The Calendar Blog

October 4, 2007: The best night of my life. I met Justin in the Connexion chat room while I was house-sitting for my friend. We hit it off pretty well. Let's look back on part of the conversation that night:
Me: if you ever want a babysitter while you're
out on hot dates, i'l volunteer!
Justin: lol thanks
Justin: you arnt gunna be my hot date?
Me: are you asking me out?
Justin: lol maybe when I get there
At that time, I really didn't think anything of it. Yeah, it made me melt like ice cream on a hot July afternoon. But I tried not to get my hopes up. I knew what could happen if I did. I didn't want to get hurt. I didn't want to get let down. I didn't want another disappointment. So, over the next couple weeks, I just played it cool and went with the flow. Something I've never done before, it took so much effort to NOT fall for him as quickly as I did with other guys. I held myself up. I didn't make a big fuss about it. The biggest part: I didn't go and tell everybody I know every thing that happened between him and I; I just kept him my little secret while I waited to see where fate would take us.

Looking at the next week or so, I realize how much I began to fall. I've learned so much about him. He began a blog on this very site not long after I met him. I remember him telling me and sending me the link. I remember reading it for the first time. "A look at life through my eyes. A single father, a cancer survivor, a cancer patient, an HIV sufferer, an animal lover...but most of all....just me. This is a look at who I am..outside of my kids dad, and my doctors patient."
And I read it again. "A look at life through my eyes. A single father, a cancer survivor, a cancer patient, an HIV sufferer, an animal lover...but most of all....just me. This is a look at who I am..outside of my kids dad, and my doctors patient."
And again.

And then I told him something I was so afraid to tell him: I care about you so much that I will stand by your side through everything that comes your, our, way.

The previous couple weeks were so beautiful as we laughed together over the phone, as I sang him to sleep because he was crying and not having good nights, and as we made plans of what we would do together, and with the kids, once they got here. He let me into his life, and told me things about him and his kids that just made me feel special knowing them. Garrit is deaf. (Good thing I took some sign language classes in college, right?) They love teddy bears. They will love crawling all over me and using me as a jungle-gym and just playing with me. They love chocolate. And Ms. Elsie! He posted a blog about her, just pictures of her tiny fingers, her beautiful, innocent eyes and nose. The though of just being able to hold her made me feel so happy, so much more responsible than I've probably felt holding my own niece and nephew. Maybe it's because I'd hoped to be something of a father for her some day. I really, really hoped. I went bought some teddy bears from Build-A-Bear for him and the kids. A pink and a blue matching teddies for the twins, a nice soft teddy for Ms. Elsie, and a little puppy dog that barks and wags its tail when you pat its head for Justin. They all need a "Welcome to Colorado" gift for when they get here.

October 29, 2007: His phone was out of minutes. No money left on the phone, and, according to him, his wallet was stolen that day, too, and since his credit cards were thus frozen, they couldn't deduct the automatic payment. Because I love him, what do I do? I call his cell phone company and put $25 onto his phone. Just before I called them, however, I texted him (he's got unlimited texts) and said that him asking me to put money onto his phone kind of made me feel like we were married. He wrote back and said he was going to talk to me about being exclusive. After a moment of hesitation, asking, "I thought you wanted to wait till you got here and see where things go, first," he insisted on asking me to be his boyfriend. Of course, I accepted this invitation, knowing that I love him so much already. So I called his phone company and added $25 to his account. He'd only asked me to put $15 on, but I figured, since we talk so much, he might as well have a bit more on there. What does he text me back? "Baby! You didn't have to put that much on!" I explain that I know how he likes to go over and that I gotta keep him covered, and that he just owes me a really nice dinner. He said he'd already had plans, along the lines of, "We are first going for an early romantic dinner at Fresco [Pesce Fresco?], then spending the night at the Brown Palace Hotel and spa for facials and relaxing massages and then a night of cuddling, wine, and love." And that's only the half of it, he says. What I did to deserve someone as good as him, I will never know.

After that conversation, I felt like I owned the moon and the stars in the sky that night. My dream of happiness, of love, of having a family, was starting to come true. It was like all the shit I had trekked through, every terrible "love" experience I'd endured had finally paid off and Karma was starting to work out for me. I knew, deep in my heart, that I'd never had anyone in my life as sweet as Justin, and I never wanted anybody else again. Love was finally coming my way.

Sunday, November 4, 2007: Justin was supposed to move to Denver today. I was supposed to pick him and the kids up from the airport around 10:30 PM. But, I got a phone call around 3 PM saying that they were in the hospital because Isabelle had an allergic reaction to peanuts on the plane. At 3 PM? Why were they on the plane so early? Was there something he's not telling me? Why would they be on the plane so early? It didn't make sense. The next few days were insane. He told me they were going to be flying out on Monday, then, instead. So I spend the whole day freaking out because, as far as I know, I'm supposed to pick him up at the airport, but I have absolutely no details about what's going on. After work that day, I came home and e-mailed a couple of his friends online, and attempted to call his sister (from a number he'd called me from before). While he didn't like that at all, my intentions were good: I was only trying to find out what was going on. The following three days were torture. I hadn't heard from him at all, until Wednesday night. I finally got the call: Isabelle's out of the hospital and we're flying out tomorrow.

Thursday, November 8, 2007: Again, I spend the whole day in anticipation. Trying to track which flight he's on online, I anxiously wait for him to call me and tell me he's in town. I call, and call, and call, only to get sent to voicemail over and over. When I finally get through to him around maybe 3 PM that afternoon, he says he's on a layover in Dallas. He'll be here around 7. Okay. No biggie. So I went to my friend's pool league that night, so that I'd be closer to Denver when he got in. And did he call? Yeah, not so much. 7:30 PM, still not ansering his phone. When I called him around 8 PM, he said he's in town and that he's in bed because he didn't feel too good, said he'd call me in the morning. Did I get that call? No. All day Friday, no calls, nor were mine answered. Only come to find out he's in the hospital. Okay, great. Now what am I to do? The man I love is in the hospital, and he won't let me come and see him. He says visitors make him depressed.

The next weeks turn into nightmares. My phone calls are hardly ever answered or returned, and I rarely get a call from him. And if I do get a call, it lasts only a minute or so before he has to go because he's going to be sick again. I get calls or texts saying, "I'm getting out of the hospital tomorrow," but then when I try to call him, he'll still be in. This goes on, hell, still is going on, and I only get more frustrated as the days continue. I get more lonely, more depressed, more upset and hurt and let down with every passing day.

November 12, 2007: So, I messed up again. I IM'd a friend of his online that afternoon, trying to figure out where he was, what was going on. And while the conversation was wholly friendly, I was just trying to find out if he was okay. I hadn't heard from him in so long, I was worried and hoped that he was okay. When he found out, he got angry. He kept texting me, very upset, because I'd only done it a week ago, and that hurt him. I tried offering to put money on his phone so that we could actually talk it through, and kept saying no. I left pool early that night, didn't play at all, and got online. His best friend, Braiden, IM'd me. After a long conversation about how much the events of the evening hurt me, Braiden started to shed some light on what was going on. He told me why he doesn't like visitors in the hospital. He told me why Justin was upset (as if I didn't know before). And he told me that Justin is a very private person and probably didn't want his friends to know he was in the hospital. And after thorough explanation, Braiden started to understand where I was coming from, too. In the conversation, Braiden gave me the link to Justin's phone company online so that I could try to put money on his phone so we could talk it through. I can't figure out how to put just the $25 on, so I end up paying the whole bill: a total of close to $100. I finally get through to him and I explain to him what I was thinking. Trying to rationalize with him was difficult, but we finally both understood where the other was coming from. It was a hard night, but that's what it took to get us over the hump.

Monday, November 19, 2007: Braiden called me tonight. He said Justin got in a bad car accident Saturday night before; finally got out of the hospital and had a siezure. Back in the hospital. But why didn't he call me to say he got out? I guess I'll just have to sit tight.

Thursday, November 22, 2007, Thanksgiving: I tried to call him. I tried to wish him a happy thanksgiving. I tried to tell him I love him. Calls weren't answered. Nor returned. Again.

Sunday, November 25, 2007: When I talked to him last, maybe the Tuesday prior to this, he said that if he wasn't out of the hospital by his birthday he'd let me come see him. So what do I do first thing when I wake up? I called him to wish him a very happy birthday. But did he answer? Nope. Did he return my voicemail? Again, no. I called, and called, and called, and eventually his phone was turned off. What a day. The one man I truly love more than anything ignores my calls all day, on his birthday, and won't even let me give him my birthday wishes. Of course.

Monday, December 10, 2007: I get a text around 7:30 AM saying that he needs money put onto his phone so he can call his doctor because he's getting out of the hospital and needs his doctor to sign the papers. So I get online and put $25 onto his phone. He calls me back a bit later; "Are you excited to finally get to see me." The thought running through my mind: Well maybe I'll believe it when I actually see it; you've been making promises, promises and not holding up. Who knows it it'll actually happen?

Thursday, December 13, 2007: I talked to him for a bit online tonight. Seems like he's getting worse. When he called me a bit later, crying, I begged him to let me come see him. I need to be with him. I need to know that he's okay. I need to see him, and hug him, and comfort him. I need him to know I'm here for him. He said he'd let me come see him the next day. So that Friday, I work through lunch to get off work at 3 PM so that I can get down to the hospital to see him. 230 PM, I called him, and got sent to voicemail. 3 PM, same thing. I stopped for gas at the station across the street from work, and called him again after I was done filling up, same thing. I know you're at St. Luke's, but how am I supposed to find you if you won't answer your phone. Upset, I just went home and tried to forget about the pain.

Friday night, I went over to a friend's house. Late in the evening, I had a little sit-down with an amazing woman. I've only known her for about a year, and even then I've only actually talked with her maybe three or four times. Needless to say, she doesn't know me very well at all. But we sat down, and she started to read my soul. She saw the pain in my heart, and she knew about the family that had just come into my life recently. She knew about the kids, and she knew how much I loved them. She said I'm destined to be with those kids, and to show them such an immense love. She said I'm the kindest person on the planet. She said I'm sincere, and honest, and truthful, and caring. She said that's my biggest downfall because people like me only live to get hurt. And the entire time she was talkinb about this family to recently enter my life, all I could think about was this cute little family of four - Justin, Elsie, Isabelle, and Garrit. And I cried. I cried, and I cried, and I cried some more every time she told me that the love those kids will show me is greater than any love in the world. She said some things about my home life (like, "It's cold where you sleep," and, "Those you live with can't understand you," and quite a few other things), and everything she said was right on the bulls-eye. It's like she knew me, without me having to tell her anything. It's like she had a power to know, absorb, and to heal. Her hugs - there were many throughout this conversation - comforted me exactly how I needed to be comforted right then. She knew how to help me.

Saturday, December 15, 2007: I called him this morning, just to see if he'd answer, and he did. As I was about ready to play a Rascal Flatts song through to his voicemail ("What hurts the most / Was being so close / And having so much to say / And watching you walk away / And never knowing / What could have been..."), he answered. Upset, I ask when I can see him. He says today, tells me he's at St. Lukes, and registered under Justin Montgomery. At the time I didn't think anything of it (I'll come back to this later), but I told him that I was on my way out the door to pick up my mom's Christmas gift from the warehouse, and that I'd be headed over in about two hours. So I get home from that, and head down to St. Luke's. Get all the way down there, to the admissions desk, and the lady there tells me there's nobody registered there under Justin Montgomery. Nothing for Justin Hart, or Justin Robinson either. Okay, strange. Let's see if I can call him. I probably called him nearly 30 times, to no avail. Ring, ring, ring, ring, voicemail. Each time. I even tried from her cell phone (thank you for letting me try), just in case he was just ignoring my number. That even went to voicemail. I sat around that lobby for an hour and a half trying to call him, text him, desperately trying to find him. Anything? Nothing. I left, with one question unanswered in my mind: Why are you registered with Nathan Montgomery's last name?

I came home, got online, and shortly after I see him get online. I ask him why his name isn't registered at St. Luke's. No asnwer. I ask him why he didn't anwer his phone, he says he was sleeping. But really, near 30 calls should bloody wake you up! You were expecting me to come see you that day! You should have been ready for me! I tell him that I needed to talk to him about the conversation I had the night before, and he said he'd call me. So, he finally calls me, five minutes or so later, and I tell him about what I was told, how she knew me, and how I am destined to take care of those kids. He says, "awe," and then I proceed to tell him about how I've been so confused and frustrated lately. Waiting for a response in silence, he says he's gonna be sick again and that he'll call me back in a bit.

That brings up right up to the present. Will he call back? What will happen? Who knows?

All I know is that I'm tired of being played. Is this all a game? I'm getting out. Wait, no, no I'm not. I'm getting out today. No, no I'm not. What's going on? I don't know.

I have done nothing but care, and love, and GIVE. $150 I gave to his phone, so we could talk like we used to, so we could talk and make more happy times. The teddy bears. The tears I cried for him and his pain. I've given him my all, my everything. I have done nothing but care, and worry, and care some more. I worry about what those kids are feeling, not being able to see their daddy. I worry about him, his health, his life. And I care so much about him and those kids that not being able to see them just makes me feel like someone is stabbing a knife into my heart, turning, and trying to suck it out through a straw. I've shown him so much that I care, wholeheartedly, and unconditionally, and what have I gotten in return? Way too much disrespect and games. The Temptations' song comes to mind: "Why do you build me up, Buttercup, baby, just to let me down." He needs to give me a little bit of consideration. Aren't I supposed to be his boyfriend? (Because until he says otherwise, I still believe it.)

I just want a return of the love I give.