Happy birthday to me. It's kind of a surprise party. I certainly did not think that I would live this long, thus, I am happily surprised.

I am an admittedly not-so good driver. More than my share of fender benders, 3 crashes,(two my fault, the other one, not) and 2 speeding tickets in the last 10 years. My efforts to park my big red truck properly, always leave a little something to be desired, but happily, no problems with the lil' Chevy 6-banger that we use for errands and dog-trips.

When going through my seperation & divorce, I often entertained suicidal fantisies wherein, I would purposely take a sharp left into the freeway median-silly, maybe smart me. I mean, what if I had lived through it? What if I had hurt other innocents? How could I wound my family even more than I already had back then, when I had allowed my sociopathic ex to dictate me into almost entirely cutting all ties with them and kill myself just 'cuz my marriage had failed?("Relatives are for Christmas cards and birthday cards," he used to holler at me, "We are the only family we need, now that we are married, so you need to be cutting those apron strings!") It took years to learn that it was all about power, never about love. I am still amazed that there are so many people in the world who only ever use other people-folks that will never kinow love and will never miss it. This is a lesson I will undoubtedly be repeatedly learning, as my remainding years naturally play themselves out-that there are so very many sick individuals walking among us, calculating, hurting, using, manipulating, hiding behind false charm and charismas.

Common sense kept mine a "safe" suicidal fantasy, but undeniably, the urge to take that sharp left was often so very strangely strong. I got past it, and over a great lot of the other than the damage that I allowed my ex to infict my psyche. I am so very over the man that I beleved that I so strongly believed that I did not want to live without. I never ponder why I am here on earth any more, nor what am I supposed to accomplish. I have learned that my life exsists in order for me to love and to learn. I believe in the concept quite strongly, that life is for learning, pure and simple.

I recall quite vividly, my wedding day, when Billyjones, my self-adopted brother took me by the shoulders, looked me in the eye and begged me not to marry HP. "Don't do this," he pleaded, "You will regret this for the rest of your life." Without thinking, I replied, "Billy, I have to make my own mistakes..." I soon allowed HP to dictate my life-my departure from a great job that the Navy trained me foras well as keep me out of college (as he "knew" I'd cheat on him). I allowed him to ruin me financially, professionally, emotionally, and I know now full well, that he will never ever regret his behavior. He will never feel even a twinge of guilt. That's OK though. Just to have him out of my life makes it all worth it. Just to have learned better, albeit the hard way... it is the only way I would have finally understood him, and escaped from him.

I knew the marrige was a mistake long before I went through with the wedding. But Sociopaths are cold charismatic, plotting users and are not often recognized when a young girl thinks that she loves him in spite of his faults. I knew the way HP viewed women was wrong-"Women don't have the strength or the will power to keep their legs closed. All women cheat. All women are whores and bitches," etc., etc., & on and on... I figured that he had been teribly hurt by a woman in his past, and was stuck, unable to recover from his pain. I did not belive his outlook to be remotely correct and I wanted to save him from himself and show him that I was different, that I was worthy of his love. I tried, and quite miserably, I failed.

I had intended to show him that his preconceived notions were erroneous. I knew he was wrong. It was a light bulb moment when a therapist I saw during the break-up asked me, "Cher, whatever made you think that you could change him?" I knew that no one could change another, and I quickly replied, "I didn't want to change him, I wanted to help...him." Suddenly, I understood that trying to help some one, and trying to change them, are one in the same.

Another pearl of wisdom Billyjones offered later gave me another light bulb moment. "You know, Cher, you were really lucky to get out of that marriage alive. I think he wanted to kill you." After my initial denial ("He never even hit me!") I started to recollect the many times that HP put me in harm's way in the name of adventure. Never a back rest or helmets on the Harley Davidson that I had bought for him, as it would "ruin the look of the ride." We had arguments about it, but I never won.

One day, he insisted we going out to the "Potato Patch" area just outside the Bay to go fishing when the Weather Channel had been repeatedly stressing "small craft advisories". Despite my appeals and relunctance, he commanded that we venture forth as " everyone else would heed the warnings and that the white-cap conditions would result in great fishing." We were too busy trying not to capsize to even try to fish,with greatwalls of water flooding the deck, rocking and tossing our lil' home-made boat("Go below & put on your survival suit" he commanded. A suit that took 20 minutes to sueeze into which promised 8-10 minutes of survival in the Pacific... 4 skilled fisherman who also did not adhere to the warnings died on that day, and we came very close. He knew that I was not a strong swimmer, but he also insisted on teaching me to learn to scuba dive at Pt. Reyes where the currents are reputedly the strongest on the California Coast. I spent the unsuccesful training sessions being helplessly bounced from one rock formation to another, bruised, cut, and pissed off. I never confronted him about the place he chose to teach me this elusive skill, but I see now how little regard he had for my health and safety. He was only so very mad that I could not learn to scuba, that he treated me with open scorn and distaste, as if I had purposefully betrayed and disappointed him. The best defense I belatedly learned, was his confrontational, heartless offense.

Yeah, we had big insurance policies on one another. If his neglect and carelessness for my well-being had resulted in my death, he would most assuredly have gotten over my death long before the time that it took me to recover from the divorce. I knew that he was responsible for the death of a teenage girl in his youth, off-road joyriding over hill & dale, until the truck over turned, and she died after 3 weeks in a coma. He only ever bemoaned the disrespect and hate that the folks in his small hometown showed him with after the accident. In my presense, he never mourned the girl, nor admitted guilt, and I wanted to heal his wounds, as I thought him worthy of my help.. She was dead and still, it remained all about him. I can see things more clearly now. I would like to doubt that he actually ever planned my murder, but without a doubt, he'd have taken my life with little or no guilt in his pursuits for adventure, for living on the edge. Let's not go there anymore today. It's my birthday & I do not want to concentrate on my youthful innocence and indescretions, only what I may have hopefully learned from them.

In my past, I have entertained quite a few other self-destrutive habits through this learning process that I call my life. I drank a great deal of alchohol for a great many years. It is no longer an issue. I hung out with many others who shared several other bad habits, ant those too, are no longer an issue. I hang out with Bubba and family these days, a lesson thankfully, comfortingly learned. I recall most of my excuses for the many dependent behaviors I exibited, and none of them ring true any longer. They no longer matter. None of it matters, as long as I learned from the experiences.

Bubba spent $120 on fireworks last night & set them off for me in the rain. There was lots of thunder and lightening, in addition to two other distant neighbors who spent at least 5 times as much as he did on their shows, that I could enjoy everything from the back porch, sitting dry under the overhang. We were witness to lots of color, noise and excitement before returning to the house to calm the dogs, and hit the sack.

He is building us a front porch for my birthday. Last year, he built the back porch. This week is the only week that he takes vacation. Annually, at this time of year, we puppy-sit my sister's beagle, celebrate the 4th of July, and my birthday, see a few movies(he tips the people at the movie theatre-do you know ANYONE who does that? My Bubba tips the ticket dude, as well as the popcorn kid!), and we have some sweet one-on-one together time, taking turns being kind to one another. I have learned that love does not involve being ruled or pain or humiliation, a lesson fifty-some years in the making.

This afternoon, we will go to Applebee's for dinner (our annual celebratory meal), I will have a salad & he will have the steak. I will order the large size greenery, so that I can bring some home for later. As quickly as we can, we will then, head back home, our favorite place, to again, comfort the dogs and kick back.

My life is so good these days, despite losing my beloved father last month. Bubba is sweet, hard-working & supportive. I have wonderful brothers & sisters, nieces and nephews, and no one is estranged from any one else over petty disagreements or power trips. Indiana is so very, very pretty. It took me a long time to learn to appreciate it. The house Bubba has & is still building for us, is located in a beautiful, safe neighborhood. We have 3 K-9 kids, plenty of healthy food, and plenty of healthy love and mutual respect for one another. It's all good now, but I think that I have learned that one can never know great joy, unless one has known great sorrow. God help me because I am still learning, but today, happy birthday to me!