hurt you?"

She would answer as soon as she could, almost desperately, "don't stop."

If you are thinking that Lynn might have been fragile, that's not it. I just wanted to be sure that what I was doing felt good.

I want to share, in the next chapter, some information about a poetry magazine that Lynn and I created on the web in 1995. This will depict another shared interest that we had and something we did together.

Lynn's mother, Diane, was not burdened by the kind of religious dogma to which I was subjected. That was why she had no problem with buying a home, as an investment and renting the home to us. This was a decision she made after Lynn and I got engaged. This decision by Diane to buy a house coincided with her offer to allow us to rent the home. It was an investment for Diane because she only charged $200 for rent - $100 each from me and Lynn.

I should clarify that Diane clarified that she was doing this for us to live as husband and wife. Lynn was still working when this was done, and I was going to graduate school.

The discussion with Diane about the rent was more along the lines of what we both could afford as opposed to a conversation about two people having separate finances. Lynn and I had maintained our own bank accounts due to her need to qualify for her health care insurance. They look at resources in addition to income. That doesn't mean that either of us had kept anything a secret regarding our bank accounts and how much was in them. I always explained everything I spent with Lynn because she was very practical, and she expected me to do so.

Anyway, I knew that Diane wanted her daughter to enjoy all the benefits of marital life. That meant that she expected us to have a healthy sex life together when she bought a home for us where we could live as husband and wife.

Here is the thing about why I am breaking with tradition and discussing intimate things. It was an issue for me due to some religious brainwashing. Only on rare occasions, maybe 2 or 3 times during the entire many years that Lynn and I lived together did it occur but that was too much. I may have had some doubts about what we were doing intimately due to those "traditional" values. I mostly understood that there was nothing normal about our circumstances and that the moral ideas about not making love outside marriage could not apply in this situation.

That being said, on about 3 occasions I shamefully gave voice to a bizarre concern that we were acting immorally by not being married.

Anyway, it's not like Lynn's mother said something like, "I expect you to have a healthy sex life together." However, there were so many little ways that I knew this. I'll expand upon this below.

That was so refreshing for me. It honestly never occurred to me that any aspect of our life should be avoided when Diane was present. We picked out a bed together. Diane bought the bed for us. She bought a home with one bedroom.
 

That was so refreshing for me. It honestly never occurred to me that any aspect of our life should be avoided when Diane was present. We picked out a bed together. Diane bought the bed for us. She bought a home with one bedroom.

She was there to help us decorate the bedroom and the bath area – one bedroom. A bathroom right next to the bedroom and closed off from the rest of the house. One closet. Things would not have occurred the same way with my family and It's probably why in many families a mother or parents are not present when their son or daughter is furnishing or decorating their bedroom area.

I just knew that if Diane had heard about my religious brainwashing, she would have been mad. So, Lynn protected me in that regard on those very rare instances where I expressed some doubts about how we expressed our love for one another. 

Some of what we did together as we were furnishing and decorating the bedroom was interesting. I wanted to convey my love and desire for Lynn and for her mother to see this.

We shared a mischievous look, a brief kiss, as I gently pulled Lynn to me with her mother right nearby. As we looked at the shower area there was more of the same. I stopped to take in the sight of Lynn imagining seeing her naked body walking from the shower, obviously looking dreamy as Lynn was talking to her mother at this point.

I didn't have to tell Diane that "I am thinking about seeing your daughter naked." We didn't have to say "this is where we will have sex" as we looked at the bed together. To me, I was thinking that I was free to be comfortable about these matters even though Lynn's mother was right there with us and it seemed more important to demonstrate my intent to make Lynn feel good as we expressed our love for one another sexually.

This was happening at some point after we got engaged. Lynn and I had slept together, including at times when her mother had been visiting – Diane still lived out of state at this point and would come and stay in the home where Lynn lived on Wrightsville Beach. When I say we slept together before we moved in together, I don't mean we had sex and so I had not seen all of Lynn, yet. We had not yet had fully nude genital contact. The only erogenous zone I had seen was her breasts.

I had a sense that Diane had a knowledge that this would be how things would work out if Lynn had fallen in love – that if the state knew that she was married she would lose her insurance which was not an option.

I know that Lynn and her mother discussed everything. Yeah, the very specific topic of how Lynn was going to make sure she didn't get pregnant was an issue that I learned about later, but it did NOT take me by surprise.

I felt like I could have stated that Lynn would protect her health but that wouldn't make sense. Diane knew that Lynn was aware of her health concerns.

That conversation about how Lynn and I would make sure she didn't get pregnant did not occur when I was present, but I knew that she wanted Lynn to be happy. This taboo around sex was my brainwashing. I was more afraid of Diane finding out that I had these doubts about making love with Lynn.

I remember a conversation I had with Lynn sometime later. It was about a conversation she had with her mother.

Lynn's health was such that she could not support another life. She had problems with digestion. So, I just asked her, "when you and your mother talk about our sexual relations what do you say?"

Her answer was "she just wants to know that I am not going to get pregnant."

"Okay, so what did you say?" I asked.

"I just told her not to worry ... we are careful," she answered.

I thought "Okay, that makes sense." My response was, "okay," and then I smiled.

"What?" she asked.

"It's great that you can talk about this and that she wants you to be happy."

When Lynn and I had this conversation, we had been having sex for a while. It was beautiful to note that Lynn did not wait for me to initiate sex on these occasions. This reflects the fact that I wanted to know that Lynn loved and desired me.

You might recall that I had been uncertain earlier when we first started seeing each other, about whether Lynn was interested in me as much as I was interested in her. That is what I mean here but in a slightly different context.

Lynn also needed and hungered for closeness. It was an expression of our relationship which this book is about – relationships and connections.

That need for closeness was complicated by the need to make sure that she doesn't get pregnant. It might sound bizarre therefore when you hear her say "oh, sweetie, you are too close" in a voice full of the sexual passion of the moment. It just meant "I can't get pregnant."

I wondered "had Lynn kept the details about how we were making sure that she didn't get pregnant to herself and not shared them with her mother to protect her from thinking about some aspect of intimacy that had to be avoided by us?"

I kept the reality of just how serious her illness was out of my mind as much as possible.