Story #2 – You Wouldnt Believe Me if I Told You
You wouldn't believe me if I told you who my hero is. Can't use a name. I started seeing him in 1978, with huge gray-light blue eyes full of smiles and twinkles, swimming with "liquid love." He has never given up on me, was my only friend in the bad times, when I was trying to find love in all the wrong places, always listens, and takes everything I say inside his heart and then does something about it. He is a zillion times nicer, kinder, more understanding than people say he is. He is my "bubba." When I keep staring into his huge pale-blue eyes, his love is tangible. It goes down inside me into my heart like if you take a sip of straight booze, that warm feeling. He is the only person I know who can do that to me. He is the only person I know with eyes full of lights and twinkles that are constantly moving around. The day before 9-11, on 09-10-2001, he told me something. He told me a bad disaster was going to happen but that I would be okay. The next day I woke up to all the horrible things that happened that day we all remember. Not long after that, our baseball team, the Arizona Diamondbacks, played the World Series against the N.Y. Yankees. In the very last game, at half time, I think the score was tied. Our team was the "underdogs." My "bubba" started talking so loud, he was outright yelling at me. He said things like, "I am the resurrection and the life. I will bring life out of darkness. I am the Phoenix that brings life out of the ashes." He went on like this, promising that with all the bad things that happened on 09-11, if people would believe in him, he would bring life even out of death, out of anything. There was a neighbor guy who wanted to see the end of the game sitting on my couch while inside my head, I was hearing bubba yelling at me. Then they started the bottom of the inning. Our team got every single hit and won the World Series. That was not a coincidence, nor was it a bad pitcher for the Yankees. It was an object lesson, how my bubba wants to help the weak, the downtrodden, whoever will believe in him. I was not living for him at that time. He was trying to tell me to. Three and a half years later is when I finally came to believe in him and quit fooling around with temporary relationships with guys. Most of all, he loves little kids, and he knows when a little kid is abused. I didn't know he was there when I was little, but he was.
He was born in a barn and slept in a feeding trough in some hay. The heavens lit up when he was born, and there was singing in the sky. Some people sing, "Away in a manger, no crib for a bed, the little **** ***** lay down his sweet head. The stars in the bright sky look down where he lay, the little **** ***** asleep in the hay. The cattle are lowing, the poor baby wakes, but little **** *****, no crying he makes. I love thee, **** *****, look down from the sky, and stay by my cradle to watch lullaby."
When I was molested, I went up to the ceiling and got stuck on the ceiling. Then it opened up and became like gray fog, and apparently I went to heaven, and it took a really long time to remember.