It is time for me to change my ways a bit. A guy told me on Saturday he wanted to fuk my Stephanie.
I will tell you that man has been crying since my retribution took effect on Saturday.
Why anyone would talk like that is beyond me, but to me especially not cool.
I did receive mild satisfaction in making this grown man cry. He liked me, and because I wasn't an option he went for the biggest no-no in my world. Nobody will talk to me or Stephanie like that and on top of that if I heard a grown man talk to any girl like that he would still be crying. When I say crying I mean crying!
It came as such a shock to me, that this person I vaguely knew would speak such awful words to me or my fiancée.
I guess no more giving people the benefit of the doubt. It never turns out right in the end.
I am very old-fashioned and cussing is not my way of leaving an exclamation mark.
I believe that men and women should be treated with equal respect and that if it is given it shall be returned. I told this guy I despised him, which is as close to hate as I can get. I am not a hater nor will I ever be. Well that isn't true, mess with my Bella and Stephanie enough and hate probably factors in.
I wondered later what did I do or say that made him think he could use those words on me and my beloved? I couldn't come up with any and I think sometimes you just have to leave it at that.
I am not proud of what I did, but given the same circumstances I would do the same thing all over again.
Stephanie was not surprised as she thought the dude was purposefully pushing my buttons.
I am a very easy-going and laid back person, but step or spit on the people I love and I will go down fighting. Thankfully nobody has ever been silly or foolish enough to push my buttons that far, as when they start to freak my freaky they see where it is headed and it isn't going to be good.
I am not big in stature. I am 68 inches tall and right now 100 pounds wet. My normal weight is a very lean 130 and I am lanky. But I have not an ounce of fear, mixed with God given instincts to not get into it with someone foolishly. I would never physically harm a person as a first resort. It would be my last resort and oh it would be for something very bad.
I don't believe in carrying weapons, but I would be lying if I told you I didn't want one in the house. Even with the best security system you can't protect against a home invasion. I fear home invasions, because I don't work regular hours or keep a regular schedule. The best predictor of trouble is the pug, Julia Bleu. You can not train a dog to guard your family the way she does. She is up with every noise, but is stealth in her approach and always runs back to me if someone is at the door. She is very friendly just like her master, but she plays to win, and when it comes to other dogs she gets more alpha by the day.
Stephanie is most more laid back about things than I am, when it comes to strange people or unknown vehicles.
I am always aware of my surroundings, as I guess I take on the role of protector. Stephanie is taller and bigger than I am but out personalities are very compatible but very different.
She is so easy going, and doesn't care if someone cuts her off, where I am, "What the heck?" and probably flipping the bird.
I grew up with a very militant father who served in the Air Force so to say that I was raised under corporal order is putting it mildly. He was also a raging alcoholic and very abusive to my mom , sister but mainly me. I believe he took out his anger on me physically because I fought everyone's fight so my sister and mother were protected. I could have been just like my father. When you are raised in an abusive household you tend to carry on what has been done to you. I had to make a conscience decision NOT to be like my father. I saw him lose his family and everything that meant something to him, and I was very careful not to drink at all in high school. partied some in college, but always with this cloud of knowing my genetics were very close to his. I had what has been described to me as a tortious childhood. From what I remember, which is everything I ended up in the ER 7 times because of his abuse. The physical was the least of my worries, it was the constant verbal attacks daily that wore me down, and to this day, I won't argue with someone. If you need the last word fine by me.
I knew if I lived through that experience I had the rest of my life to live and do it Corey's way. I don't want to hear any no's or criticism, except if I love you, and I have basically asked for it. I lived under those circumstances from 7-12 years of age. I think it was truly divinely inspired that I knew if I got through it, I had the rest of my life. I was very spiritual as a kid, I went to church as often as I could, even in prep school and college. I prayed all the time, and I personally found solace and always have in God. To this day, I am a practicing Episcopalian who at 34 was confirmed in the church. I wear my chain, that so many people want, that has a great cross, and a medallion in very tiny letters in Latin with the Lord's prayer. I like the Latin because I studied it for six years. I wasn't raised Episcopal I was raised Catholic but when it came to eighth grade and confirmation, I took the vows so seriously, I didn't feel like I could make them at that age. However, until I found the Episcopal church I always attended Catholic services.
My ex wife and Stephanie are two people who truly know some of what I can dig deep and bring to the surface about my childhood, and everyone always says Corey there isn't a stronger willed and determined person in this world. I don't think it is true, but I think coming out with the scars and deep emotional wounds and the package that I carry, is better than being dead, which at times was very close.
My dad was abused as a kid, and one night after my parents were well divorced and he was on his third and final marriage, he went missing and the short of it he ended up in a thirty day rehab, and after he had to attend outpatient programs when he was off work. When he went missing, my mom called me as I was a student at Northeastern, and told me it looked like my dad had committed suicide. I hadn't spoken to him in at least 7 years, but I was devastated with the idea that a family member of mine could have such a bad life that death was a better choice. His car and keys were found at a cliff over the ocean, but there were no signs of him. He eventually was tracked through credit cards to an Indian Reservation with a casino where the authorities had no jurisdiction. I laughed then, as I thought no he is too gutless to actually kill himself. Somehow he wandered back to the area and the police took my dad once a decorated hero and jet fighter into custody out of his gourd. I don't know why, I guess it is just me, but within his first 24 hours at the treatment facility where his third family were done with him, I went to see him. It was a scene that makes me cry now. He had the DTs and he was so sad, and so broken, and as much as he was my enemy I didn't want that for him. I couldn't be close to him, and "sorry" the words I hoped to hear, I sadly would never in his life or mine hear.
So one night it is intensive therapy and it was family night, and everyone's family were coming weekly and he asked me if I would go. I went there wasn't an ounce of love in me for this monster but I went because I pitied him, and I was so thankful, that from his mistakes I would not make the same ones. We played a game. The leader went around the room and my father was right before me, and we were asked what was one of the things or recordings you heard as a child from your parents? When it got to be his turn he said, "I was told don't cry.' I laughed to myself because this was really easy, and I said, "I was told don't cry or I will give you something to cry about." You know for so many years I couldn't cry, even when I wanted to. It took meeting my first wife, and finally at last feeling safe and unconditionally loved, that one day, I started to cry and I wept from a place so deep and raw and beaten I couldn't stop. When people ask me well your ex wife is hard on you, she might be sometimes, but she gave me my first sense of safety and unconditional lover I never knew from either of my parents. I was a huge over achiever as I got into Phillips Exeter the number one prep school in the world and I was a crazy awesome basketball player, who went to a division one college and started freshman year as the only white no-booty player on the team. However it was never enough or there was praise to others to gloat by my parents, truth was I learned to survive my life through both academics and basketball. I knew I was good enough for a full scholarship with books, everything paid for. It was also my freedom from both of them, as I was very angry at my mother for being too weak to leave that SOB and save me.
So that is a bit about Corey. My dad died a tragic death, which I didn't want for him. Throughout my adult life I took care of his needs, but only from a distance. He didn't have a car so I bought him a truck, and in the early years of my marriage I made the mistake of taking care of him more, by giving one of my houses to him to live in.
We left the Cape when Bella was 11 months and I, for my wife's sake and my daughter's, walked away from my dream house I built prior to meeting my wife. She never could understand the emotions I had, I was numb, but I didn't want him to suffer and he once was a very proud man. I remember the day we were living the Cape, I had finally sold the house he lived in, and I was keeping the dream house for tax purposes. I drove by where he was living, and I said, "Bye Dad, I will call you in a couple of days." The phone never did ring in 6 years, as I knew as I said those words I was really saying good bye. In February of 2008 maybe when Bella was like 6 and had no recollection of him, the phone rang and it was my dad. He was flat, no emotion, and he told me he was in the hospital with metastatic lung cancer at a very young age. He was a life-time smoker. He called to say, "I have cancer and they are giving me radiation on my back right now because I have tumors the size of softballs." The cancer had already spread from his lungs to his spinal column and brain. I immediately asked as we were only a couple of hours apart, if I could be his health care proxy. He said, no he had this whore of a third cousin who thought my father had money and had searched him out and they lived together. He told me," Jeanie is in charge." I asked if I could come see him, and he said no not right now. I never thought he would die so fast, and after he called my sister and told her, he lasted a week, and when he died so did all the "sorrys" Corey needed to hear. I was down the next day as the eldest child and the person who would make sure he got a proper burial. My ex-wife never understood the complicated emotionless emotions I reserved for my father. He had been taken to the hospital due to crazy pain from the spine tumors, but he left out in plain view his military paperwork for a military funeral. My sister was in North Carolina with a husband going to Afghanistan and she wouldn't be there to say good bye to him, as she had to come up and bury our father. Oh yeah, because I was the fighter, my father openly favored my sister. Always.
Here I was, by myself, in a room full of caskets trying to pick one out for my dad. The military covered everything regarding the burial, ceremony, and tombstone. No one in the family wanted a viewing, but I needed to see him. I went to his apartment and got out his military blues with most of his decorations. I needed to talk to him.
A day before my sister and my ex wife arrive, I schedule a private viewing. I gave the clothes to the undertaker and said no need to embalm him. My sister and I agreed if he had any money we would split it 50-50, and if he didn't we would cover the cost of the funeral parlor including limos and a Hearst to the drive to the military base where he would be laid to rest.
I only remember parts of this which is strange because I remember everything. Oh as soon as I got into town, I kicked the whore out, and locked up the apartment from his greedy brothers. I was the only person who went into his place until my sister arrived. I spent hours looking at what was his life, and calling that lady a whore is very kind of me.
So the viewing. It was scheduled for 2 pm on a Thursday, and my sister didn't want to see him. The funeral parlor was very nice because they made him up and he didn't look that bad. I had written pages and pages of a letter to him, and I knelt at his casket, and for the first time ever I touched his chest without hate or disgust. I read the tome of a letter because I had so much to say, questions of why, and nope? I would never got the words to set me free: I am so sorry for what I did to you. So I did what I thought would be best for me. I told him I forgave him. For all the abusive behavior and the "God as my witness, only God knows how much I hate yous" I laid my hand gently on his chest and read the entire letter. I cried hard, I cried mad, and I cried sad. I never heard the words I needed to hear. About two hours later, I was done, and I folded up the letter and I stuck it under the pillow in his casket. I truly can not recall what I said.
I found proof of a life insurance policy, with my sister named as the sole beneficiary. I wasn't worried because we made a deal, until that she arrived and called on the policy. It was for a measly twenty thousand dollars, and we got into a fight when we had been the best of friends. She told me, she didn't think it was right to split the money because those weren't his last wishes, On the way to the funeral to go bury my father we fight a fight like we were back as teenagers. Her husband big military man is threatening me on the phone, as he is boarding for Afghanistan. I was like bring it on, and my sister who always had a flair for dramatics was trying to jump out of the moving car, on our way to meet everyone to go bury my father.
I didn't see what we looked like obviously, but a pall worse than his death was veiled over everyone who watched us storm out of the car. I had asked my sister who was never abused because I fought all the fights, did she think he was a good father to me? She said and I will never be at peace, "Yes I think he was a good father to you." I shout up.
No one knows what to expect at this military funeral. My sister and I rode alone in the first limo not saying a word for the over hour drive. What I didn't know is that the eldest child is honored at a military funeral. So I got the flag that was draped over the coffin, and ceremoniously folded and I got all the shells from the twenty one gun salute. I laughed as it was so funny that I would end up with all this stuff my sister wanted so badly. I gave all the pallbearers one each a shell from the salute so two of my sister's sons got that. I held on to everything else. The funeral is a blur but my ex wife said I sobbed and I sobbed and she didn't understand it. Part of it was simple: every kid wants to make their parents proud, and no matter what I did, it was never enough. My sister barely finished high school and got pregnant her senior year. My dad hated me, because I would not break, and today or any day only my Bella or any other children I might have, will ever have that emotional hold on me.
The service ends and we have to do the internment. Both my sister and I placed a rose on his casket. We quickly departed as we had two days to divide his stuff and empty out my dad's pathetic life. We just never talked about anything about the fight we had. She got the twenty thousand so she could pay for the entire funeral home and I kept the flag, that broke her heart.
My sister hadn't seen his place, and I wanted her to have the time although I spent days in his stuff. We agreed on everything, and Camie told me what she wanted. He collected foolish baseball and football cards that were in a ton of catalogues. He also had jewelry and watches and metals I didn't want to bury. His brothers wanted the jewelry and the cards. We went through and picked out a watch for my sister's husband and had her two sons picked out things and he scoured the cards, because his brother's wanted them most and my sister's husband was a huge Patriots fan and Red Sox fan which my dad and he were both fond of before they won a championship. After my sister and I took all his personal effects like keys, licenses and military Ids which I believe he had two of all of that so we each got the same. I took a metal box of his to hold the things I wanted and I remembered that box as a kid. After we took all we wanted on a Saturday, I told the brothers and the whore of which to spare my ex wife and my sister I took out a ton of awful sex toys. Yeah that was a good memory.
On Saturday we were cleaning out the place and the brothers flew into the house and dove for the jewelry and cards. Little did they know we had taken all the good stuff. My sister has this thing about collecting teaspoons where ever she travels in the United States or anywhere abroad. She literally steals them. She made me take one of my fathers teaspoons, and I got this 5 by 7 frame of senior picture, before he became a monster and its crazy how much I look exactly like him, down to those blue eyes that my Bella has too. My sister didn't get any pictures and I have a ton of them.
So predictably there wasn't much to throw out after everyone went through and cleaned up. My sister and I still had to decide what the tombstone would say. He was raised Catholic but when he was admitted to the hospital he put on no faith. We had Sunday left to clean the apartment and go see his grave. We came up with Fly Free and Fly High for the tombstone, because he once was a stellar jet fighter. The night before we all were leaving on Monday, my sister and I were fine. I never gave her a penny for the funeral home. Oh yeah, his father was still alive, but like the generations before my sister and I broke the Britton cycle of fucked up behavior, my grandfather did not go to his own son's funeral. My dad was the middle child and well he wasn't special. I never talked to my grandfather again. We finished up and my sister and I were saying good-bye because they had an early flight in the morning. she said I will call you once we land. Sound familiar? The phone didn't ring for five years. The kicker was my mother said if you two need me, I will come but I am all set. I asked her knowing all the torture and verbal abuse,if my sister was fair or right about him being a good father to me? She said, as always, "I am not getting involved or taking sides." She was never hurt either because when he did go to finally whack her I jumped in front of her and told him I would go get a rifle and shoot him and I took the ass beating with the steel-toed boots one last time. Nobody but me was ever harmed by him.
So I have this flag, and it means something, and I want to treat it with respect but I really don't want it. So for four years as my sister and I didn't speak her flag had its own place in my top of a closet.
Life is really funny. It wasn't too long that my ex wife asked for a divorce and I was made to set up my own place. In my closet in the inside of the door, where nobody but I could see, I hung his high school picture before he became a scathing fucking monster.
Fast forward to when I am getting divorced and my sister sort of reached out to me but nothing big. We texted every 6 months, and we both heard of each other's lives through my mother. Well I mentioned that my father predeceased my grandfather. I heard from an attorney, because no one in the family bothered to tell me, my grandfather died the last year. He left a will and it was supposed to be split three ways between his sons. Since my dad was dead, the law office contacted me and said by law you are the oldest and the state recognizes you as the sole heir. He had a tiny house, but it was the land the developers wanted. My uncles petitioned the court to have the will split just between them. I would need to sign a paper. I yelled I will bury the fucking money beside him it is the only thing my abusive grandfather did right by my dad. I told my sister and mother about this which was a mistake. My mom said the house was so tiny, but I knew it was the land. My ex wife scolded me why did you tell them? It should go to you.
So this past Thanksgiving I saw my sister and her family as both families finally went the same year for Thanksgiving on the island off of Florida. My mom asked me about the money so did my sister. I said, "Haven't heard anything." But I have always wanted to be a good person and do the right thing. Even though Camie is my ex wife she knows my fucked up and twisted feelings. So I brought the flag to Florida, didn't say a word to my sister or her husband, and my mom went out with my father Frank, I did get a real loving guy for a new father. They bought the display box and I surprised my sister and my brother-and-law with it.
There is just two more caveats. I am very numb to my mom although she loves me. She didn't take care of me when I needed her to and I have made it my goal to just accept the weaknesses I loathe and try to have some emotions to this doting woman who worries about me all the time. I want to cry at my mom's funeral and oh yeah she didn't cry at her mom's funeral! It is hard but that is life. She is so happy and been married for 27 years to Frank and they are my parents.
If you ever wonder why Bella brings me to tears and I never could spank her not even once, I will share. I caught her out of my ex wife's body. My hands were naked I didn't want latex to be the first thing she felt, and I held her and I told her I was her mommy and I cried the tears for my father as I held my baby daughter and couldn't fathom the abusive words, the abuse and militant torture. She is our baby and I am so privileged to be her mommy still, but I have made my mistakes in life, but with Bella I broke the Britton cycle and my daughter only knows unconditional love. We demanded it of my parents. She gave me a chance to be a kid and not feel bad or pain, She set me free and gave my life the Ultimate Purpose.
Corey
YOU PRAY FOR ME-I WILL PRAY FOR YOU-2017
