Tom's Love Quest

These girls wooed me the most over all.  Not that they   all   produced the greatest sexual or romantic desire and gratification, though some of them did.  But at times while either pining for or dating each of these, I felt I could be with no one more suited to my tastes, morals, values, education level, religious beliefs, social status, and so on.   While grazing in these ladies’ pastures, the grass immediately surrounding me was always the greenest.  Indeed, there was no such thing as greener grass on the other side of the fence.  There may have been   equally   green grass; but none greener.  I sensed that I was dating among the best I could, and that there was none better.  Now I’ve dated many others besides these.  But only relationships forged with the ladies in this list appeared to be the best that a relationship could be; at least for a few months to a few years anyhow. 

And now, the list:

1. [First Love]   in 1972 through 1990.
2. [Molly]   in 1974.
3. [Ann]  in 1974, and briefly in 2004.
4. [Maniac]   in 1975.
5. [BT]   in 1976.
6. [Shaina]   in 1977.
7. [Dawn]   in 1979.
8. [Cher]   in 1981 through 1983.
9. [Andrea]    in 1982.
10. [Shelly]   in 1983.
11. [Shanee]   in 1983.
12. Paula Eide    in 1984.
13. [Fannie]   in 1984 through 1987.
14. [Kate]  in 1986 through 1987.
15. [Lenee]   in 1988.
16. [Elstan]  in 1988 through 2002.
17. [Cassee]  in 1989, 1994, and 2000.
18. [Renee]   in 1990 through 1991.
19. [Juanita]   in 1991, 1994, and 2001.
20. [Roberta]   in 1991.
21. [Chrissy]   in 1993.
22. [Emeebee]   in 1993-1998, 2000-2001.
23. [Carlene J]  in 1993 and then again in 2000.
24. [Melinda]  in 1995, and briefly in 2007.
25. [Alandra]   in 1996-1997.
26. [Judith]   in 1997-1998, 2010.
27. [Vee] in 1997 -2002, 2006.
28. [Kar]   in 1998-2002.
29. [J]   in 1999-2000.
30. [Lynn]  in 1999-2000.
31. [Beejay]   in 2000 through 2001.
32. [LizDee]   in 2002 and 2004, briefly.
33. [Emmy]   in 2003, and 2005.
34. [Kandi]  in 2003 through 2005.
35. [Ballerina]   in 2004.
36. [Linda]   in 2009.
37. [Miss Independent]  in 2009.
38. [Prism]   in 2009.
39. [Elsee]   in 2009.

Click on each name link to see the posts that pertain to that lady.

Take care.

Tom Hesley

Dear [BJ],

Would you mind forwarding this message to   [BT]?   I missed her at the last couple alumni events and was wondering how she’s doing. I’d enjoy corresponding with her, and if she’d like to do the same, she can reply back to me directly. My email address is:

pulse@prosaic-expressions.com

Thanks much, and take care.

Tom Hesley

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• Therapy Session: 2009-02-21

Dear   [BT],

I dreamt of you this morning; the first time in a while.  Yet over the years, you’ve appeared here and there in my slumber, and left me smiling upon waking every time; for days afterward sometimes.  It’s the same feeling I get when I see you for real, and it’s the same feeling I miss when you’re not where I’d hoped you’d be. 

I dreamt this morning of guiding you to a free seat in the   main dining room at WPSBC,   fetching food for you, and helping you find someone you were looking for after the meal was done.  Seeing you is one reason I so look forward to our alumni activities.  But I’ve missed seeing you at the last two events and was thus disappointed to learn that I would not be able to serve you at them.  I enjoy doing things for you; I always have.  The thrill when I make you laugh, seems almost boundless because when you smile, I melt.

Though I’m sure you know of my special feelings since we first met over thirty-five years ago, until now I never felt confident enough to directly mention, much less discuss them with you.  I never defined them to you, nor have I ever asked you for what I really want.  True, I’ve occasionally beat around the bush; once through an awkward letter, that I, not knowing how to write braille myself, got another person to braille, so you could read it; a letter which, as I recall, you didn’t like; a letter that compelled you to warn me never to use someone else’s hands to address you again; a letter that you said did not persuade you to go out with me.  You didn’t want to rock the cradle, you said.  I was fifteen then.  You were seventeen.  So your heart appeared, for the most part to be hardened toward me.  I, as a squeaky-voiced, obnoxious boy, was too immature for you, and it was perhaps that very immaturity, that kept me from seeing that. 

So, as your high school graduation approached, I kept after you; agitating you on your father’s bus each Friday; I’d tug your long, dark brown hair that was so soft and exquisite.  I’d offend you with corny jokes; jokes whose punchlines made them not worth the time required to listen to.  No wonder you didn’t like them.  I get it today.  I don’t like them either.  But back then, any attention from you, even negative attention, was positive, and I cherrished it.  So I kept the bad jokes coming until the end of my nineth grade year; the year you left the school for the last time as a student.  It may have seemed like I relished getting under your skin.  But not really.  I just wanted you to pay me some mind, and making you mad seemed easier to do than winning your love.  But the truth is,   [BT],   that   I teased you so because I loved you so.

I’d heard once that you went to your after-lunch classes a little early.  So I made it my business to know your schedule, so that I could be there to meet you.  Then we’d have ten minutes or so to talk before fifth period began.  We did talk too, at least twice each week on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  Remember?  You in twelfth grade, me three years behind.  You had a health class or some such on the first floor of the instruction building, and I so savored those conversations. Thanks for never shooing me away though on many occasions, your teachers had to ask me to leave.  Though perhaps you found me elementary, I found you utterly enthralling, and treasured all the minutes you spared for me, and I thank you for them.

Maybe my wishful, idealistic, teenage thinking colored my intuition.  But I thought you liked my crush at least a little, even though you permitted nothing more between us than frequent, yet painfully short conversations.  I say that because I asled you for your picture, a week or two before you graduated.  Your response confused me; especially after your comment about rocking the cradle.  For a moment, you appeared surprised, flattered, and humbled that I would want one.  You smiled a little, yet said nothing, turning away as though you’d not heard my request.  But then, a few days later when I saw you waiting for the bus home and came over to greet you, you took a black and white photo from your coat pocket, found my hand with your other hand, turned it palm up, and placed the wallet-sized senior picture you’d brought, over top of my eager fingers.  Again you said nothing before turning away, and it was clear that you wished not to discuss the picture, or anything else with me then.  I didn’t care, for I was overjoyed at your portrait gift.  In fact, I think I still have it in an album someplace.

That experience really jolted me, for in those couple seconds that your hand grasped mine, I felt a resonance, a connection, and a delicious albeit temporary convergence of yours and my destinies.  You seemed to be saying that though in the real world we’d never be together, that you might nonetheless consider a romance with me somewhere else; say, in an ideal world.  So I wonder to this day   [BT],  if underneath all those schoolgirl aspirations to meet a Prince Charming, if you, in some small way found me charming.  Or, did you find me undesirable and so, unworthy of your attention?  If you thought me a pain, were you just being polite during all those pre-class talks?  Or did you actually feel a nice connection too, but had to fight the feeling because I wasn’t the type of fellow that you’d normally date?  I heard you say that guys you’d date had to drive a car and make lots of money.  But these descriptions, neither back then nor today in fact, describe me accurately.  I’m still poor, and I still do not drive, although our three year age difference wouldn’t matter nearly as much today as it did in 1976. 

Yet there still was that private picture moment and a few others like it that made me wonder just what your true feelings were.  It seemed that publicly at least, you treated me no more kindly than any other guy in our school.  But when no one else was around, you said some (perhaps) innocent, yet emotionally provocative and kind things.  Once you commented that you liked how I answered extension 52 just outside your 2nd floor Spanish class in the instruction building.  You made my day with that quip, and you should know that I used to sneak out of my class in the weeks that followed, just to answer that phone, when I thought you’d be nearby to hear. 

Then, you’d get all giggly at my complimenting your dimples and cute pony tail as you served students supper in the   main dining room.  Once, when I teased you and then tried to run away, you got hold of me near the steam table and wrestled me to the floor.  Then you held me down while you laughed, for a longer-than-normal yet way too short a time.  Of course, I did not fight you, and I remember looking up into the floodlights as I lay there on my back with you to my right, both your hands pressing against my chest like you were giving me CPR.  Your straight long hair shown in the light, and it was long enough to reach down to my face and tickle my nose.  As it did, I smelled a delightful combination of your perfume and shampoo.  Your many bracelets jingled as you moved a hand from my chest to my shoulder as you released me.  We both got up then and ended the fun with a quick hug, and feeling you hug me back made my week.  But you know, I’d have layed there all day like that if you would have stayed there too.   

Now   [BT],  I’ve probably read too much into these memories.  But on the off-chance that I haven’t, let me say that you’ve always been a princess; in reality as well as in my dreams.  In fact, when last I saw you at the 2007 alumni social day, you were at 48, as captivating as you were at 17.  Your beauty it would seem then, is timeless, because you haven’t aged a bit in my aging eyes.  You’ve always been, and I suspect will always be, supremely gorgeous, no matter how the coming years ravage either of us. No matter how old we get, you’ll still look seventeen to me, and I’ve got thirty-five years of good feelings to prove it! 

This morning’s dream brought you, our memories, and my feelings front and foremost once more, as dreams like it have done several times since the seventies.  This time though, it inspired me to write.  Why?  I don’t know your current situation or even if you’re in a position to respond; perhaps by now, you’re married again or engaged or something.  So I hope not to intrude.  Indeed, if you’re in a happy relationship, then I so wish you well.  But I’m not getting any younger.  So I didn’t want to let any more time pass without coming clean with you, about the complete extent of my feelings.  Though we’ve only seen each other a handful of times since high school, I’d still love to spend some romantic hours with you, just as I fantasized back then. 

These dreams show that my feelings still run deep for you, and I want you to know that if ever you become available to explore them with me, then by all means tell me.  Then, I’ll make sure that I’m available too, and you and I will do the exploring together.  I don’t care if you get to be 60, 70, or 80 and beyond, because I’ll always be excited to hear from you; even when my own ears begin to fail.  If you reject me now, then at least I’ll have the peace of mind knowing that you did so based on complete information, and not just bits and pieces.  I have, for the first time since knowing you, said it all here, without shyness to muzzle me.  So, if you still say no, then there’s nothing more I can say to change your mind, and thus I’ll not try again.  But should you ever seriously consider coming to me, just keep in mind that as long as I’m single, I’ll always jump at the chance to know your loving side better.  Okay?

Take care, with love.

Tom Hesley

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• Dear Susan Jacks

Hi again [Mentat].

[Alandra] was a blind woman I met at camp in 1996 who may have even surpassed   [First Love]   in terms of desirability. Her parents migrated here from England. Thus, she had an air of European sophistication. Quite articulate and liberal, though being raised here in America herself, she had no accent. I fell in love with her immediately, and for a time, she said she felt the same toward me. We taped letters to each other for eight months, and in that time, I came to realize that she wasn’t ready to advance the relationship due to numerous factors. Well, the bottom line was that she had higher priorities than me, and seeing no way to counteract that state of affairs, I ended our association after the second time she cancelled arrangements we’d made to visit each other.

I mention her because I found her as pretty as the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. Yet she was totally blind. Once again, it appears that visual handicaps in and of themselves, do not bother me if other import factors of attraction are present. By the way, last I heard, [Alandra] is now married and living in North Carolina.

I agree with your ‘sampling problem’ comments. Often a visual impairment, particularly one present since birth, tends to leave the afflicted person socially retarded as well. [Janet]. [Olga]. Et al. This can manifest itself in so many ways that, at first glance, may not appear to be related to it. I’ve noticed that congenitally blind girls tend to cut their hair very short (even shorter than most males wear theirs), because they have no concept of how this can detract from their feminine appearance. Further, they might poke their eyes or fail to make eye contact with someone speaking to them. On the other hand, girls like [First Love],   [Alandra], and   [BT]   appear well-adjusted because they know and utilize the body language of sighted women, though admittedly, we might not agree with their moral codes. They’re blind but they look and act sighted. The point is that it’s extremely difficult to find a vision-impaired lady who is otherwise normal. If I could, … if you could, ….. we’d both be very happy men. This might even be better than dating a fully sighted woman, because we’d be able to better share issues relating to our handicaps, and get greater understanding and acceptance in return (usually). But since there are only sighted women within my reach right now, I suppose I’ll keep trying for them.

Now on to your comments about low self-esteem and [your sweetheart from the late 70s]. Well, that’s strange. Though you say you were clinically depressed back then, I don’t remember you seeming very “down.” I guess you just hid it very well. Then again, I probably wasn’t very good at “reading” people back then given how young I was. At any rate, yes, it was good that you made your own choices where [that sweetheart] was concerned, and didn’t allow the likes of Parker to keep you from taking the relationship as far as you wanted it to go. On the other hand, it’s probably good that I DID allow my parents to influence me about [Lenee]. You’re right though. I’d have left her sooner or later no matter what. My Dad’s comments just helped make it sooner, rather than later.

Now, to the irony of blamelessly leaving ladies more impaired than ourselves, while we ourselves seek less impaired but accepting women. Well, good food for thought here. If we solve this one, we might have a million-selling book on our hands. But to the problem: Brute force contradiction might suffice. Yes. Studies support the claims of evolutionary psychologists that the more profound the handicap, the less desirable the afflicted appear to be for mating. But even if that’s true, it does not mean that the handicapped “cannot” be loved by desirable people. Case in point: Do you remember [Cara]? She lived next door to me [...] in the mid eighties. Confined to a wheelchair, she used to party with [some of our friends], and tended to be noisy and boisterous.

Well, it turns out that she’s married to an able-bodied fellow working in the healthcare industry (according to [Z]). Now I personally found no redeeming qualities in her, and to me, she was about as sexually alluring as Big Ed up at the school. I never liked her attitude either, and she was so grossly overweight that I swear that if she would have lost a hundred pounds, that she could have walked again without aid. Of course, I know her paralysis could not be cured by weight loss alone. But I’m just saying that to illustrate just how obese she was – too heavy to even walk. However, [Z] says that she bore a child to this man several years ago, and the three of them seem quite happy. Go figure. Who would ever want to marry someone like [Cara]? Yet, a man of high social standing did. So if a person like [her] could find lasting love, then good buddy, there’s certainly hope for you and me.

Thank goodness for the bell curve, which illustrates the sheer diversity in our culture, and suggests that no two people desire exactly the same qualities in mates, and that their preferences span the entire gambit and proportions of human qualities. Some like ‘em fat, some like ‘em thin, some like ‘em tall, some like ‘em short, … you get the idea. While it’s true that the curves suggest that most ladies like a man of clearly definable traits (the tall, dark, strong, handsome type), we need to look behind the numbers here. So often women say they prefer a certain type of man, then become disillusioned after marrying him. They want this type of guy. Yes. But when it comes right down to it, they aren’t usually happy with him. Again, as I pointed out in previous letters, we may find that if we bide our time, women will shed their delusions and come to see us as attractive. We just must be patient, something I’ve never been good at.

Now to your comment about “gray twilight where there is neither victory nor defeat”: Well, yes, victories must be meaningful victories to count for something. I could easily have been married four or five times by now. In fact, if I had played my cards right, I might have even been able to marry   [First Love].  We talked about it you know. In fact, she was the first to mention it. But as much as I loved her, I could never have married her, for she was unclean in the biblical sense (More on that another time).

Likewise, I could have married [Fannie], [Lenee], [Hane] from Ohio, and others. But those “victories” would not have been meaningful and would not have turned the gray twilight into a beautiful pink, yellow, and blue sunset. It’s easy to get married if that’s all one really wants to do. But I wish not to marry just for the sake of marrying. In fact, what I want requires no marriage at all.

Marrying the right someone (a lady who will fill the rest of your days with joy, as Linda Eastman did for Paul McCartney), now that’s a lot harder to pull off. We both know what it feels like to settle, and that the more you compromise, the less happy you’ll be. Compromise curses fulfillment. This gray twilight to which you refer, would not be made more colorful and bright by marrying a mere better-than-nothing. No. The only way it can work well is to marry the best. Not just the best we can find. But  the best. Period. When it comes to relationships, a perfectionist attitude is healthy, and necessary.

Later,
Tom Hesley