Tami Got Married 1993 BB, please leave this journal alone. It's mine. Like always, I'm happy to have you both read it. We have no secrets and I usually love your comments in my journals, but not this one. Summer 1993
I got a call from a girl from grade school, or so she said, I don't remember her at all. Nothing about her was familiar, but I don't doubt she was being honest. I pretended to know her. I think the ruse was good, she didn't seem to suspect. In the first 30 seconds she spoke about me in her memories of Mohave and Pueblo and Saguaro. She even remembers Tami and I at the prom. Her memory covers the ten years from 1967 to 1977, and I don't have a clue who she is. It's been sixteen years. Should I feel guilty for not remembering? I already forgot her name again. Guilt now? I don't know. She obviously didn't mean anything to me and we never did anything together. So why does this woman remember me so fondly? I can only guess.
After the first 30 seconds she told me she called because she was reminded of me by a wedding announcement in the newspaper. Tami got married. She read me the wedding announcement and said it was sad that I wasn't the man. She is correct, it's very sad. That was a few weeks ago and I still can't stop crying over the thought of it. I am very happy for Tami, but I'm even more sad that it's not me.
I sometimes wonder if I've gone more than a couple days in a row, without serious thoughts of Tami. I don't think I ever have. There's no controlling it. Tamara Jo is wrapped around my heart and there is nothing I can do about it. I have been deeply madly crazy insane in love with her for the last eighteen years of my life. I will be for all the rest of my years. On the night we met I somehow knew it would be this way. I just didn't know what I knew until much later.
Tami, I hope he's a wonderful man. I hope your marriage is happy and your life together is better than anything you hope for. I also hope you dump him immediately and call me. BB keep saying that you'll ring the doorbell one day. For the first time... I doubt it's true. I know you too well. You'll never ring that doorbell. Jealousy will rule your actions. You won't be able to put our distinct loves for you into perspective, to contact me. My understanding of you makes me suspect that you long ago gave up on loving me. For weeks I've been too sad to describe and words still fail today. I'm not sad because you got married. I'm honestly happy for you. I'm sad because it means you won't contact me.
May 31, 1994
Chicken In The Park
It's been almost a year since I heard Tami got married. When I wrote it, I didn't remember the date or his name or their last name. I didn't date the journal and I can't recall when I wrote it. It was sometime last summer. It doesn't matter when. I keep imagining her life now, as a married woman. All these years my thoughts of Tami had no basis in reality and now that's changed. I no longer imagine her traveling the world with an exciting career, or dating several men and maybe even a woman or two. Now my only hopes for my little TJ all involve cleaning a house and taking care of a man who doesn't appreciate her, the way she deserves.
It's selfish I know. But I just can't imagine Tami being happy with any particular man. He needs to be a generic man, with no identity and only a short term romance. I need room for it to be me, eventually. This is the only unhappy corner of my life.
June 26, 2004
Finding and contacting Tami has mixed results. Tonight I added to a long involved story about it, but need to add a bit here as well. This journal is at the center of the problem in contacting Tami.
I got a letter from her today. It's very sad in one way because it seems to show that her marriage is not happy. At least from my experience it's not happy. She's not considering herself to be an individual with the right to do as she pleases. Simply talking to me would be no offense to her marriage, but she doesn't see it that way. It's the reason we've had no contact in all these years. The letter makes it clear that, at least in some ways, I'm still very important to her life. For this I'm grateful. The letter also makes me doubt that Tami is the stalker. The stalker couldn't have written me a letter, which is a big part of the reason that I've always though Tami is the stalker. It explains her never ringing her doorbell, or making a phone call or sending a letter... now I'm confused. By the letter I don't doubt that I've been in her thoughts all these years. I now know that I'm important to her. It makes me very happy. The mixed result is simple. I also know that I'll never hear from her again. I can't stop crying at the thought of it. My hopes for one day seeing the love of my life, are gone in one sentence in a letter.
May 31, 2020
Chicken In The Park
Chicken In The Park was lonely today. I was reminded of this journal and finally found it. It's an old friend I haven't seen in at least fifteen years. At some time in the past I must have deleted a number of entries. I clearly recall it for years having more than the two above. I think they were angry, after BB died. I probably deleted them in the purge.
Tami, I'm not delusional. I know you'll never read anything I write to you. Even after four decades it still makes me happy to talk to you. And somehow, I still hold hope that you WILL read what I write. I need you to know that I'm still the boy you loved. I need to know if you still love me, in any tiny way. Tell me a memory of us. Tell me every detail of that memory. Put it in writing so I can add it to my journal at the point where it took place. It would make me very happy to have your words mixed in here.
Love ALWAYS, Gary February 19, 2021
This journal has been on the back burner for nearly a year, as I tried to decide if I want to make it public. Maybe I'm just extremely sentimental today, being the anniversary of our wedding. It goes online now. Damn I'm being dramatic about this... can't help it, it's that important to me. What difference does it make if I put something on that site? I need to stop thinking anyone will read it. Then again, my only hope is for the right someone to read this... so it gets it's own page... out of hope and desperation... The same reason there's a big image of love at the bottom of each page. Well, that image also allows the content to scroll up from the bottom of the screen. Much better reading that way. Introspection? ALWAYS. There's no life without it.
