Tammys Post
Her story, the (very) short version.
Her childhood was full of unpleasantness in a family heavily into the manufacturing and distributing of drugs. Her childhood ended when she was a mere 11 when her mother's candle was snuffed out in a flash of violence. She than moved to Florida and effectively raised her younger brother (with who's father they now lived) Later in life she would run with a carnival, go to school for philosophy in natural health, become a tattoo artist in new york, and turn out to be this well rounded wonderful, exciting vibrant amazing person. She has a son (Andrew) who sounds like a 7yo wonder. An artist with a real gift for empathy.
Unfortunately her son also has a father. A pill-popping rageaholic drunk who's name shan't sully Tam's post. She had moved away from him years ago, but some legal difficulties landed her back at his house and hating it. (He's always trying to get custody of Andrew, some accusations of heavy drug abuse were thrown Tam's way and she lost her son for a time. She moved in with the drunk to halt the legal issues while she regrouped)
She was coming to WV in February after her tax return came in to get away from him and with me. This absolutely unbelievably amazing person was really into me. She said she felt a connection. Why the past tense? Our most recent flurry of texts:
Friday night Her: Sorry I didn't answer your text earlier, I've been in a nasty fight with [pill-popping drunk] for hours...he pushed me, I cut him.
Me: Are you okay? How bad did you cut him? Are we talking ER and maybe jail?
Her: I'm okay and he is too. He could use a few stitches in his hand and I have a few bruised ribs. We never call the cops and I'm his personal doctor.
Me: He hurt you!? What happened?
Her: He came in the house after fighting with his new ex boss. He was yelling than pushed and stepped on Andrew and it was on.
Me: I'm furious but trust you to take care of yourself. Is Andrew okay?
Her: Andrew's fine, I've been calming him ever since. Don't worry abut me, I've got this.
Her: I'll get back to you in a bit, love.
Saturday morning Me: Poke?
Some time later...
Her: Hey Sweetness, sorry I didn't get back to you last night. We're still at war.
Me: I figured, how are you and Andrew holding up?
Her: We're okay. [pill-popping drunk] just went out with his cousin to get more pills and beer. I might come up early and get a cheep room until next year, he's out of control.
Me: I agree, not just because I'm eager to see you. He's dangerous.
Her: Yea, this will end in death if I don't get out soon.
Me: What can I do to help?
Her: Get some info on efficiency apartments in the area and e-mail me with the results.
(which I did. Her computer is down, thus web searches are a bit of a challenge for her)
Me: Rent range?
Her: 300-500
Her: He's back, I'll be on tonight.
Wednesday. (today) I haven't heard from her since.
I don't know what I can do, I have to assume the worst. I don't have her street address and I'm assuming her cell phone area code reflects her town. She was a few states away, and now she's...gone...
Tammy
12/31/80 - 8/28/10?
I sent her this e-mail just before posting this. I really hope I'm horribly wrong and we laugh about this one day.
Dear Tam,
The last I heard he was “out of control” and you were concerned for somebody's life, possibly your own. Than you disappeared. I tried calling all the hospitals in your area code, but they were full of voices saying they never heard of you. So here I sit not knowing if you're dead or alive. I'd like to think that if it was as simple as him stealing your phone you would have found a way to reach me by now. Possibilities? No good ones come to mind.
1.) He went after Andrew and you had to gut him like the pig he is. You're in jail, and I don't know if you'll ever see this. It's almost ironic for the system to hold you ,a revolutionary, for doing the right thing.
2.) He roughed you up and you are in some hospital bed right now recovering. I miss you and care deeply for you. I know you won't see this until after the fact, if ever. If you can pull energy off of me to heal you, do it. I'll give you whatever I have. if we're really soulmates as we speculated, you know this. I'd send you good vibes, but in my heart of hearts I suspect it's the final possibility.
3.) That useless trash heap killed you. Unless you reach me somehow some way telling me otherwise, I have no recourse but to assume this. Life is a cruel joke and yours was all to short. I hope Andrew pulls thru as okay as one can in his situation and ends up in a good home. I'd offer to look after him, but I am in no position to do so. It's fascinating mourning you. I mourn all that we never got to do. I mourn our future together. I'm thankful for what we had, and the idea that “tomorrow” might exist after all, brief as all that was.
I suspect I'll always miss you, sweetness.
All my Love, Nathan.
Her childhood was full of unpleasantness in a family heavily into the manufacturing and distributing of drugs. Her childhood ended when she was a mere 11 when her mother's candle was snuffed out in a flash of violence. She than moved to Florida and effectively raised her younger brother (with who's father they now lived) Later in life she would run with a carnival, go to school for philosophy in natural health, become a tattoo artist in new york, and turn out to be this well rounded wonderful, exciting vibrant amazing person. She has a son (Andrew) who sounds like a 7yo wonder. An artist with a real gift for empathy.
Unfortunately her son also has a father. A pill-popping rageaholic drunk who's name shan't sully Tam's post. She had moved away from him years ago, but some legal difficulties landed her back at his house and hating it. (He's always trying to get custody of Andrew, some accusations of heavy drug abuse were thrown Tam's way and she lost her son for a time. She moved in with the drunk to halt the legal issues while she regrouped)
She was coming to WV in February after her tax return came in to get away from him and with me. This absolutely unbelievably amazing person was really into me. She said she felt a connection. Why the past tense? Our most recent flurry of texts:
Friday night Her: Sorry I didn't answer your text earlier, I've been in a nasty fight with [pill-popping drunk] for hours...he pushed me, I cut him.
Me: Are you okay? How bad did you cut him? Are we talking ER and maybe jail?
Her: I'm okay and he is too. He could use a few stitches in his hand and I have a few bruised ribs. We never call the cops and I'm his personal doctor.
Me: He hurt you!? What happened?
Her: He came in the house after fighting with his new ex boss. He was yelling than pushed and stepped on Andrew and it was on.
Me: I'm furious but trust you to take care of yourself. Is Andrew okay?
Her: Andrew's fine, I've been calming him ever since. Don't worry abut me, I've got this.
Her: I'll get back to you in a bit, love.
Saturday morning Me: Poke?
Some time later...
Her: Hey Sweetness, sorry I didn't get back to you last night. We're still at war.
Me: I figured, how are you and Andrew holding up?
Her: We're okay. [pill-popping drunk] just went out with his cousin to get more pills and beer. I might come up early and get a cheep room until next year, he's out of control.
Me: I agree, not just because I'm eager to see you. He's dangerous.
Her: Yea, this will end in death if I don't get out soon.
Me: What can I do to help?
Her: Get some info on efficiency apartments in the area and e-mail me with the results.
(which I did. Her computer is down, thus web searches are a bit of a challenge for her)
Me: Rent range?
Her: 300-500
Her: He's back, I'll be on tonight.
Wednesday. (today) I haven't heard from her since.
I don't know what I can do, I have to assume the worst. I don't have her street address and I'm assuming her cell phone area code reflects her town. She was a few states away, and now she's...gone...
Tammy
12/31/80 - 8/28/10?
I sent her this e-mail just before posting this. I really hope I'm horribly wrong and we laugh about this one day.
Dear Tam,
The last I heard he was “out of control” and you were concerned for somebody's life, possibly your own. Than you disappeared. I tried calling all the hospitals in your area code, but they were full of voices saying they never heard of you. So here I sit not knowing if you're dead or alive. I'd like to think that if it was as simple as him stealing your phone you would have found a way to reach me by now. Possibilities? No good ones come to mind.
1.) He went after Andrew and you had to gut him like the pig he is. You're in jail, and I don't know if you'll ever see this. It's almost ironic for the system to hold you ,a revolutionary, for doing the right thing.
2.) He roughed you up and you are in some hospital bed right now recovering. I miss you and care deeply for you. I know you won't see this until after the fact, if ever. If you can pull energy off of me to heal you, do it. I'll give you whatever I have. if we're really soulmates as we speculated, you know this. I'd send you good vibes, but in my heart of hearts I suspect it's the final possibility.
3.) That useless trash heap killed you. Unless you reach me somehow some way telling me otherwise, I have no recourse but to assume this. Life is a cruel joke and yours was all to short. I hope Andrew pulls thru as okay as one can in his situation and ends up in a good home. I'd offer to look after him, but I am in no position to do so. It's fascinating mourning you. I mourn all that we never got to do. I mourn our future together. I'm thankful for what we had, and the idea that “tomorrow” might exist after all, brief as all that was.
I suspect I'll always miss you, sweetness.
All my Love, Nathan.