Bittersweet connections

Sometimes I think back on the friends I've made over the internet and I realize that, for the most part, they have been wonderful blessings in my life. Yeah, there have been a few that went wrong, one terribly wrong. But overall, I've been fortunate. I've met, and become friends with, a lot of people in the last 10 years. Many, many of them I've met in 3D.

My best friend, Marcy, I met nearly 10 years ago online. We had much in common, a bond of friendship was forged, and eventually we met in 3D with some other friends in a meetup in Albuquerque. I'm trying to remember, I think that was in 1997 or 1998. A few months later I came here, to Tulsa, to visit her. One very laughter filled five days later, I knew I wanted to live here. I remember so much laughter in those five days. Playing pool, sharing Cokes and realizing at some point that the damn 8-ball was missing and neither of us could remember sinking it. We still laugh about that now.

Kath and Jas I met when I lived in California. Yep, I met them online. Only to find that they lived "20 Andretti minutes" down the freeway from me. In case you didn't know, I tend to drive fast. Kath and Jas lived in San Jose, I lived in Fremont. Roughly about 25 miles away from each other. I made it home from their house one night in 20 minutes, stopping for a gallon of milk on the way. Ever since then my last name has been Andretti, according to them. I spent a lot of weekends at their place for a couple of years. They were my escape when I needed one badly. They shored me up when my ex-husband flipped out and was diagnosed bipolar. Solid friends that I know will always be a part of my life.

Angela is from Britain, and we've known one another about 8 years or so. She came to visit one summer, staying at Marcy's house because she knew her as well. What a complete pleasure to meet and get to know her all over again in person.

Then there's Maddy. I met Maddy also about 8 years ago initially. However, we grew much closer about 3 1/2 years ago. Her brother was dying of cancer. He was in his early 30s. Maddy...was so lost. She loved him so very much. She didn't know how to walk that road. She asked one day if anyone knew about losing a loved one to death, if anyone would be willing to talk to her about it.

It was the start of a friendship that deepened, grew more important to both of us. We talked about my Dad a lot, what it was like for me when he was diagnosed, when they told me he would only live another 6 months. He fooled them all. He lived 17 years. Never worked again, but he lived a long and happy life. Still, he was sick often, critically more than once. Each time it was like standing at the edge of an ever widening chasm of fear and grief. I knew what Maddy meant when she talked about how much she loved Matt.

We talked about loving and living, death and dying, sickness and letting go, letting someone die with dignity; subjects that were really hard to talk about with anyone. Eventually, she shared some of my emails with Matt. He asked her to ask me if he could write to me. I said of course he can. Matt and I corresponded for 18 days. 41 emails sent back and forth. No holds barred, no subject off limits. Matt was dying, and it was going to happen soon. He needed to talk to someone who would listen, someone who wasn't a loved one. He needed to talk about his fears, his worries for his wife and daughter, for his sisters.

I learned later that when Matt went into the hospital he took my emails with him. Tucked them into his shirt pocket, close to his heart. He told Maddy I'd helped him find peace within himself. I was humbled. What Matt didn't know was that I'd grown to love him deeply in that much too short a time. He was a good, gentle soul, a man I was honored to call my friend. When he died I grieved deeply. But I knew my grief was a mere pittance compared to that of Maddy and his family.

When Jess came to live with me, she knew about Maddy and Matt, their friends and family. For a time, after Matt died, I corresponded with his daughter, Julie. She told Maddy she wanted to talk to the lady who knew her Daddy's heart. Julie was 8 at the time. An amazing little girl. Truly amazing.

I remember getting an email from her one day. She said she'd had a dream that she wanted to tell me about, but she wasn't sure she should. I encouraged her to tell me. Like her Daddy, she needed to talk. The last email I sent to Matt, when I knew he was going into the hospital for the last time, I told him that when he got to where he was going, to look for a very tall guy with black hair and big, brown eyes. He'd be holding two cups of coffee, one for Matt and the other for himself. I told Matt that would be my Dad; that I'd told him to watch for Matt, help him to find his way. Matt never told anyone about that email. I know that for sure.

Weeks later, Julie wrote me of her dream. She said she'd dreamed of her Daddy, that she'd met him in the park where he used to take her to play. They spent time on the slide and the swings, and then they sat and talked a while. He gave her a hug, and one for each of his family members to pass on to them for him. Then he gave her one more and told her it was for Cate; that when she sent me his hug in email she should also give me a message from him. He said she should tell me my Dad makes good coffee. I cried. Big, huge, gulping sobs. But through those tears I was smiling from ear to ear.

I lost touch with Maddy; with Julie and her mom, with all of Matt's family and friends. I lost touch with them because of things that Jess did when she was here. One more way she fucked with my head. I lost touch with most of my friends after Jess moved in with me. She's very good at isolating people, before they can even realize what she's doing.

I met Marcy, Kath and Jas, Angela, Maddy, and many more of my friends at the same place online. It's a community for survivors of abuse, for those who dissociate, or who did as children. It is a community filled with women who are so incredibly strong, even in their frailty. And yes, there's a couple of guys who post there too. But the bulk of them are women who, like me, walked through a war zone of childhood. I lost nearly all of those friendships in the last two years because of Jess.

Two weeks ago I picked up the phone and called Kath. It was so very good to hear her voice. She understood. She knows Jess, has seen her in action, knows what she's capable of. She was glad to hear from me too.

A couple of days ago I posted in that forum for the first time in a very, very long time. Not many of the people I knew are there still. But those who are welcomed me with open arms and hearts. Maddy wrote. I answered. She found a way to leave an email address for me. I answered her. She told me some of the things Jess had written to her. I told her why I'd lost touch, the things I'd been told by Jess. It turns out it's one more instance of Jess lying left and right, trying to isolate me. It's one more time she's failed. It's one more piece of my life I've reclaimed.

I know that Jess reads there. I know it because back when I was still talking to her last year, she mentioned something that I'd only posted there. It's a password protected community, and she was banned from it a long time ago for actions that were intentionally harmful to others there. Still, you can be anyone on the internet. I know she reads there, I suspect she posts there too. They just can't prove it yet. When they can, they'll ban her again.

I'll be careful. I won't put an email address out there, or the link to this blog. I know she's still out there watching. That sounds so damned paranoid, but it is the truth. I know it. So does Marcy. So do Kath and Jas, Maddy, Angela, others.

It is an indescribable feeling to have these women a part of my life again. They have understood me over the years, in ways that no one else has ever been able to. They've walked the same roads I've walked in many, many ways; been shaped by the same type of childhood that shaped the woman I became.

I love them all; dearly, deeply, always.