All right. Let's get one thing straight
I should not have to say this. The diseased imaginations of a couple of people, one of whom has chosen the name of a villain for her alias, have made charges against me that no sane person would imagine, but that, having once been made, I cannot ignore. As I know that the filth concerned read this LJ, I am writing this here; with the proviso that I will repeat it in any forum they care to mention.
I last saw Debbie Wallace six years ago. I have never made any effort to meet her again, and in fact avoid the quarter of London where I last knew she lived. I love her still, and I will love her till I die. She never was "my girlfriend", but she was a loyal and true friend. She always knew that I love her, and eventually we found ourselves forced to part because it was impossible to live with the fact that one person loved and the other was a friend.
But the friendship of Debbie Wallace is something stronger and nobler than many people will ever experience even in their love. I have seen her in action, and I tell you that I believe in heroes because of her. Wherever she is now, I want nothing more in this world than for her to be happy; if she is, I am too.
And if I mentioned her in a story and in poetry, it is because she deserves it. She is the finest person I ever met; meeting her was the greatest experience of my life: and I could no more be silent about her than St.Paul could be silent about the Lord. She deserves nothing less than glory, as I said in my sonnet that ends: "And you are known, upright before your Lord/ As you're in truth, a fair and naked sword".
This is what I feel for Debbie Wallace. And the people who call this creepy probably fear the realization, creeping upon them, that they could never in their whole life hope to inspire a love like that.
I last saw Debbie Wallace six years ago. I have never made any effort to meet her again, and in fact avoid the quarter of London where I last knew she lived. I love her still, and I will love her till I die. She never was "my girlfriend", but she was a loyal and true friend. She always knew that I love her, and eventually we found ourselves forced to part because it was impossible to live with the fact that one person loved and the other was a friend.
But the friendship of Debbie Wallace is something stronger and nobler than many people will ever experience even in their love. I have seen her in action, and I tell you that I believe in heroes because of her. Wherever she is now, I want nothing more in this world than for her to be happy; if she is, I am too.
And if I mentioned her in a story and in poetry, it is because she deserves it. She is the finest person I ever met; meeting her was the greatest experience of my life: and I could no more be silent about her than St.Paul could be silent about the Lord. She deserves nothing less than glory, as I said in my sonnet that ends: "And you are known, upright before your Lord/ As you're in truth, a fair and naked sword".
This is what I feel for Debbie Wallace. And the people who call this creepy probably fear the realization, creeping upon them, that they could never in their whole life hope to inspire a love like that.