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Chapter 41 – Sailing My New Love

Chapter 41, “Sailing My New Love,” recalls slowing down after years of marathon walking — testosterone pellets, restored energy, and restoring a classic Tartan 33 sailboat with a new love.

I am no longer marathon walking, as the years of pounding the pavement have taken its toll on me, as have the sports injuries from my youth. Like everyone, a half a century young, I have many bumps and bruises. One of my ankle ligaments is now completely gone. I had walked enough, between the miracle surgeries, to stay alive. When I stopped, my testosterone levels plummeted. The same doctor who fought the insurance companies on my behalf, saw this in a blood test and immediately put me on hormone therapy. He said I was going through “manopause” and my hormones were off from the sudden change in lifestyle.

He implanted some Tic Tac sized pellets in my abdomen that helped my body manufacture more testosterone. My body made a ton of it. All a sudden I was losing weight. My belly that had been growing, without explanation, melted away, well, most of it. I started to grow hair all over my body and I woke up with a woody every day. It was like I was fifteen again. While I had remained mostly celibate for several years, I was now hornier than a hotdog on Viagra. I wanted to stay committed to my sexual sobriety, but there was just no way. I had come full circle. Shortly after putting myself on several dating services as “Husband 4 Hire,” I started to get tons of likes, winks and chat requests. I had girls from around the globe contacting me through online dating services. Big data and members of those networks, were spreading my profile all over the world. I already made the decision to meet my soul mate organically, so although I chatted with hundreds of women, I only dated a handful. One such woman joined me to go sailing, but as it was raining, we never made it out of the marina. We put the time to good use and were all over each other.

I thought that I could get to know a woman through a pen pal style relationship. I soon learned that who people say they are and who they really are, rarely match. I had at least ten women try to scam me for money, pretending to be in love with me. I was never fooled and kept most of those dialogues in archives. They are pretty funny. I have made hundreds of real friends via social networking. My online friends or contacts, became the only social life I had, while I was walking and recovering. My social network became my support group, as much as I became theirs. Many who were reading my posts, were battling adversity as well, and shared their experiences in addition to their chapters of love.

I’ve been told many times that I missed my calling. I should have been a therapist. All I was doing was being honest and giving people hope. I am a perfect example of, no matter what your organic destiny, or your genetics, which my health issues stemmed from, miracles happen every day. I am one of those miracles. I connected with many people who showed me love and helped me through my bleakest moments. I also connected with many of my chapters of love who were following my story; although, at the time, I had no idea they had any interest. When I went back and read my former posts, I realized that pain killers act like truth serum. Despite my memory issues, when I meditated and was relaxed, I could recall so much more about my life than I ever could before.

It was as if my brain connected so much more with the love than ever before. I felt the love in my heart I had lost for so long. I now no longer try to fix every woman I date, or seek out women with broken wings. I do not confuse compassion and empathy with love. I have come to know love at a deeper level than I had ever known it. Deciding to live my life, for several years, without sexual or romantic relationships taught me what love is really about. My life-long obsession with sex and love was over. My quest for a true soul mate had started. I still reflect on my chapters of love. I continue to be surprised every time a new memory pops into my head. I run to my computer or cell phone and write it down. For the first time in a year, I took a five-month hiatus from trade brokering and everything else, to edit this novel.

I have taken all my testosterone-induced energy and focused it on restoring a classic Tartan 33 sailboat. Sailing has become the way I escape the limitations I have on land. I am not quite one hundred percent, as the years of surgeries, disease and stents have made the arteries in my heart rigid. When it’s too cold, I am limited. I feel my heart beat much stronger on those days. It is not a comfortable feeling. It’s not life threatening, just a limitation. Hopefully, one day, some genius scientist will figure out a way to make arteries flexible again. When I am sailing, I mostly use my upper body and I can go almost anywhere. It gives me the greatest feeling of freedom I have had since I got sick thirty years ago.

Restoring that sailboat also brought me closer to my son who I gave the sailboat to. It was his graduation gift. While it was maybe a bit much, I was able to obtain the entire sailboat, slip and restoration in trade. My angels took a risk on the trade and it paid off. It was the first time I could give them anything back, for their years of support and generosity. It felt good to give and at the same time be able to give to my son. We had no idea we would love sailing together so much. We are a very good sailing team, despite our few fender benders, when we first started sailing. So far the winter has been very mild, but the cold days are truly challenging. Still, I would not live anywhere else. I hope that in sharing my stories, and chapters of love, I have somehow helped others heal their own hearts, or at least entertained them with my journey. I will post the rest of my stories and chapters of love. I have come to realize that I have lived such a different life, that it is worth sharing, as are the many more chapters of love I can remember.

Even now, as I write this, I am chuckling, remembering the time my friend Peter and I were going to meet two of his Sunday school classmates. They were sisters and wanted us to come over the night Sunday school ended. Their parents were going out late and had made it clear, ironically in Sunday School, that if we came over we were both going to get lucky. We put our white shirts and ties on and waited. They told us to come over after their parents left and gave us their address. We were both so nerdy. It was hilarious. He bought flowers for the older sister. He was a year or two older than me, so it made sense. As far as I was concerned, the younger sister was much hotter anyway. We knocked at the door, but no one answered. Then, through the window, we saw them with nothing but bras and panties on. They signaled to us, giggling and looking through the curtains, hiding themselves. They wanted us to see them half dressed.

They eventually opened the door. They had tons of makeup on and were wearing the Sunday School outfits they wore to mass that night. They invited us in. We all sat on a couch drinking Kool-Aid and eating chips. We were talking about who was going to be with whom. It was similar to a business negotiation. The younger sister was conducting the meeting. They made us both promise that we would not tell anyone, made sure we both had condoms, which were a bitch to get back then; and that we were going to be gentle with them. They both then went to their rooms to change. As soon as they were ready, they were going to call us simultaneously to have sex with them. They wanted to lose their virginity together. They went into their rooms. We were surprised they were going through with it. We were both nervous. Just as they called us, the door behind us opened and we heard their father calling them. They were yelling, “We’re ready,” “We’re ready.” Their father didn’t see us. As soon as the door opened, my friend bolted into the kitchen and I followed. Unlike most houses, there was no back door, just a staircase to the basement. He ran down the steps and I followed, thinking he must know something about the father I didn’t. I practically flew down those steps.

As we learned, there was no way out from the basement either. After making that discovery, Peter climbed into the dryer and shut the door. By that time, the father was calling “Peter,” “Peter,” come up here. He just stayed in the dryer. I was not about to climb into the washing machine. Finally, the girls’ father came down the stairs and looked at me dumbfounded. He asked where Peter was. I pointed to the dryer. At that moment, the door opened and he tumbled out. He tried to tell him that we were playing Hide and Seek, but he knew it was bullshit.

When we got back upstairs, I just sat there. The girls were mortified. They couldn’t believe how badly Peter screwed up. If he just stayed in the living room, their father would have left in two minutes. He just came home to get some show tickets he and his wife forgot. We would have had the time of our life. Instead, he sat there red-faced and was blasted by the girl’s very religious mother and father. It was one of the funniest things I ever saw in my life. Every time I looked at the girls we started laughing. Neither Peter nor the parents seemed to find any of it amusing.

Peter never did hook up with the older sister. She hated him after that debacle. As soon as the younger sister was no longer grounded, we met at the park and had a very sweet one-time encounter. It was on the black railroad train that was a major attraction in Eisenhower park. However, when I think back, what immediately comes to mind isn’t the encounter in the park. All I could picture was my friend Peter, tumbling out of that dryer.

 

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Chapter 42 – Kindergarten Kiss: Next Chapter →

Chapter 42 – Kindergarten Kiss

Chapter 42, “Kindergarten Kiss,” looks back at how young he was when he first fell in love — childhood friends on the block, and a kindergarten kiss that started it all.

When I look back at my life I truly cannot believe how young I was when I first fell in love, even if it was puppy love as they call it. It was the first day of kindergarten. We walked to school that morning. My mom almost always walked us to school the first day. My older sister was with us as well. It was not very far, probably less than a half a mile down Newbridge Road, to Newbridge Road Elementary School. I was five and my younger sister was only two and in a baby carriage. For some reason, we were told to bring a record with us. I had one of my father’s favorites with me. I was really small. When I was born, I weighed only four pounds, fourteen ounces. I was never put into an incubator and it would take years before I was eating or holding food down properly. I was a runt and had health problems from the time I was born. Eventually I grew almost a foot per year and as time went on lost my runt status, but my parents were surprised I survived.

I was not exposed to more than the friends I had on my block, or near my block, as we were not allowed to walk very far from home. All the same, there were plenty of kids on my block. We had a nice little niche gang that played together. There was one girl who caught my attention as we walked up to the brick doorway to the school. She had jet-black hair. She was beautiful. She wore a pretty white dress and what looked like ruby slippers. That was the style back then. She was more dressed up than anyone and was the prettiest girl I had ever seen.

As we waited for the bell to ring, a kid I never saw before and I were both staring at her. We noticed each other staring at her. We stared each other down. Don’t ask me why, or how, but we both instinctively knew that we wanted her to ourselves, even though we had no idea why. He was much bigger than I was. When he saw everyone had a record and he didn’t, he tried to take mine. I did what my father told me to do if anyone ever tried to take anything that was mine. I punched him as hard as I could, square in his face. It was the first day of kindergarten and I was punched another student because of a record. Well not really, it was an excuse to get that girl’s attention. And that I did. She was staring back at us both, until that punch. Then, for the rest of the morning, she stared at only one of us… me.

I didn’t have the courage to go up to her, let alone, speak to her. I choked on my words every time I tried. It took several weeks for her to come to me. It was during naptime. We would always stare at each other when we were napping. We had some kind of connection, but she was even shyer than I was. We had been staring at each other for weeks, but never spoke. At that point I don’t think I spoke to any of the girls in class.

At nap-time, for fifteen minutes, we would have to sit or lay on the floor, or at our desks, and close our eyes. I believe it was after we were given some milk and cookies and had playtime. This day was different. She was smiling and running around the block fort some of the other boys and I made, including the kid I punched. We actually became good friends and stayed that way through high school.

I was laying by the entrance to the block fort. She laid down in front of me and positioned her head so she was staring almost directly at me. We never closed our eyes and just stared at each other. I was so in love with her that I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I didn’t know what love was of course, but instinct just took over. Just before nap-time ended, she slid her hand out from under her head and made sure the tips of her fingers touched mine. I was in heaven. I was blown away by something as simple as the tiny touch of her fingers. I knew then, she liked me. too.

As we both stood up, I hit my head, really hard, on the blocks. My ears were ringing. I clobbered myself. It was all I could to not cry. I was so embarrassed. I thought that was it, I would probably lose her. At that moment, she stood up right next to me, looked at my head and said, “it will be ok” and kissed me on my lips. The teacher saw the kiss and immediately pulled us aside and told us that we were not allowed to kiss in class. She was careful not to let anyone hear. From that point on, although we tried to be together, we were always, strategically, kept apart.

When the first grade started, she was not in my class. I always hoped to see her in the hallway or at lunch. We had contact from time to time. At the end of third grade my family was moving to Arizona for a year. The last day I was in school, my teacher bought me a big sundae. My little friend joined me in the cafeteria and I shared it with her. When we were done, and getting ready to go back to class, she kissed me to say goodbye.

When we moved back from Arizona less than a year later, people were very surprised to see me. All I could think about was the girl with the black hair and ruby slippers, who was my first kiss. I looked everywhere for her, but she had transferred to another school and I never saw her again. I have often looked back at that first kiss and wondered why as a species we are so strict with our affection. We limit the feelings we allow our children to express. I never inhibited my own children in that way.

That’s why it was so endearing to me when one day my son, who was going to pre-school, came home and told me the story of his first kiss. He started by saying it wasn’t his fault and that she does this to him every time she sees him. I was getting worried that he was going to tell me something I should be concerned about. But, as his story continued, he told me how a little girl in day care would come over to him and kiss him all the time and he didn’t know why. He said, they weren’t allowed to kiss, but when no one was looking, she did it anyway. Then he said, “she says I’m her boyfriend so I guess that makes her my girlfriend.” Then he got sidetracked with one of his favorite TV shows, Thomas the Tank Engine. After his show, he took a nap. While he was asleep, I reflected on the girl with black hair who gave me my first kiss. I felt so very happy to see my son carrying on the tradition. That was the most innocent chapter of love in my life and of course, my first romantic kiss.

 

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Chapter 43 – My Co-Pilot: Next Chapter →

Chapter 43 – My Co-Pilot

Chapter 43, “My Co-Pilot,” recalls trying to return to New York — each winter too much — until a model he photographed asked to co-pilot his RV back north.

I tried to come back to New York several times. Each time the winter was too much for me, so I would have to leave. When I tried at the end of 2011, I was back in the hospital within a few days of my return. Three months later, all the mayhem started. This was long after I had gone through more surgeries than I could remember. It was, however, before my leg bypass and several of the more extreme surgeries. I was told years earlier that my heart arteries were fixed, but I knew they were not.

I was about to leave Florida for New York in my RV when a model I photographed asked if she could come with me. I was still producing reality series, but I lost my financial backing. So, in-between surgeries, I was attempting to reboot my career as a producer and director. When I started architecting an online broadcasting company, it was not to get into technology or build a social media platform. My goal was to start an online Netflix or Hulu, long before high definition streaming was mainstream. As a result of trying to buy content to stream, and learning how expensive it was, I started producing my own. I produced feature films, documentaries and entertainment series. My IMDB profile was going off the charts. So was my career, but eventually, I couldn’t even hold the cameras, let alone produce a series. I shut that part of the company down. For years, my partners and I continued to build that application. I was living in an RV. We never had enough capital or the right team of software developers to complete the project. I have since tried to talk every person, who asks, out of building apps. There is too much competition from gazillion dollar software companies. The process of building software is equivalent to playing chess with ten masters at the same time. It’s very challenging and risky.

Eventually, on the advice of some investors, that company was repositioned into a security platform based solution. A new management team and board of directors took over. They asked me how secure the platform was. When I explained how we combined a unique set of open source technologies, they asked if I could make it even more secure. It took me months, using every technical skill I possessed, to design what I believed to be an unhackable network architecture. I used biometrics, security protocols and cloud computing, along with a cryptology that, in theory, seemed more secure than anything out there. I never believed that we were so unique, but they thought we could patent it and were sitting on a gold mine. When we did sell the company, financed through a note to the new board and team, they immediately started to argue with each other. They undermined each other’s efforts before the design was ever upgraded or completed. Eventually Adobe bailed on the flash player for mobile devices and the open source coding languages we were using and the company folded. I was already working on trying to get back into producing. Returning to New York was going to be my test. Years later, we learned that the military used just about every concept and design we tried to patent in one way or another. We found no evidence that anyone had tried to combine the entire design, but patents were not going to be issued.

By the time we left Florida, I had already taken tons of nude and implied nude photographs of her. She was as interested in using her assets to promote her career as I was in using them to market her. I had planned to put out a book featuring nudes, or at least hoped to. I was building my book if nothing else. She was well built with a body like an FHM model. She was not shy about showing it. She paraded around the beaches completely naked, even during the day. We even shot in front of construction workers, who would whistle and howl. She loved it. It didn’t bother her, so it didn’t bother me. I was doing everything possible to stay on Hollywood’s radar, even though I was MIA for years.

I was shooting documentaries in Nashville, The Grand Canyon, Vegas, even dune buggies in the desert. I would shoot anything that could help snap the production side of my company back into gear, while at the same time walking six to ten miles a day, still bleeding from two failed surgeries. I barely had enough money for gas. One model was very generous. She gave me a huge check, as an act of kindness, to thank me for the love I had shown her on her sixteenth birthday. She was an heiress who inherited a substantial trust fund. My generosity to her was repaid with her own to me. I now had enough money to return to and possibly stay on Long Island.

Before we left, my co-pilot told me that she too was sick and that she couldn’t afford health care. She was in serious trouble. She might have been even sicker than I was. I was moved by her situation and motivated to help her. The only way I could, was to help her jump-start her career. I couldn’t afford my own health care, so I certainly couldn’t pay for hers.

As our departure date for New York neared, she started to pack and told her boyfriend she was coming with me. He was not happy, but she didn’t seem to care. I believed she was coming for health reasons and because she wanted a future with me. That is, if I was going to have one. A few days before we left things went downhill between her and her boyfriend. As a result, she had to bring her children to Nashville, where her former husband lived. She had no money and no way to get them there. So, we loaded them into my RV and drove. I had the opportunity to service the RV there, so it was a dual-purpose trip. We camped several times. Her children were young and as adorable, as was she. Well, she wasn’t adorable in the traditional sense. She was more like a Raquel Welch or Kate Upton, with a country girl personality.

We cooked together and lived in the RV as we made our way to Nashville. When we arrived, her former ex was drunk, so there was a lot of drama. I was shocked she left her kids with him, but his new wife assured us she would take care of them. We got the RV serviced and left for New York. As we were leaving Nashville, she used her skills to motivate me to take her to Virginia first, to see her mom. She said she had not seen her in years and that her mom was sick. We shot the entire trip, and we were making record time. It was much easier with her helping and it was so much less lonely. Anyone who has spent a lot of time on the road, knows how isolated it feels.

When we got to her mom’s house, I was busy editing a video I hoped would be the start of my come back. I shot with the trust fund model just prior to the road trip and was committed to editing it before we got back to New York. I parked outside her mom’s house and opened the RV, as she spent time with her sick mom. Her mom was sweet and kind. That day, I found out that she wasn’t sick at all. I was disappointed in my new co-pilot for lying to me. That’s why I stayed in the RV that night. We were supposed to go back to New York, film a flash mob and then hit Times Square on New Year’s Eve. The temperature was dropping and I was not in good shape. I was bleeding again and I couldn’t feel my right leg most of the time. Regardless, I wanted to get back to New York to see how my heart would hold up. It seemed to be fine in the 85-95 degree Florida heat.

By the time we got back to New York, I was bleeding all over the RV and could no longer keep it a secret. I was in bad shape. She was concerned. She was also excited, as this was her first trip to New York. I shot the flash mob. The following day I went to the emergency room and had surgery. They botched the surgery. I would bleed for years. However, we were in New York and I was not going to let a little surgery stop me. I was taking painkillers so I didn’t feel much. For the second time in my life, I managed to get onto the main stage at Times Square, on New Year’s Eve. I shot a reality series episode with her that night. I could not believe I was granted access to the main stage. I joined Ryan Seacrest and a host of A list celebrities. I brought her with me for the first act. She left the stage at intermission. They wouldn’t let her back, when she started acting like a diva. The security team heard her being disrespectful to me and wouldn’t let her back on stage. There was nothing I could do about it.

She wanted me to come back down, but I was busy photographing Taylor Swift and a host of other celebrities. I knew the shots would be critical to restarting my career. It was significantly more important than attending to a model who lied about her mother being sick and who now was acting like a diva. I shot the entire New Year’s Eve program from that stage. She went back home a few days later. I tested her by offering her health care or cash, as compensation for her services, a few days after New Year’s Eve. When she took the cash, I knew she was not being honest about her illness either. Shortly after the new year she went MIA. She was hooking up with another photographer in New York City. I knew that this chapter was not even going to get started. I canceled my contract with her the next day when I learned her children were calling and telling her that their father was drinking again and the school was not allowing them to attend. We exchanged a few nasty words. It wasn’t easy for either of us as she stayed with me through some of the worst days of my life in a very small RV.

You would be surprised how close you can become to someone you travel with, especially a co-pilot who used her beauty to play you. We were going to produce twenty-four episodes of that series. The New Year’s Eve episode was our first and last. It was one of the best New Year’s Eves I ever had. The performances by so many major celebrities took place not twenty feet from my camera. It was a “Make A Wish Foundation” evening for me and I photographed everyone and all of it. I will never forget the moment Taylor Swift walked up to my camera and smiled directly at me. There were only a few of us on stage for her performance. All the other photographers and media were asked to step away at that point. However, I befriended the one photographer who had clearance. I guarded his gear when he went to the bathroom earlier. He slipped me his ID and they allowed me to stay for the entire show. It was a great night and a short-lived chapter of love. I did start to fall in love with her and her children, before I realized she was playing me. I figured I deserved it, as I was not always an angel myself. It was another lesson well learned.

She was my co-pilot and we shared some great shoots together. One day when I publish my human figure collection, a coffee table book, you will see just how shapely she was. Another chapter gone, but there were so many in my life. I was interested in a soul mate, as opposed to another hook up. I had grown so much, mostly spiritually, as a result of dealing with my health challenges.One thing was very apparent during this aborted chapter of love. I no longer had the luxury of wasting time on someone who was obviously using me for my creative talents. I did not want to go back to that lifestyle. I know my soul mate is out there somewhere, perhaps looking for me as well.

 

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Chapter 44 – The Hitchhiker: Next Chapter →

Chapter 44 – The Hitchhiker

Chapter 44, “The Hitchhiker,” recalls life as a single father after divorce — unable to afford travel, driving anywhere USA, and picking up a hitchhiker on the way.

As a single father, I couldn’t afford to travel after my divorce. I took my children skiing in upstate New York and to the beach. Long Island beaches and the ski slopes up north were destinations people traveled to from around the world, so it wasn’t a hardship. But, I hadn’t seen much of the US, other than when I was a boy. When I started my journey in the RV, I hoped to find adventure anything that would provide something different to look at or photograph while I was walking. I was also living out a bucket list of sorts albeit one on a minuscule budget. Most days on the road were like that of a professional athlete. I had my good days and my bad days. I never knew what my tomorrow was going to be like as my health roller-coastered daily, sometimes even hourly.

What I did know was that I couldn’t walk on Long Island or in New York City any more. Everything started to look the same. I felt as if I knew every blade of grass, in every park and every beach on Long Island. The City, was too noisy. Life seemed like an endless treadmill. I felt like Bill Murray’s character in “Ground Hog Day.” Incidentally, I met and photographed him at the Forest Hills US Open quite informally. When I left New York, one of my life-long friends helped me pick up the camper and attach it to my car. He was so much better at things like that and I wanted to see him one time before I left. I thought I might never see him again. We went back decades. I was the one who introduced him to his wife. They spent a month in my waterbed. I couldn’t get rid of them. But, we were like brothers, so I didn’t want to. I was happy they found love. They have three boys now and have spent decades together.

I was on my way to anywhere USA. I was terrified of leaving everything behind and going to God knows where? The day I left, my daughter called me crying. She wanted to see me one more time, but it was too late. I was already hours away. I contemplated driving all the way back to New York, just to give her one last hug. I couldn’t bring myself to see her. I was crying for hours, knowing that I might never see her again. It was as if my heart stayed on Long Island, with her. I was trying to convince myself that it was for the best. The doctors had been telling me for many years that the stents were failing. There was nothing they could do. I never told anyone and especially tried to keep it from my children. At that point my health was deteriorating rapidly in ways I could never have predicted and I didn’t want my children to see me suffer.

I don’t know if she will ever forgive me for leaving without coming to see her. But, my heart was torn and broken, both literally and figuratively. My son was studying in Sweden so there was some distance between us. I truly believed that I would die on the road. I was going to make the best of the last chapter of my life. I would film everything, so they could see what a fruitful life I led. I was writing my manuscript and this book, so I was going to leave them a documentary about myself…their dad. I thought, what more could a father do than to leave a complete account of his life. I wanted to end it happily, as opposed to miserably, locked inside, not being able to venture outdoors all winter.

By the time I got to Nashville, my little puppy Buda was peeing all over the car and the RV was not working properly. The owners of the RV company were generous and thoughtful. I was booking flash-mobs all over the country, even though I was getting too sick to shoot them. I thought, wow, all I have to do is produce one in each state. It would only take a few minutes to shoot. I produced one with Toderick Hall, the musician and it got millions of views. I thought it was a viable plan. I was completely wrong, as producing flash mobs was a hit or miss adventure. Eventually, I started to film documentaries and edit them at night, in the RV.

By the time I got to Nashville, I learned how diverse people are around the country. I couldn’t believe how big the USA is. I was driving six hours a day and walking three to four hours. It seemed like I was getting nowhere fast. Most of the time I would stay overnight at truck stops. In 2011 and 2012 the fallout from “The Great Recession” was still plaguing the US. In Nashville, street and honky tonk musicians who were working for tips, were barely surviving. I took a lot of photographs and hooked-up with several musicians to make a documentary. Then, I left and went to see Elvis’ home. I always admired Elvis. When I got there, it was not what I expected, so I didn’t even go in. I headed west to the Grand Canyon, but not before I picked up a hitchhiker, a female who was making her way to L.A.

She was down to earth. She carried the traditional European style back pack. I could tell she was “living off the land”, because although she was beautiful, she had a certain toughness to her. She was young and must have been on the road for a while. We drove about ten hours while she told me her life story and kept me company. I was concerned that I could be held up, but it didn’t matter at that point. I said screw it and pulled over to get her. Later, I would realize how dangerous the roads were, but not because of hitchhikers. I had no idea how to drive, towing a 4500-pound trailer behind my car. I drove past tornados without knowing it. I blew a tire in Arizona and was fortunate to have help from the local police who changed it for me. I took every kind of risk one could take, without much thought. I was going to see America first-hand. The most important aspect of my journey, other than trying to walk my way back to good health, was the people and nature.

I made a documentary about the Mexican gray wolf in New Mexico. I was up close and personal with the wolves. I told the handler about my health and she let me in their enclosure. She went in with me, but until you see a pack of wolves stalking you, circling you, you have no idea how fortunate you are to not encounter them in the wild. I was also up close and personal with bobcats and mountain lions for the first time in my life. I even watched a mated pair of American Bald Eagles build a nest. I photographed them many times. My bucket list was turning out to be quite an adventure after all. The backpacking hitchhiker made it even more eventful. We were not together all that long, so she was not like my “co-pilot.” She wanted to walk and backpack from Tennessee to L.A. She had a car and said she was from a great family, so she wasn’t in a desperate situation. It was serendipitous that I found her, as I needed a distraction at the time. At one point, I was lost. My car’s navigation was choosing poor routes and often I would get stuck in terrible traffic. When I met her, I was on some mountain, in the middle of nowhere. But, it was a beautiful nowhere.

As we were driving through the mountains, she started to change her clothes, in the front seat next to me. She then asked me straight out, “would you like a blow job.” I was completely taken by surprise. I hesitated, thinking she was going to ask me for money. I looked at her as if she was just screwing with me. Before I could answer she unbelted my pants and went down on me. I was driving down the mountain and trying to lay back in my seat. I didn’t leave LI thinking I was going to find love, or even a chapter of love. I was focusing completely on my health. She was determined to get me off. I didn’t even know if I could. It was way too dangerous. I hadn’t tested my “gear” for quite a while. But, as I drove down the mountain, she went to town. As I came, she kept sucking until I was completely drained. At that point I was driving erratically, but who wouldn’t have been? After I came, I asked if she wanted to stop at a campground, shower and stay the night with me. As the mountain became hills and then eventually flattened out, she said thanks for the ride and got out as fast as she got in.

We had talked for hours. I had met another down-to-earth “mid-west farmer’s daughter,” reminiscent of my neighbor in the city, years earlier. I will never forget her , or that matter the blowjob, despite the fact she was in and out of my life so quickly. This was going to be a great bucket list. After I dropped her off, I went to see Hollywood and Beverly Hills. I met with an investor, but he decided not to sponsor the feature films I wanted to produce. He knew I was too sick. We made a deal before I drove from Nashville to California, that if he didn’t invest, he would pay for my gas and costs to get back to New York. He kept his word. He gave me a few thousand dollars and I did head back. The shit hit the fan health wise as soon as I arrived in California.

I drove to Vegas, The Grand Canyon, literally all over the United States on the way back, zigzagging my way around the country. Not because I wanted to, but because that damn navigation kept taking me on the craziest routes. In retrospect, it was great that it did, as I saw so much more of the USA than I would have otherwise. Interestingly enough, when I drove through Detroit I was shocked! I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It looked like the Bronx, back in the seventies, with all the windows missing or boarded up, on the buildings and stores. It was unbelievable that this was the United States. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought I was in Beirut.

I made it back and had my surgeries. I went back out again and hoped I would run into my soul mate. While I had given rides to many hitchhikers on Long Island, I had never picked up a female before. I certainly never expected to have a short chapter of love with a girl I met wandering alone in the mountains. I often wonder where she is today. I know most people would think she was easy and think less of her because we had just met. The truth is, we were fascinated with each other. I often wished I would have convinced her to stay with me longer. Maybe one day she will read this novel and reach out to me. I know in my heart that one day my soul mate will find me; God knows how long I have searched for her.

 

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Chapter 45 Destiny’s Song: Next Chapter →

Chapter 45 Destiny’s Song

Chapter 45, “Destiny’s Song,” recalls it was destiny’s song before they even met — walking arm in arm as if in love again, time irrelevant to their circumstances.

It was destiny’s song before we met, but I didn’t know it until long after I woke. She was a teenager. Somehow, she came to me, as she once was. A time long before her heart became callused and bruised, even broken. Before she lost hope and faith, or maybe a time before I lost mine. It was as if she was with me in a dream, sharing the deepest feeling of love we ever experienced together. She was not cold, or mean, or damaged. Her body language and her eyes showed me she was completely healed. She was looking directly into my eyes, something she had not done since we parted.

We were walking arm in arm as if we were again in love. Time was irrelevant to our circumstances, circumstances that split us apart as if a giant dagger had been plunged into our hearts and split our souls. As we walked down a golden pathway there was no direction, no sense of time, or urgency or motion. It did not matter. All I could focus on were her eyes. We were older now but her eyes were as young as the first day I saw her, somehow even younger.

We were walking arm in arm. She was focused completely on me and I on her. I don’t know how we were walking, as we didn’t look to see where we were going and for some reason we didn’t have to. We were walking as if we were being guided by a divine source and did not need sight. We were feeling our way along the path. There were twists and turns as if we were in a maze and yet there was no structure to it. Nothing had color or substance, but I could feel her and she could feel me. She was flirting, laughing, and smiling; more so than ever before. Even though we spent many years together, I had never seen her like this. I was happier than I had ever been. The feeling was euphoric, as if we were in heaven itself. Even so, I knew I was dreaming. It was an experience reminiscent of the angel of love who came to me when I was waking from surgery, in agony, with painkillers next to useless. But this felt more real. Here I was completely aware of everything and I was not drugged. I was with my destiny again and our souls were somehow brought back together.

As we walked, she was teasing me, flirting with me, kissing my cheeks lightly and holding my hand, guiding me along that bright golden path. I was confused as to where we were and I could not understand how we were together. My heart was no longer empty. Somehow, she lost all her animosity towards me and was released from her own pain. This was a place with no pain, no remorse, no fear, nothing but love. Love was all I could feel. I tried to understand what was happening and where we were. I couldn’t figure any of it out. This was not the place I was when I came out of surgery. It was as if I entered her heart and she entered mine. It was as if time was irrelevant and simultaneously, we were in the future, the past, and the now. Everything I had hoped and prayed for after we were torn apart was happening in real time and everything that had happened before was gone. Anything that was not pure love did not exist. It was as if time had stopped to bring us together in the most loving place. It was heaven, or so it seemed.

As we walked she would lightly let go of my hand, reassuring me she was not going anywhere. As she did she would run her fingertips along my wrist and fingers until the tips of our fingers would separate. At the exact moment our fingers would lose contact, simultaneously, somehow our other hand would connect again. She would be instantaneously behind me or beside me in a new location. Touching me, caressing me, hugging me, passing through me. My heart was growing and the love was overwhelming and at the same time, calming and reassuring. I would hug her, squeeze her hands and look into her eyes. I could not break eye contact and for some reason neither one of us was blinking. Every time she let go she would change her position as if she was weightless. She could move without a gap in contact although I could tell by our touch, she was letting go.

We were walking but it felt more like swimming, as there was no gravity even though our feet were touching some form of surface. We would turn a corner and she would mysteriously disappear and reappear, hugging my heart again, from a different place. I couldn’t understand how we were moving. It took no effort. Our eyes could see into each other’s eyes from every angle. It was primal and peaceful and warm. It was the greatest love I have ever felt. The euphoria lasted for what seemed to be hours, days, years, decades, forever… timeless, but instantaneous at the same time.

A cold burst of freezing air chilled my body to the point that it woke me. I opened my eyes to the realization that I was dreaming and she was gone. I remembered everything, but the feeling in my heart lasted only for the briefest of moments. And then reality, gravity and time came back instantaneously. I shut my window as fast as I could. I again closed my eyes and willed myself back to sleep. I pulled the blanket over my head. If it was in my dream she was coming to me, I wanted to dream again, I wanted that feeling to continue, more than life itself.

I laid there trying to avoid focusing on anything that would keep me from sleep. It was to no avail.   Sleep eluded me. It was early in the morning. I opened a bottle of wine as fast as I could and tried to sedate myself, so I would sleep again. That attempt failed as well. That incredible love was gone. If it was a dream, it was not like any I ever experienced prior. It was as if I was taken to heaven and back. Then as if by Gods hand, decades of confusion and anguish were gone. I knew I was now able to love again. The cracks in my heart had finally healed. She was not my destiny. I know now my destiny is still waiting for me somewhere. No longer would I simply wait for her to find me. I would now start again searching for her.

 

← Previous Chapter: Chapter 44 – The Hitchhiker
Chapter 46 Husband For Hire: Next Chapter →

Chapter 46 Husband For Hire

Chapter 46, “Husband For Hire,” is a personal ad from an adventurous, creative man seeking his soul mate — a writer, producer, and director who has never truly felt loved.

I am an adventurous, creative, man who is looking to share my life with a soul mate. I have been fortunate enough to have many chapters of love, many more than I shared here, but never with my soul mate. I live in gratitude, pay it forward every day, am a helpless romantic and take great pride in maintaining most of my relationships for life. I am an artist, entrepreneur, athlete and father of two incredible young adults. I am caring, intelligent, wise, understanding and giving.

I have always thought that I was never truly loved. Perhaps it is because I have such a hard time loving myself. I would like to fall in love with a woman who sees all that I am and for all the right reasons. I hope that I will see her, for all the right reasons, as well. I tend to be a “Brainiac,” yet, at the same time entertaining, especially when the opportunity arises to break out my cameras and create. I am very passionate about sailing. I hope to navigate the world with my love one day. For now, I am navigating Long Island and loving it. I am family oriented. For some reason, children seem to enjoy my entertaining ways, especially when we play Simon Says.

I write professionally, produce and direct professionally and own an alternative currency trade network. I am your classic entrepreneur. I was sick for a very long time, but thanks to modern medicine and technology, I am much better now. I live a very healthy lifestyle. Despite the fact I have worked as a professional photographer and have photographed beautiful women from around the world, I do not think my future soul mate will be from the entertainment industry, or at least not someone who dedicates her life to it.

At this point living in and around Huntington, Long Island is where I want to be. If possible, I will buy some land and build a log cabin…a dream of mine since I was a child. I literally started my life over in 2015, for at least the third time, with not much more than my health intact. It’s odd to not be living in my own home. I had been since my twenties. Truly, I never thought I would make it past thirty, haven been given multiple diagnoses of “don’t make any long-term plans.” Now that technology and modern medicine have caught up to my health issues, I hope I will live a very long life, barring sinking my sailboat in the middle of the ocean.

I am quite happy living out of a suitcase, RV, tiny apartment, or most certainly the sailboat. I have little financial security and work fifteen hours a day. If you have been fortunate enough to secure our future, I am humble enough to be grateful. If not, eventually I will, or we will. I am working very hard to secure the retirement and future I was not supposed to have.

I love everyone, as I owe my life to society, the surgeons, the doctors, nurses, my angel investors, family, friends, clients and most importantly, my children. I dream of living my life with a partner, as opposed to sharing endless chapters of love. I desire a novel of love with a soul mate. It is something I have hoped and longed for my entire life. Although I have had so many chapters of love, I can still fall in love as if it was my first time. My heart is pure and my intentions are always honest and moral. I do not lie, unless it is to spare someone’s feelings. Despite the fact every single word of this book is true, I have intentionally substituted parts of every chapter with parts of others, to protect the identify of my chapters of love.

I have so many more chapters of love I could write about. I believe the ones I already shared truly express the overall way in which I have loved. You should never have to ask me about how many times I have been in love, as I have been in love more times than I can remember. I no longer want to hook-up with partners in non-committed relationships. As such, I remain sexually conservative, despite the “oops, did that just happen moments,” in my recent past. When I do find you, or you find me, I want it to feel like home, whenever we are together. I know that when we are not, we will each be counting the time until we are together again. You are loyal, trustworthy, honest, kind and possess so many more qualities that will surprise me. Children especially love you, but so does everyone else. You are drama free, for the most part, and affectionate.

You put your family first and are happy with the life you have built for yourself. You listen as much as you speak, regardless of who is talking. You are beautiful beyond words, even though not everyone thinks you are. I believe that you are. You will love me forever, as I will love you. We cannot predict the future, except that our love will last an eternity. You will love our children more than you love me.

 

LOVE IS THE ONLY THING WE TAKE WITH US,

AND THE ONLY THING WE LEAVE BEHIND.

 

LIVE IN GRATITUDE

PAY IT FORWARD

CHERISH YOUR CHAPTERS OF LOVE

 

John Joseph Dowling Jr.

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