‘James Anonymous’: The Conclusion of the ‘Flooded Basement’ thread

The conclusion of the “Flooded Basement” thread is found at the end of this post.

Perhaps it’s wrong to call it the conclusion…because, of course, our lives go on. But any additional postings wouldn’t be referencing a “Flooded Basement,” because that part of the story has now ended.

Much of this story is deliberately shrouded in secrecy. This is mostly for legal reasons, which I will explain in a bit.

Oh, and one more thing: all parts of this entire story are completely true. This all really happened.

Here are some necessary details to complete the story:

  • Early in 2008 I received an email from the father of the woman described in the Flooded Basement postings. Let’s call her CS, mostly because those are her initials. Some backstory: her father and I became great friends while her and I were together, and we maintained and continued that friendship up until and including the present day. So, when he sent me an email then asking if it was okay for her to get in touch with me, I was intrigued. I knew she had gotten married shortly after I had left (Me, in 1988: “I hear CS is getting married. Is that true?” Him: “Yes it is, and I wish it was you”), and was curious how she was doing. (Most of this is covered in the Flooded Basement thread.) I’ve rarely remained friends with anyone I’ve dated, believing that whatever ended our relationship was probably ugly, unless one of us relocated or she went to prison. (Ah, that’s another sad tale.) If this person a) stole from you; b) habitually lied to you; c) was unfaithful to you, then why would you want that person as your friend?
  • There was a time when I believed that, if CS and I ever did encounter each other again, the first part of the visit would involve both of us in a locked room, and lots of shouting. We had many unresolved issues, as to why I left (it was her insistence), how she could have married someone so obviously wrong for her (not just my opinion), and so on. As the JA entry describes, it was the gradual acceptance of the end of another relationship that allowed me to face the resolution of this one.
  • In mid-November 2008 the email came. This soon led to an email dialogue, that soon became an instant message dialogue, which in turn soon became a series of long distance cellphone calls dialogue.
  • As it happened, by her reckoning, her marriage ceased to be functional around 1990, and from then on there were separate bedrooms, lives lived together but as separate as two people otherwise can be. As both of us were lonely It did not take long for mutual emotions that were long dormant to stir again, and we both contemplated a reconnection of sorts.
  • In April 2009 she arrived for a two-week visit. It had become clear over the course of the cross-country communications that both of us had spent significant time thinking about the other while we had been apart, and the possibility of picking up close to where we had left off in 1987 was something we both wanted to explore.
  • After another shorter visit in July we knew this is what we both wanted. So, in August I returned to where we were born and raised, and together we drove to our new home, here in the American Southwest.
  • In December 2011, after a long and drawn-out process, her divorce was finalized. The state of Pennsylvania doesn’t allow legal separation, so there were considerable legal issues involved with division of property and so on. For legal reasons, even though this was likely the most important event of my lifetime, I had to remain silent–or at best, for years, be very secretive about it.

She was, has been and remains the best person I have ever known. What I believe has always made our relationship so special is the great love and mutual admiration we have for each other.

So the final entry of the Flooded Basement is just that. The story is complete, and a new one is underway.

There was meaning after all to the young couple that I saw on the beach 25 years ago, who had just gotten engaged “just now!”–a message of hope, that love can continue on. And even though I am one who really wants to know the how and the why of things, I have steadfastly refused to apply any analytical process to all that has occurred.

It has just happened. That’s enough for me.

Sunday, May 31, 2009

Entry 3625: Reflections On Twenty-Plus Years Ago, and a ‘Flooded Basement’

I often ponder, and look back in retrospect–while I am in that shadowy, blurry place that exists just before we sleep, or at the moment when we are drifting off in midday–I often recall the times in my life that are most significant. There were times when certainly there were periods of turbulence…both pleasant and not.

The year 1987 was one such time…as was once best described, the best and worst of times. It’s been spelled out on here some time ago just how ugly the first part of 1987 was…one of the saddest and lowest parts of my life.

And if that was the worst, then the second half had to be one of the best…a new city! A new life! Every day shining with the brightness of a new penny…each day clear and crisp and full of promise! Truly, a chance to start fresh.

See, I left Great Sadness behind…my life that could have been–and wasn’t. My life…now. Or, more precisely…then.

But in my new city I was beaten down, emotionally, over and over…perhaps made to pay for what I had left behind. I sought out Love…and when it seemed I had found what I thought could’ve been the start of it, I was embarrassed that I could be so completely wrong.

It’s been said that one of the marks of a good life is the ability to look back with little or no regrets. You make the best decision you can at the time…and go on from there. I know much more about the future now…as I have grown into it, gone from the past through the present and into it.

There is one thing that I wish I would have known…that my continuous search for Love would go on for many years…and when at last it ended (because I had all but given up), that which I was looking for so fervently would come from a most unlikely source.

And I think of my search…constant, driven, perpetual. But, ultimately, no new doors were opened, no new love appeared, no rest came to me. I had resigned myself that it was not for me…that I–who wanted a family more than most could imagine–would be alone the rest of my life.

How strange it is that when we have given up…the path to Love is clear. It is lit with the light of a thousand stars.

And so it was…with me.

Thanks to you.

But…we have always been together. Until our Rediscovery–we were only unaware.

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