<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942</id><updated>2011-12-21T02:02:38.386-05:00</updated><category term='Holidays'/><category term='Regret'/><category term='lost Love'/><category term='Close Call....'/><category term='Wedding Vows'/><category term='True love'/><category term='starting over'/><category term='hurt'/><category term='Release'/><category term='Daddy'/><category term='Suicide.'/><category term='Fairy Tales'/><category term='Death of Love'/><category term='Broken Hearts'/><category term='Heart ache'/><category term='Waiting'/><category term='Soulmates'/><category term='Old Friends'/><category term='Still there...'/><category term='Goodbye'/><category term='Happiness'/><category term='Scca'/><category term='Sorry'/><category term='Future'/><category term='Divorce'/><category term='sorrow'/><category term='Smile'/><category term='Caught'/><category term='Scared'/><category term='Forever'/><category term='great days'/><category term='Questions'/><category term='Snow'/><category term='Loving.'/><category term='choices'/><category term='moving on'/><category term='longing'/><category term='Time'/><category term='Mixed emotions'/><category term='Messages to love ones'/><category term='Epitaph'/><category term='letting go'/><category term='Information'/><category term='Pain'/><category term='Death'/><category term='Missing you'/><category term='heart break'/><category term='breaking up'/><title type='text'>Problems with Pirates</title><subtitle type='html'>A look into the tortured soul of someone in love.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>67</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-5504542552776747288</id><published>2011-02-09T23:35:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T10:40:22.278-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Snow'/><title type='text'>The Snow...</title><content type='html'>It's snowing here in Duluth. It's rare when we see snow in the Atlanta area and when we do people go nuts. It's the big wet heavy flakes. A light coating on the grass turns the darkness of night into a light glow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I use to love it when it snowed. Everything looks and smells so new. It would make me want to play. Having fun in the snow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not any more. I walked outside tonight and realized that I have no one to play in the snow with. No one to take a walk with. Arms around each other. Hand in hand. Sneaking a kiss in the falling snow. I don't have that anymore. No one to share the snow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cyndi will get up tomorrow, go out and play with the kids. I will dream about being with them and having my son with us. All of us together playing in the snow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I hope to be a family again. Waking up together. Watching a beautiful sunrise. Going outside to play. All of this together. A family playing in the snow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day I will have fun in the snow again. Me and our family together in the snow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You Cyndi,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love. You Are My ONE...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-5504542552776747288?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/5504542552776747288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=5504542552776747288&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5504542552776747288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5504542552776747288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/snow.html' title='The Snow...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-6784133946744573174</id><published>2011-02-09T20:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T21:13:29.783-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Still there...'/><title type='text'>The Call pt.2</title><content type='html'>She called last night.  I knew it was coming.  She had called me yesterday morning to tell me it was coming.  Didn't matter that I knew what was going to happen.  Didn't matter that I knew it was all for the show.  As she said those words I heard her voice break.  She was fighting back tears.  I could tell in her voice, I could feel it in my heart.  I told her what I was going to say and she broke even more.  That broke my heart.  I love her so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  So this morning rolled around and she contacted me as usual.  We talked all day and nothing had changed.  But everything had changed.  Her heart was broke and she was worried if I was going to stay.  I'm here forever Cyndi.  That was the promise we made to each other.  We will always be as one even if there is another trying to keep us apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  At the end of the day he had pissed her off as usual and I had made her laugh and smile as usual.  Now she goes home to him and I can't talk to my love until tomorrow.  I will talk to you tomorrow Cyndi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  You are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love...   You Are My ONE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I love you my Little Bunny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Tony....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-6784133946744573174?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/6784133946744573174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=6784133946744573174&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6784133946744573174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6784133946744573174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/call-pt2.html' title='The Call pt.2'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-8970066398663056881</id><published>2011-02-08T20:39:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T21:45:12.290-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='True love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>Fairy Tale: The Do Over....</title><content type='html'>He was 23 and had never believed in love at first site. She was 16 beautiful and the friend of a friend. When he first saw her his heart filled with joy. Before she said her first to him he was deeply and madly in love with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They spent two years together having good days and bad days. More good than bad. They went through a really tough medical problem and their love saw them through it. Then things changed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had made some friends that were taking time away from her. He started spending more time with them and less with her. So at some point she was told that he was dating one of these new friends. She was 17 so there was no convincing her that nothing had happened so she finally told him goodbye. It broke his heart to hear that word, but it was even worst on her. He was her everything. She was his everything but he did not see it yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months later he called her to ask her to meet him. He was going to beg her to come back and was so happy when she said she would meet with him. She never showed to that meeting and their lives would forever be changed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A car accident keep her from him and before they had a chance to see each other again she met the man that would take her hand in marriage. When he found out about the wedding he was devastated but he still loved her because she still had his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years later she called him. She was having some issues and had filed for a divorce. His heart filled with joy knowing that she had come back to him in her time of need. They dated a few times but then she vanished but he still loved her because she still had his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years after that, she called him. His heart filled with joy knowing that she had thought of him. He had gotten married and was living what she thought was a happy life. She didn't know that he was filling the void left by her in his heart. Then after a few weeks she vanished but he still loved her because she still had his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many years past this time without any words from her. He divorced his wife and moved back to his hometown. His heart still longed for her return but she was married and he was not going to get in the way. He still loved her because she still had his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she was there again. This time a simple email that said "Hi. How are you?" That was all it took. His heart filled with joy knowing that she was back in his life. She finally told him why she had vanished all of those times. Out of respect for him. It's been two months now and she is still here with him. She is still married but they are having some issues. He still loves her because she has his heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to him the other day and we talked about the last 25 years that he has longed for her return and he said he never gave up hope because he loved her and she had his heart. Then I asked him if she loved him any he said said yes. I asked how he knew and he said....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because she told me that she loved me because I always had her heart.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-8970066398663056881?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/8970066398663056881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=8970066398663056881&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8970066398663056881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8970066398663056881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/fairy-tale-do-over.html' title='Fairy Tale: The Do Over....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-7179533735872128841</id><published>2011-02-07T21:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T21:54:17.121-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waiting'/><title type='text'>The Call....</title><content type='html'>I'm sitting here for the first time hopeing not to get a call from Cyndi tonight.  Let me explain....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Cyndi is going to try to tell her husband that she is in love with me and I with her.  But her husband wants her to call me and tell me goodbye.  She has asked me not to answer when she calls.  Well if she calls that means that he has forced her into making it.  That means that he has talked her into staying.  If there is no call that means that she stood her ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Cyndi, I know you are strong and want us to be together.  I love you and no matter what happens I will never leave your side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  You are my heart, my soul, my life, and my love....   You are my ONE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  /:^)&lt;---(^;=&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-7179533735872128841?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/7179533735872128841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=7179533735872128841&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7179533735872128841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7179533735872128841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/call.html' title='The Call....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-7443253160386690902</id><published>2011-02-07T16:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T17:14:52.682-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='choices'/><title type='text'>Yes or No....</title><content type='html'>Will she or won't she. Cyndi found out that her husband has not only been spying on her but has been reporting the findings to Cyndi's ex-friend. Was Cyndi pissed? Oh Yea!!! After a few choice words with her ex-friend she hung up and called her husband. "I Can't Do This Anymore"&lt;br /&gt;And after a few choice words with him she hung up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He called her begging and talking about hurting himself. She is now worried about him. I remember when Kiki said she was leaving. I begged, threatened to hurt myself, tried to make deals, and got mad too. All people go through these steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said she has a lot to tell him about why she came to this decision. She said she is going to tell him almost everything including how we feel about each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope she can go through with this. I think he is not a good match for her anymore. She is missing something that he can't give her. I can. She has said so. I hope that she can go through with this so she can free herself from oppression.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think she can....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be Strong my little bunny...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my heart, my soul, my life, and my love. You are my ONE...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you Cyndi and I will never leave you.  Ever......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-7443253160386690902?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/7443253160386690902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=7443253160386690902&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7443253160386690902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7443253160386690902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/yes-or-no.html' title='Yes or No....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-2988270083932335069</id><published>2011-02-06T11:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T11:26:20.317-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Saying Hi To All My New Readers....</title><content type='html'>Last night we picked up a few new readers. The most interesting of those would be the one who logged in at 3:49am. I always enjoy new readers and I have nothing to hide as you can read from my post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do I do about my latest readers. Nothing. I can't help how I feel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cyndi, I do believe everything you have said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You my little Angel...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-2988270083932335069?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/2988270083932335069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=2988270083932335069&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/2988270083932335069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/2988270083932335069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/saying-hi-to-all-my-new-readers.html' title='Saying Hi To All My New Readers....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-984153269723966583</id><published>2011-02-06T00:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-06T01:18:41.866-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Caught'/><title type='text'>A Test of Love...</title><content type='html'>Tonight my relationship with Cyndi took a big turn.  I was going to see her for a few minutes and she really wanted to see me.  We love each other so much that it hurts when we are not seeing each other or talking on the phone.  We need each other...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  The Big Turn....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  As I was driving to see Cyndi tonight, she called me on her phone.  Her husband was at work pulling his 24 hour shift so we were safe to see each other for a few minutes.  well that's what we thought.  When I was about 3 miles from that house she said her friends that live next door to them had come home early from a trip.  Well we decided that I would just stop at the end of her driveway and she would run out to see me real quick. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  As I was turning onto her street she said her husband was calling so something must be wrong.  What was wrong was that someone at her house had picked up the phone and was eavesdropping on our call.  They then hung up and call her husband to tell him everything we had said.  Needless to say, Shit has hit the fan.  She texted me to say not to contact her in anyway until I hear from her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Cyndi and I have said that nothing would ever tear us apart.  We are meant to be together and she said she will always be there.  We will always be...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  He is going to put a lot of pressure on her.  I don't think he will leave her but he is going to lay down he law about contacting me.  That has happened before and she continued to see me and that's why I know that she will be back soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Cyndi.  You are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.  You are my ONE....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I Love You...  Forever and Always....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-984153269723966583?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/984153269723966583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=984153269723966583&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/984153269723966583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/984153269723966583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/test-of-love.html' title='A Test of Love...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-5272493155051579053</id><published>2011-02-05T18:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T18:32:47.200-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='great days'/><title type='text'>She "IS" The One....</title><content type='html'>I have had a great day so far.  I have been able to talk to my lady all day and now she wants to see me tonight.  I love this girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Cyndi is my One...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  More to follow.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-5272493155051579053?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/5272493155051579053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=5272493155051579053&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5272493155051579053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5272493155051579053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/she-is-one.html' title='She &quot;IS&quot; The One....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-5735805480718095985</id><published>2011-02-05T02:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T02:59:03.013-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='True love'/><title type='text'>My Time...</title><content type='html'>Tonight I heard a song that just made me break down.  Tears of joy.  Never heard it before but I said some of those same things to her a while back.  Don't know why.  It made me think of her....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You my Angel....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-5735805480718095985?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/5735805480718095985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=5735805480718095985&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5735805480718095985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5735805480718095985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-time.html' title='My Time...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-943056780356012343</id><published>2011-02-03T19:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T19:57:53.190-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sorry'/><title type='text'>Cyndi, Please Don't Read This Post...</title><content type='html'>The power of words.  Who knew...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Tonight I spent a few hours talking to Cyndi.  We worked out a lot of the issues that came up today and nip some that might have come up in the future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Then I told her that I didn't mean to make her feel pressured.  That's when it started.  She started talking about some of the things she were having problems with and I asked if she wanted me to keep fighting for her.  She said yes....  (smile)  Then she said something while trying to hide her tears.  Four Simple words.  Nothing more.  I had said them to her hoping that she would be touched to the point of sharing her life with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  "COME HOME TO ME" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I was told that the first time I said this to her, she spent 4 hours crying.  She never said anything because she didn't want me to stop the fight.  So each time I said it she held back the tears until she was alone.  Crying in the dark because of my 4 words.  I wish I had known before it festered into what happened today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Cyndi, I am so sorry for this.  I promise to make it up to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Cyndi is my Light, my Heart, my Hope, and my Love.  You are my ONE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Tony&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  P.S.  Cyndi, your not suppose to be reading this.   ;^)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-943056780356012343?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/943056780356012343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=943056780356012343&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/943056780356012343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/943056780356012343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/cyndi-please-dont-read-this-post.html' title='Cyndi, Please Don&apos;t Read This Post...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-8064428469894842425</id><published>2011-02-03T15:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T15:42:10.185-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='True love'/><title type='text'>When Love Is The Strongest....</title><content type='html'>I am so in love with this girl.  Thought she was leaving me today and it scared the hell out of me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  The day started perfect as always.  Cyndi sent me a text that said I Love You.  How more perfect could it have been.  After about 30 minutes I said something that just sent the rest of my morning to hell.  It hurt the one I love and drove her over the edge.  She said she doesn't want to hurt me anymore.  The only problem with that is that what I had said was not meant to be anything but a simple question.  Things got out of hang after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I was so looking forward to having lunch with Cyndi today but the boss came to town so she felt like she should stay in the office for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Sorry.  Anyway, after many back and forth text were sent, I did the stupidest thing of all.  I told her I was going to come up and I hoped that she would come out to see me for a minute.  She said don't but I needed to see her.  To make her see how much I love her.  Well to make a long story short (to late) (haha) I got there and called her to tell her I would wait for five minutes "Please come out".  Three voice mails, three text and nothing.  After five minutes I called and told her that I really would have loved to have her come out, but I understood and that I would always love her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I drove to the end of the street before she text and said she had been away from her desk and just got my messages.  She said she understood that I had said goodbye and that was it.  I told her that I was turning around and I would see her in a minute, but she said she would not see me.  I had made my choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  After many minutes of begging she agreed to see me for a minute.  She came out and I held her hand and told her what she meant to me.  She is my light. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  She's talking to me again and I hope that someday she will know how much she means to me.  I say the words but that doesn't even start to come close to explaining how much I love her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I don't get to see her everyday and when I do it's only for lunch or a 5 minute visit, but those few minutes make my whole day.  Knowing that I will see her and that she so much wants to see me, makes the wait for her well worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I love you Cyndi.  Mrs. Williamson.  I know you love me and love see me and I feel the same so lets make this work until we can be together forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I hope to at least have lunch for my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I love you, need you, and want you forever.  You are my Heart, my Light, my Love, and my Life.  You are my ONE.   I Promise....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love You,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-8064428469894842425?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/8064428469894842425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=8064428469894842425&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8064428469894842425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8064428469894842425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/when-love-is-strongest.html' title='When Love Is The Strongest....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-232902522359018908</id><published>2011-02-02T22:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T23:05:18.305-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fairy Tales'/><title type='text'>Fairy Tale  Pt. 1</title><content type='html'>A long time ago in the small village of Lilburn, there lived a beautiful princess that went by the name of Lady Cyndi.  Lady Cyndi was the most beautiful in all the land,and although she had this beauty, charm, and was so smart, she was missing the one thing that all princesses need.  True love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  At 16 years of age a stable boy named Anthony started working at the palace tending to the needs of the King and Queen.  When Anthony and Lady Cyndi first set eyes on each other they knew that they were meant to spend their lives together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  The King and Queen thought Anthony worthy of their daughters love and gave their blessing to the union.  So Anthony and Lady Cyndi spent all of there time together from sun up to late into the evening.  They knew that they were meant to be together forever so Anthony went to the King to ask for Lady Cyndi's hand in marriage.  The King gave his blessing and on the following eve Anthony got down on one knee and ask Lady Cyndi to be his bride.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-232902522359018908?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/232902522359018908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=232902522359018908&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/232902522359018908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/232902522359018908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/fairy-tale-pt-1.html' title='Fairy Tale  Pt. 1'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-4009245932296162006</id><published>2011-02-01T23:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T00:07:26.651-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mixed emotions'/><title type='text'>What the F------</title><content type='html'>Ever have one of those days that make you say what the hell did I do for this.  Well today was one of those days. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Today started out great.  Cyndi called and started my day by saying "I Love You".  Can't Beat that for a wake up.  Well at least I can't beat that for now.   So my day started on a high note.  I was going to meet her for lunch.  Getting to see her is so special.  I love to look into her eyes and seeing my future.  We talked all morning and made our plans.  Then everything went to hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Her husband called and told here to stay put because he was coming up there for only the third time since she started working there.  Damn.  I was really LOOKING forward to see her.  wink, wink.  Well my surgery will go off without a hitch.  WRONG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Mr. W, you have Pyo genic Granuloma.  I form of skin cancer.  Can't someone please just stomp on my puppy.  That's the only thing left.  Had to decide if I was going to tell Cyndi.  She just found out Sat. that her mom has cancer.  I better tell her or she will kick my ass. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Well things started looking up when I called Cyndi after the doctor's and she wanted me to come by.  I got to see her for 10 minutes, the best therapy I could have had, and she did what she does best.  Took my hand, kissed me, and let me know how much she was in love with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  We talked on the phone the rest of the day and texted while she was on her way home.  we talked on the phone until I had to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I can't wait until tomorrow when I get to talk to my love again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Cyndi,  I love you.  You are My Heart, My Light, My Love, and My ONE....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Until tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-4009245932296162006?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/4009245932296162006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=4009245932296162006&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/4009245932296162006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/4009245932296162006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/what-f.html' title='What the F------'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-6191895470298935906</id><published>2011-02-01T11:46:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T12:06:41.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love...</title><content type='html'>I love the way you make feel, with hope for the future...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I love the way you look at me.   Softly, reminding me that your love for me is still strong...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I love the way you touch me.  Lightly tracing my fingers with your, running your fingers through my hair...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I love the way you kiss me.  Gently at first then with so much passion. So much warmth.  So much love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I love the way you love me.  Hopeful, Softly, Lightly, Gently, Passionately, and with so much heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I love YOU.  Beauty beyond compare.  Passion beyond Control.  Love beyond boundaries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I LOVE YOU CYNDI....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I LOVE YOU....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-6191895470298935906?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/6191895470298935906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=6191895470298935906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6191895470298935906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6191895470298935906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-love.html' title='I Love...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-8778322210208452041</id><published>2011-02-01T07:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T08:04:36.014-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Messages to love ones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='True love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Loving.'/><title type='text'>TIME.......  Part 1</title><content type='html'>We spent 2 years together.  23 years ago.  We had so much fun together.  We shared so much of each other.  We were in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Then it happened.  In one moment in time we decided it was over.  Someone told you there was someone else in my life and it hurt you to the core.  There wasn't but I had no proof.  So in a moments time you were gone.  I tried to convince you to come back but the hurt was to deep so I let you go.  I let you go so you could find happiness, a happiness that we once shared.   You found it.  If not forever, at least for many years.  You had 2 beautiful kids and a very comfortable life.  He gave you everything you needed to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I spent the next 20+ years bouncing from one relationship to another hoping to find what I had with you.  I met some nice ladies and had some wonderful times and I met some truly insane women that a felt lucky to survive.  However, I never found what I had with you.  I even got married and had my son.  I loved Kiki but it still wasn't the same.  It still wasn't you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Every few years you would write to see how things were going in my life and I would tell you things like "everything is great, wonderful".  You were still married and seem to be happy so I was not going to get in the way of your happiness.  We talked about us from time to time and even went out once when your were having a problem.  But the timing was never right for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  December 27, 2010.  The message read:  " Hi. How have you been?".  My heart skipped a beat.  Something was different when said it this time.  Something was wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  We talked for a few days through text and email.  You told me that things were ok at home but could be better.  Then it happened.  On New Years Eve I asked if you could stop by for a second to meet my son and you showed up.  When our eyes met again it was like the last 20+ years had faded away.  We talked for a while and then it happened.  I reached out and kissed you.  You didn't pull away but you acted surprised.  After that you needed to go.  Didn't want E to get mad.  So you left.  But not for long...   Three days later we met again.  This time we did some shopping and then I dropped you off at your car.  You came by later that day and this time when we kissed you made sure I knew that it was something you wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I gave you your last kiss of 2010 and your first kiss of 2011.  I say we make that a family tradition.  We have admitted that we still love each other an that we want to spend the rest of our lives in each others arms. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  So where did the last 20 years go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  What 20 years....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Cyndi.  You are My Heart, My Muse, My Love, and My One....&lt;br /&gt;I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-8778322210208452041?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/8778322210208452041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=8778322210208452041&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8778322210208452041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8778322210208452041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/02/time-part-1.html' title='TIME.......  Part 1'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-7262897143277209271</id><published>2011-01-31T21:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T21:48:11.709-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Close Call....'/><title type='text'>Ouch.....</title><content type='html'>Wow.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Enough said.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Close......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I Love You.....   :^*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-7262897143277209271?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/7262897143277209271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=7262897143277209271&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7262897143277209271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7262897143277209271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/01/ouch.html' title='Ouch.....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-3840062830730618343</id><published>2011-01-31T18:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T19:43:52.539-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Smile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='True love'/><title type='text'>Smiling.....</title><content type='html'>I had lunch with Cyndi today.  Chili's.  we sat down at the table and I reached across and took her hand.  Held it until they brought our food.  I felt so alive just knowing she was with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  We had some laughs and talked about her mom.  I must have told her I loved her a hundred times.  I hope she doesn't get tired of hearing that.  I love to tell her and want to yell it from the highest mountains.  I want the world to know it.  She was so beautiful setting there.  she smiled at me the whole time.  Made me tell her things that I would have never told anyone else.  She has a way to make me talk....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Our lunch ended and I walked her to her car.  Kissed her and told her I loved her again.  (just in case she had forgot)  Told her the ending to a story I had started early in the day.  She smiled and then we parted.  I missed her as soon as she drove away and then started that long drive back to the house to wait to talk to her again.  We talk a lot while she works.  We most likely talk more each day than she talks to her husband.  Sorry dude but her heart belongs to me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I will write more tomorrow as things have turned around for the Dread Pirate.  Happy days are here again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I Love You Cyndi.  You are my Heart, My Light, My Muse, and My ONE....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Until tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-3840062830730618343?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/3840062830730618343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=3840062830730618343&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/3840062830730618343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/3840062830730618343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/01/smiling.html' title='Smiling.....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-7246269961533898921</id><published>2011-01-30T07:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T08:01:26.932-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='True love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Loving.'/><title type='text'>Not Much....</title><content type='html'>Not much to say this morning.  It was a long night for many different reasons. so I will make this short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Mrs. S.  I love you mom and I am praying for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Cyndi.  I Love You.  I Miss You.  I Want You.  I Need You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  You are My Heart, My Light, and My Muse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Until we talk again,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-7246269961533898921?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/7246269961533898921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=7246269961533898921&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7246269961533898921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7246269961533898921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/01/not-much.html' title='Not Much....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-6680343611205815453</id><published>2011-01-29T21:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T22:07:29.511-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scared'/><title type='text'>CANCER!!!!!</title><content type='html'>I just found out that Cyndi's mom has cancer. I love this lady. She was like a mom to me. She took me in when I was kicked out of my house. She treated me like her own son. I need to talk to her. But I can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to hold Cyndi right now. She needs me. She knows that I will be there for her. She knows that I will be there to give her the support she so badly needs at this moment. I need to be there for her. I need her to be here for me. We need to hold each other and not let go. I need to talk to her. But I can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to her this afternoon and I had told her that we needed to be together because we don't know how long we have. This was just a few hours before we knew anything about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I do. I can't call her. I can't talk to her mom. They both need support from the people that love them. Her mom doesn't even know I still feel this way about her. Mrs. S, I'm here for you. Even if I can't be there with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cyndi. I love you so much and I don't want to wake up one day and find that something has happen to you without me being there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cyndi, Mrs. S, I love you both. I wish I could be there for both of you, and I need both of you so much right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-6680343611205815453?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/6680343611205815453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=6680343611205815453&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6680343611205815453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6680343611205815453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/01/cancer.html' title='CANCER!!!!!'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-389525006726453593</id><published>2011-01-29T18:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T19:13:18.461-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sorrow'/><title type='text'>Worried....</title><content type='html'>I was told today that the woman who scared me the second most in my life, (Cyndi's Mom) long story, had a biopsy. done and the doctor wants to talk to her about the results.  I am praying with all my heart that she is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;.  I haven't seen her in many years but I'm holding out hope to see her soon.  She is a strong woman and so kind.  Please Mrs. S.  Please be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I also pray for Cyndi.  She had some medical issues awhile back and got no support from the one person that should have been most concerned.  He wasn't there for her in her time of need and most likely won't be there for her Mom.  Cyndi, I'm right here for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I pray for K and M. (Cyndi's kid's)  Her mom and dad are very hands on with the kids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Cyndi I love you and I'm here to support you no matter what.  I have always been here and will always be here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Cyndi, I miss you and I'm here for you, K, and M.  But most of all I'm here for your mom.  I only wish you could tell her they I am thinking and praying for all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I love you, Come back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-389525006726453593?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/389525006726453593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=389525006726453593&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/389525006726453593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/389525006726453593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/01/worried.html' title='Worried....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-6449003357346106614</id><published>2011-01-29T09:15:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T09:36:18.212-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Smile'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Happiness'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='True love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mixed emotions'/><title type='text'>A weird kind of happiness...</title><content type='html'>She picked me.  She's couldn't pick me.  Confused yet? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  She chose to stay with her husband.  She wants to be with me.  She has told me this.  I have seen it in her eyes  Heard it in her voice....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  She is staying for her daughters sake.  She is afraid of the mental strain a divorce may have on a very beautiful little 9 year old girl.  Told her that if she's not happy then her daughter will feel that, know matter how hard she attempts  to hide it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  So why am I happy about all of this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  When asked if kids were not involved what choice would she had made.... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  She Chose Me!!!!  I am the one she wants to be with.  I'm the one she wants to wake up to each morning, Lay down with at the end of the day, Have my arms wrapped around her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  She Chose Me!!!  To give me her love and mine to her for all time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I know we will be together.  she is my light, my heart, my love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  She has a fear of something that she is not ready to talk about.  I will wait.  As long as we have each other I Will wait.  We have each other and that's what's important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I Love You Cyndi,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Until tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-6449003357346106614?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/6449003357346106614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=6449003357346106614&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6449003357346106614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6449003357346106614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/01/weird-kind-of-happiness.html' title='A weird kind of happiness...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-7320794874868594195</id><published>2011-01-27T06:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T06:28:20.525-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='True love'/><title type='text'>Decisons</title><content type='html'>Last night two people, one I love dearly the other I have never met, sat down together to make a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;decision&lt;/span&gt; that effected three peoples lives.  At the time I don't know what that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;decision&lt;/span&gt; was.  I will most likely know before I finish writing this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  One &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;decision&lt;/span&gt;, three lives.  I know what I hope she &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;decided&lt;/span&gt;.  I think I know what she &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;decided&lt;/span&gt;.  They are not the same.  He has 20 years with her.  I have 25 off and on.  The rest will have to wait....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-7320794874868594195?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/7320794874868594195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=7320794874868594195&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7320794874868594195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7320794874868594195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/01/decisons.html' title='Decisons'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-7519830726439174455</id><published>2011-01-24T11:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T11:46:15.538-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sorrow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lost Love'/><title type='text'>A Poem For Cyndi....</title><content type='html'>I said that I loved you.  You believed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that I needed you.  You believed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said that I wanted to spend my life with you.  You believed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said I would wait for you.  You believed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You said that you loved me.  I believed you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You said that you needed me.  I believed you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You said that you wanted to spend your life with me.  I believed you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You said you would wait for me.  I believed you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did it all go wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why Can't you believe me anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did the trust go?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still believe in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please still believe in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still Need you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still want to spend my life with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still will wait for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you still believe me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do still believe you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do still believe in US.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You Cyndi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yours always,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-7519830726439174455?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/7519830726439174455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=7519830726439174455&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7519830726439174455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7519830726439174455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/01/poem-for-cyndi.html' title='A Poem For Cyndi....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-8548197841167288388</id><published>2011-01-23T15:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T16:01:57.690-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sorrow'/><title type='text'>Lost...</title><content type='html'>I lost you just when I found you.  I understand.  He has everything to offer you.  I have only my heart, my love.  He had you first.  20 years.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; a long time for anyone.  I will not bother you anymore.  You know how to reach me if you need me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Your happiness is whats most important to me and that seems to be him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I will never let go of you in my heart.  I will only leave if you ask.  I am here for you forever my love.  I wish I knew how to make you love me like you love him.  There is a reason you left me all those years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I hope that someday you will call and tell me that you chose me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I will love you forever Cyndi. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Tony...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-8548197841167288388?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/8548197841167288388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=8548197841167288388&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8548197841167288388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8548197841167288388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/01/lost.html' title='Lost...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-7448480093619392879</id><published>2011-01-23T06:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-23T06:30:09.966-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Messages to love ones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='True love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Missing you'/><title type='text'>The Wait...</title><content type='html'>I have waited my whole life for you.  Not knowing if you would ever return to me.  Praying for a miracle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Then it happened.  A message.  A chance.  A dream.  You simply said "hello".  Enough. Done.  You always were able to do that to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Your married. I'm not.  You're scared.  Me too.  You say "hang on, don't leave".  I couldn't if I tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  You say "I love you".  I Love You Too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I hope we get the chance to spend our lives together.  I will wait for you until the end of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I Love You, I Miss You, I Need You With Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-7448480093619392879?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/7448480093619392879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=7448480093619392879&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7448480093619392879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7448480093619392879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/01/wait.html' title='The Wait...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-4954308901212083993</id><published>2011-01-09T09:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-09T10:21:27.904-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Soulmates'/><title type='text'>Soulmates.....</title><content type='html'>In the last year a lot has changed.  I've met new friends and reconnected with some old ones.  K is having some issues with depression.  I really wish I could help her.  I still think about her all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Anyway.  If you have followed my older post then you remember me talking about M.  She was an old girlfriend that I reconnected with after my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;divorce&lt;/span&gt;  and we have seen each other for the last year and a half.  Well about a week before the holidays an old friend emailed me to see how I was doing.  Ok, you know how in your past you have met someone that when you first saw them you knew that was the one person you were meant to be with?  Well this was that "ONE". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  We dated many years ago but things just didn't work out betweeen us.  I finally got her to agree to meet with me a few months later, but on the day she was to meet me, she had a car wreck.  Nothing bad but one of the witnesses went on to marry her and they have been married for the last 20 years.  Bad Luck?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I asked M where she saw our relationship going.  She said it is just the way she wants it and nothing more.  I want a more long term relationship but she just wants the old boyfriend/girlfriend thing.  Hell, I have never met her friends.  So we want different things in our future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  So what to do.  M wants nothing more than what we have and C wants me to wait for her while she desides what shes wants.  She is having some marrage issues and has said she wants to spend time with me.  She said she feels the same as me but don't know what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  So do I Wait for C or stay with M?  Tell me your thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until we talk again,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-4954308901212083993?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/4954308901212083993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=4954308901212083993&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/4954308901212083993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/4954308901212083993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2011/01/soulmates.html' title='Soulmates.....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-3299936315376347127</id><published>2010-01-05T22:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T22:23:09.810-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Holidays'/><title type='text'>Happy Holidays... "NOT"</title><content type='html'>All I can say is thank God the season is over.  Yes, I did have my son for almost a week, but it wasn't the same without K there.  She was kind of the glue that held our Christmas together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Then Sunday was the Birds 7th birthday.  I drove up to the old house but with K's new boyfriend there I kind of felt like an outsider.  Does that make any since?  My old girlfriend M is still in the picture but K is still missed greatly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be writing more shortly,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-3299936315376347127?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/3299936315376347127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=3299936315376347127&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/3299936315376347127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/3299936315376347127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-holidays-not.html' title='Happy Holidays... &quot;NOT&quot;'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-2645897700530549837</id><published>2009-10-03T21:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T21:17:47.354-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Goodbye'/><title type='text'>Giving up....</title><content type='html'>I am giving up.  One month ago my divorce became legal.  I can't live without my son, without her.  I cry myself to sleep each night and I'm just tired of it.  God I love her so much.  I miss both of them more than they will ever know.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-2645897700530549837?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/2645897700530549837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=2645897700530549837&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/2645897700530549837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/2645897700530549837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/10/giving-up.html' title='Giving up....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-8226133485393900064</id><published>2009-07-14T17:25:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T17:30:41.918-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Rough Day...</title><content type='html'>I wrote a post today then deleted it because I had posted out of anger.  When someone tells you to stop stalking someone and you didn't even know you were stalking them, It will kind of piss you off....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To the person I am told I am stalking.&lt;br /&gt;Even though I haven't seen or talked to you in over a week, you don't have to worry anymore because these are the last word you will ever read or hear from me.  Have a great life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-8226133485393900064?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/8226133485393900064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=8226133485393900064&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8226133485393900064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8226133485393900064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/07/rough-day.html' title='A Rough Day...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-8195511483957744962</id><published>2009-07-08T00:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T02:41:04.388-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Regret'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death of Love'/><title type='text'>I'm Sorry...</title><content type='html'>Last night I sat up until 5am in the dark trying to figure out what went wrong between K and I. How could it have just ended after being together for 12 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 4:30am it hit me. I thought that I had finally figured this whole thing out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, about 5 years ago K told me that she needed to talk to me. The scariest 4 words you will ever hear. So we started to talk and she told me that she felt bad because she could not love me the way that I loved her. I heard this and then told her that it was going to be OK because I loved her enough for both of us. Life went on as normal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 3 years ago K told me this same thing as before. I again told her that I had enough love for both of us. Life went on again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About a week before she told me she wanted this divorce, she told me the same thing again. I told her the same as before but this time she said that was not enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this time I was hearing K but I never understood what she was saying. Last night as I sat there in the dark, I finally understood her. All of this time my heart was filled with so much love, but her heart was an empty shell. She needed to feel the love that for so long I had felt for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. I am truly sorry for not understanding what you were trying to tell me. Please forgive me for this and understand that because of you I am a better man. I do hope that some day you will feel for someone the love that I have felt for you for over a quarter of our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-8195511483957744962?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/8195511483957744962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=8195511483957744962&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8195511483957744962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8195511483957744962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-sorry.html' title='I&apos;m Sorry...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-7754193041115904708</id><published>2009-07-01T22:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T22:43:45.037-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Divorce'/><title type='text'>Sorry for the delay....</title><content type='html'>On Tuesday, we filed our divorce paperwork and I'm still trying to take in how 12 years together can end at a courthouse in just 3 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memories Vol. 2 is coming soon.&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See you in a few days,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-7754193041115904708?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/7754193041115904708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=7754193041115904708&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7754193041115904708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7754193041115904708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/07/sorry-for-delay.html' title='Sorry for the delay....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-7070684261007650552</id><published>2009-06-29T21:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T22:02:11.179-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Questions'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Information'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wedding Vows'/><title type='text'>Breaking the Vows..</title><content type='html'>There has been a lot of talk lately between K, Myself, and friends about when you are free to love another. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, K and I basically have they same view on this subject.  I believe that when two people say their vows, they are not only saying these vows to each other, they are saying these vows to his or her god, goddess, or whatever being they pray too.  So the question is, when does a marriage end?  Three days after K asked me for a divorce, we took each others hands and said we were releasing each other from our vows.  In my eye's our marriage ended at that moment.  K feels the same way.  My friends have a different view on this subject.  Most believe that until the courts say that the marriage over you must still live by your vows.  So does God or Goddess accept your vows when you first say them, but then wait until a judge rubber stamps the divorce papers, or does the All Mighty release you from those vows as soon as the two parties release each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to hear a bunch of opinions on this subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for all of your support...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  Yesterday as was told that I had won the Post of the Day.  What is that and where do you find out that information.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-7070684261007650552?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/7070684261007650552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=7070684261007650552&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7070684261007650552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7070684261007650552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/breaking-vows.html' title='Breaking the Vows..'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-4846910706247704727</id><published>2009-06-27T20:36:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T21:14:01.629-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories  Vol. 1</title><content type='html'>It's funny how a smell or a song or even a place can bring back memories, both good and bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I went someplace that I had not been in 20 years. Near my house is a large lake and at this lake is a small beach. About 20 years ago I took a very special person to this small beach. It was late at night and we were the only two there. On that night I kissed M for the first time, on this beach under the moonlight. I felt the same way about her then as I do about K now. Today I took M and her son back to this beach and while they played in the water I just sat on a rock looking out into the vastness of the lake. Every now and then I would catch M looking at me from the water. While sitting there a flood of memories came rushing back to me. I saw the place where M and I had or first kiss and then I started thinking, "I wonder if trees have memories. If they do, do they remember us on this beach so long ago." After about 2 hours they got out of the water and we headed back to her apartment. She is cooking dinner now and later the 3 of us will watch some movies together. I still love K with all of my heart, but M has helped take some of the edge off of the pain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-4846910706247704727?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/4846910706247704727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=4846910706247704727&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/4846910706247704727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/4846910706247704727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/memories-vol-1.html' title='Memories  Vol. 1'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-1118650478766219761</id><published>2009-06-26T20:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T21:24:30.284-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Future'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Divorce'/><title type='text'>The Government...</title><content type='html'>This morning K left the house to take care of a few things that needed to be done. Food... She went shopping at her favorite place. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Publix&lt;/span&gt;. But she also went to our county courthouse to get the forms we needed to start the end of our marriage. The nice lady who gave her the trilogy of paper work told her "Don't worry, most of those 1000 pages are just instructions". Can you say &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Bullsh&lt;/span&gt;__! K spent 5 hours filling out paperwork. They wanted to know about everything that we ever had or did or ever thought of doing. I did help by staying out of her way. :^) Just kidding. I sat there and when she had a question that we needed to answer together I told her "what ever". We found out that in this state child support is based on a scale kind of like the tax charts we all use. So if someone made $3000 gross a month and their spouse made nothing then got the children, the money winner then would owe about $850 per child per month. Ouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway we got everything &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;basically&lt;/span&gt; done and on Monday we will go to the courthouse, spend money we don't have to spare, visit 30 different departments, then wait 30 days for a judge to say &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, have a great life, goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I ended my marriage and watched my soon to be ex-wife's head spin completely around 6 times before exploding. Wow, what a fun day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, got to run. My ex-girlfriend is calling me to the table...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. You will always be my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all you will always be my friend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.   M. Thanks for all the help you gave me that has helped me look past this painful time of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.S.  Thanks to all of my Blog comment posters. You all said the right things at the right time that helped keep me going even in my darkest hours. I love you all....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-1118650478766219761?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/1118650478766219761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=1118650478766219761&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/1118650478766219761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/1118650478766219761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/government.html' title='The Government...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-4599275982154716475</id><published>2009-06-24T22:57:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T23:36:34.131-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starting over'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving on'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='letting go'/><title type='text'>Strange Friends...</title><content type='html'>On Monday afternoon I asked my soon to be ex-wife to email a special friend of hers and tell him that I wanted him to call me. She looked puzzled and asked why. I told her that only wanted to talk to the person and that I would be nice. Later that evening he called and we started talking about life, love, and other things that most of us are afraid to talk about with complete strangers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife and I have been having some issues for a while now and he just happened to be at the wrong place at the right time. Because of the relationship between my wife and this other man I found it very easy to blame him for our problems with my marriage. He was not here and could not defend himself so I vented a lot of anger at this man even though he had done nothing wrong. First I want to say how sorry I am for this. You did nothing wrong but my pain over my divorce turned into anger and I vented that anger towards you. K, took most of this anger head-on in your place. For this I want to say I sorry K. You did not deserve any of the anger that was directed towards you. I ask both of you to please forgive me for being an ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish the best for both of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. I know that we will see each other for the rest of our life's. A child makes that necessary. But I hope that we can get passed the hurt and become friends again. I need you in my life in some form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my new friend. Thanks for the call and thanks for helping to ease my mind about some issues I had. Know matter what happens between you and K, I hope that you will think of me as a friend and that we can put behind us some of that angry things that was said by me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking to the future,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-4599275982154716475?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/4599275982154716475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=4599275982154716475&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/4599275982154716475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/4599275982154716475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/strange-friends.html' title='Strange Friends...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-2141693251825881036</id><published>2009-06-22T21:57:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T22:02:20.082-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='True love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Broken Hearts'/><title type='text'>I Release you,  A Repost for a friend...</title><content type='html'>This is a repost of the first poem I wrote.  This was posted about a month ago.  This is for you, my new friend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-release-you.html"&gt;I Release You...&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...To find the happiness that I have known since the day I met you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...To find the love that rebuilds your.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...To soar like the beautiful bird that is your soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...To find that one thing that you couldn't find with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...Because it's the right thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...From the pain of the last 8 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...From those vows we spoke when we were so much in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...In hopes that you will find your way back to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...But you will always be My Wittle Bunny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...Because I Love You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...Because I Love You...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. I release you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-2141693251825881036?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/2141693251825881036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=2141693251825881036&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/2141693251825881036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/2141693251825881036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-release-you-repost-for-friend.html' title='I Release you,  A Repost for a friend...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-2130946092445680000</id><published>2009-06-22T02:57:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T03:42:54.367-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Scca'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death of Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death'/><title type='text'>Tom...</title><content type='html'>For those of you who don't know me, I am a racing Corner Marshal. When things go really bad at a race track we are the ones who you see running across the race track while cars are still going real fast. No not NASCAR. Road Racing. We are the ones that go to the accident help the drivers and clean up any mess that they have left on our track. Sometimes that means standing in the middle of a race track while cars go by you on ether side at well over 100 mph. Sometimes closer to 200.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the driver depend on us for help, BTW we also show the flags that let the drivers know whats going on around the track, drivers and marshals can get very close. The racing family in general are a very tight group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well today I found out that a driver that I have known for a few years was killed Saturday morning in a racing accident at Road America. I can't remember the first time I met Tom Thrash. I'm sure it was when we were pulling him from a gravel trap or his car had a problem and pulled off rack at my station. But over the last few years I had run into Tom in the paddock or at my station a few more times. He always had time to say Hi or thanks for all the hard work. (we stand out there for hours in the hottest of summers and the coldest of winters for free)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom, if I drank I would have a tall one for you. You were truly a gentleman driver in every since of the word. Here's to you Tom. You will be morned by many and missed by many more...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RIP...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because life is so fragile here is a few messages for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To K:&lt;br /&gt;I will love you for all times. Even if you can't love me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To B: (my son)&lt;br /&gt;I will also love you for all times. You will always be my heart...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To All the readers of this post.&lt;br /&gt;I love you all. Through all the pain. You guy's have never gave up on me. You have helped me more that you will ever know. Thank You All...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, you are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love,&lt;br /&gt;But most of all you are my friend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-2130946092445680000?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/2130946092445680000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=2130946092445680000&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/2130946092445680000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/2130946092445680000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/bob.html' title='Tom...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-8427368314848787621</id><published>2009-06-20T02:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T02:50:52.514-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Divorce'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death of Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death'/><title type='text'>Please Lord Take Me Now...</title><content type='html'>I'm ready for this life to be over....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-8427368314848787621?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/8427368314848787621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=8427368314848787621&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8427368314848787621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8427368314848787621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/please-lord-take-me-now.html' title='Please Lord Take Me Now...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-394301760380034984</id><published>2009-06-13T15:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T16:13:52.992-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Goodbye'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hurt'/><title type='text'>The Hardest Part...</title><content type='html'>How do you say goodbye when your heart won't let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why is it when you lose someone close to you people always say, "You will get over it", or "The Pain will go away".  Trust me, you don't and it doesn't.  I lost Gina to a drunk driver in 1988.  A day doesn't go by where I don't think about her.  I lost my sister to Cancer in 2006.  I think about her all of the time.  And now there is K.  I lost her last month and all I can do is think about her.  I see her in my dreams and in my nightmares.  I hear her voice when she is not even here.  I smell her scent when she is a thousand miles away.  And each time these things happen the hurt is that much stronger.  The pain is that more intense.  It's hard to say goodbye when someone that holds that much of your heart passes, be it in body or spirit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So how do you say goodbye when your heart won't let go?&lt;br /&gt;You don't.  You say I Love You because they will always be right there with you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gina,&lt;br /&gt;I love you and I miss you so much.  Thank you for always being there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vickie,&lt;br /&gt;I love you and I miss you so much.  Thank you for being my big sister and always helping me through the tough times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K,&lt;br /&gt;I love you and I miss you so much.  Thank you for all the beautiful moments you gave me.  From the first time you said yes to a date with me, the day you said "I Do", and the day our son was born.  To the last time you said you loved me and gave me a last kiss.  Thank you for those and the million other smiles in between.  I only hope that one day I can look pass the pain and focus on the good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, you are my Heart, my Soul, my Life and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all, you are my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will love you for all times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-394301760380034984?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/394301760380034984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=394301760380034984&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/394301760380034984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/394301760380034984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/hardest-part.html' title='The Hardest Part...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-8196936623421969353</id><published>2009-06-12T11:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T12:28:34.380-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Brave New World...</title><content type='html'>When K's mom comes over to the house now, it kind of puts me in a bind.  You see, for the last three weeks I have been living in the mother-in-law suite of the castle de crazy.  so when she comes over I have to find I place to sleep.  Well K and her mother have been planing a trip to Ohio from months now and anytime they go somewhere MIL comes down a day or two early so they can leave at oh God thirty in the morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That brings us to where I am right now.  Sitting in front of a computer in an old girlfriends apartment after a long night of talking and watching movies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The older readers will remember me talking about M.  I was so much in love with M about 20 years ago and then we had a very nasty break-up.  We parted ways and for the next 17 years we didn't talk.  Hell we didn't even know if the other was still alive.  But anyway,  just a few days after K told me she wanted a divorce M and I found each other on Classmate.com.  I had been looking for her for some time.  I really missed our friendship.  So last week she and I picked a very public place and we met for lunch.  Let me get back to the original idea behind this post.  You can read all of this in one of my more resent post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday while I was thinking about where I was going to sleep for a day or two, M asked if I wanted to come over and crash at her place.  I told her I would let her know and started to help K get ready for their trip.  Yesterday my MIL came to the house to get ready for a Friday escape.  So while taking a nap on the library floor, I realized that I had to find somewhere for the night.  It was about that time that M called and asked if I was still coming over for a visit.  I told her yes but it was about this same time that K and MIL said that they were going to leave in a few minutes.  So at this point I no longer needed a place to stay.  Within just a few minutes I kissed RA goodbye, told K and MIL that I loved them, and watched them drive away.  I had already told M that I would come over so I got a shower and called to let her know I was on my way.  She asked if I had eaten dinner and I offered to pick something up for us.  BTW the new KFC grilled chicken is good.  So we ate dinner, talked, worked on some of her projects, and watched movies until 4am.  She asked me if I still wanted to stay the night and being that it was already 4am I said yes.  I slept on the couch while she slept on her bed and her son slept in his bed.  Like one big happy family.  That was a joke.  It was nice to be somewhere without the stress that I have felt at home for the last few weeks.  It was nice to be able to get some quality sleep for a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's how I ended up sleeping in the apartment of my ex-girlfriend.  I could go into more juicy details, but there's just not any....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, you are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all you are my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-8196936623421969353?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/8196936623421969353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=8196936623421969353&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8196936623421969353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8196936623421969353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/brave-new-world.html' title='A Brave New World...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-6154765195692245102</id><published>2009-06-11T08:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T09:17:12.985-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hurt'/><title type='text'>Lets Hurt Even More...</title><content type='html'>A few days ago I wrote a post that my wife K took the wrong way. She commented on this post which you can read. After explaining what I meant in the post, I posted a personal apology to K and to anyone who saw that post and might have taken it the wrong way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday K and I were talking about different things and getting ready to go to the bank and take care of some of the divorce paperwork, when I said that before this new guy came to stay with our son I wanted to know more about him. I had been told nothing about him other than a name he uses on a computer. (not his real name) At this time K got very mad and said I only wanted this information so I could run background checks on this mystery man. I reminded her that someone very close to her had said I should run a background check and that I had told them NO, I didn't want K to think I was spying on her. She continued to say that I didn't trust her and I was spying on her and him. I told her I wanted to run his name through the National Sex Crime Database just to make sure my son was safe. This just made her more upset. I guess wanting to know about the people that might become a major part of my son's life makes me a bad person. Anyway about this time our son was being ask to get pants on for the 5th time. Because of the fight K and I were having at the time I got upset with him and told him I was going to get his pants and he was in big trouble. As I got close to the dryer my son threw something at my back out of anger. This really set me off so I just left the house. Just started walking away. I walked at 5 miles down the road before calling K and letting her know where I was. She did come pick me up and my son said he was sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday K writes a post to her blog talking about how She shouldn't go on a trip that she is leave for on Friday. Shes afraid that I will do something to the house or steal everything or something. Chaos is how she put it. So just as she had done, I posted a comment on her post. She then took took down the comments on that post. Maybe I was wrong in wanting to know more about this guy before he met my son. If so then I am at fault in this. If not, then this is my only way to tell my side of this story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, you are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all you are my Friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Do Love You...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-6154765195692245102?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/6154765195692245102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=6154765195692245102&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6154765195692245102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6154765195692245102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/lets-hurt-even-more.html' title='Lets Hurt Even More...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-6898816424887732478</id><published>2009-06-09T16:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T16:31:37.772-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sorry'/><title type='text'>Reading it Wrong...</title><content type='html'>I posted yesterday about the way i have felt the last 3 weeks.  In this post I said some things that may have sounded like I was attacking K.  I did not mean for this to be the case.  K is a wonderful Mother and our son is the single most important thing in her life.  K, if this came across in any other way I want to apologize.  This was not my intention.   I also want to apologize to anyone else that might have taken my words as an attack on K.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The post was to show how I feel like a second class citizen in my own house.  It was not meant for any other reason.  From now on I will try to be more careful with my words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, you are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;But most most of all you are my Friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-6898816424887732478?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/6898816424887732478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=6898816424887732478&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6898816424887732478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6898816424887732478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/reading-it-wrong.html' title='Reading it Wrong...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-7969583052928615478</id><published>2009-06-08T10:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T11:44:05.127-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death of Love'/><title type='text'>The Slow Death of Love...</title><content type='html'>What do we do about RA? Who gets the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt;? What about the wedding pictures?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K has moved pass the getting upset about all of this. She has never shown any weakness during this divorce. I didn't know that life could hurt so bad, and it doesn't help that she puts on this I don't care attitude. I don't have anywhere to go, so my mother told me to come down and stay with her. She is 76 years old and isn't able to do much for herself anymore. Last month there would have been no way that K would have let me move back with my mom. She even said that if something happened between us, she would not let me move out until I had a place away from my mom's house. My how things have change. Last night she told me she really needed me out of the house asap. When I told her &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; she asked where I was going. I told her that right now my mom's is the only place I have to go. I told her that I am working on another place but it might be 30 days before I could move in. She told me as long as it was not permanent, that I should go live at my mom's. What could have changed her mind about me so quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 30 days ago everything in the W house was going great. We went to movies together, played with our son, and did all the things a normal family would do. We were even looking at new matching titanium wedding rings. She met met someone at the track who had one and she started looking into styles and prices. She was emailing me web sites and pictures. Well I guess I don't have to worry about the rings I was giving you for our 9 &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; wedding anniversary. Anyway, about 30 days ago she started an online friendship with him. She says he is in Houston but his phone # is located in Austin. But that's nether here nor there. In the last 30 days their friendship has turned into a relationship. If that's what it takes to make K happy, then I'm happy for her. All I want is for the love of my life to be happy. So in 30 days I went from someone she loved enough to want to get new wedding rings with to a roommate that he wants out of the house today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when she got home last night after being gone all weekend with her friend K2. (They were doing some work) I asked her to sit down with me to talk about a few details about the upcoming divorce. We talking about the splitting of the assets and most importantly how we would handle our son's well being. I thought that we had decided that RA would stay with his mom and I would have always be able to see his son whenever I chose. But this time when the subject was brought up she said a friend had told her that the courts would have to decide how RA would be handled. She said she was also told the courts would have to decide how much child support payments would be. Anyway in the middle of this important talk her cell phone rang. It was him. You could tell by the way the tone in her voice changed when she picked up the phone. In that one second we went from a serious talk about our son's future to her talking to him. Seems like the last two weeks anytime her and I need to talk about the future he calls and I am sent to my room. Not once has she told him "Can I call you back. I'm in the middle of something important". He is a big reason for her wanting me out of the house so fast. She told me she would not feel right having him or any other man come to stay with her while I'm still here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, I know that he is now a very important part of your but RA and I both still need you in our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all you are my Friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-7969583052928615478?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/7969583052928615478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=7969583052928615478&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7969583052928615478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7969583052928615478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/slow-death-of-love.html' title='The Slow Death of Love...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-5196073393979469589</id><published>2009-06-07T01:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T02:00:21.686-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Divorce'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Suicide.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lost Love'/><title type='text'>Long time ago...</title><content type='html'>How do you say thank you to someone who for the last 20+ years has always found a way to show up in my life just when things look the darkest.  CW was my first true love.  The kind that you spend the rest of your life thinking of what might have been.  I have had 5 of those relationships but she was the first.  I met CW at a movie.  She was with  another guy so I asked him if they were dating.  He said no so I asked her out on a date.  She was and still is so beautiful and always said just the right things when I needed her the most.  We spent about 2 years together and I loved every minute of it.  We made love everywhere you could think of and some places that you might not.  At this time I was unwilling to let go of a part of my life that kept us apart on most Fridays and Saturdays.  Looking back I think of how stupid I was during those time.  She got tired of waiting for me and one day she left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many years later she found me on AOL and we started a new online friendship.  For a few years we would email each other from time to time, then one day she told me that she was moving to OK.  The next day her email was shut off and she was gone again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CW was the first friend I looked for and found on Facebook.  She is now married and living over seas.  We chat from time to time and I have told her how much I have missed her.  I hope that in the future she does not leave me high and dry again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CW, GR, JM, MN, and now K,  I want to thank each of you for the love, the magic, and the true feeling of togetherness that I have felt with each one of you.  You have all touched my life in different ways and all but GR left me for better things.  GR, I still miss you so much.  When that drunk driver took you from me, I thought that I would never find that kind of love again.  K took the last picture I had of you and had it mounted and framed to hang in our home.  Thats how much love K had for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CW, Thanks for the Love and Friendship.  You were the one that held me together in the first days of this divorce.  There were times that I wanted to end it all, but you were there to let me know that I was still needed.  For that I owe you my life.  Thanks for all you do...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K,  you are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all you are my Friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-5196073393979469589?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/5196073393979469589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=5196073393979469589&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5196073393979469589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5196073393979469589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/long-time-ago.html' title='Long time ago...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-4048763663800548891</id><published>2009-06-06T10:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T11:33:21.027-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Old Friends'/><title type='text'>Old Friends...</title><content type='html'>K is and always will be he greatest love of my life. I can't seem to shake the fact that she's gone. A hurt so deep that I thought I would never talk to another human. Then something strange happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a resent post I told the story about my friend M. M and I dated from 1990 to 1993. When it ended there was a lot of hurt. Hurt I thought I would never get over. We didn't talk for 17 years. Not a word. Then K told me she wanted this divorce. 3 days later M found me on Classmates and we met for lunch. We ate lunch and caught up on the last 17 years. She was married and had a son then got divorced about 10 years ago. M and I have talked a lot over the last three days and it has helped me understand that sometimes people grow apart. Thank you M for all the support over the last few days. You have really helped me keep my heart on the prize. No matter what happens between K and I you will always be my friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K.  You will always be my greatest love and I will always be here for you.&lt;br /&gt;You are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love. &lt;br /&gt;But most of all you are my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-4048763663800548891?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/4048763663800548891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=4048763663800548891&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/4048763663800548891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/4048763663800548891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/old-friends.html' title='Old Friends...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-6161409709906126377</id><published>2009-06-04T12:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T13:04:34.919-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Vows...</title><content type='html'>She wrote or vows.  Beautiful words that made me cry right there in front of God and everybody.  Not we have parted and those words feel empty.  I understand that she doesn't want to be my wife anymore.  I understand that she needs me out of the house as soon as possible, to help her with her healing.  I will do my best to be out quickly.  To give her the complete freedom she so needs.  We will still see each other when I come to pick up our son.  And now that she is part of my clan, she is part of the W family for life.  She will be invited to all holidays and family functions.  You didn't know that once your in the "Family" there is no way out.  So K, you will always be my one true love and I will always be waiting in case you want to come back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent yesterday talking to two old friends that I lost touch with almost 20 years ago.  K knows of these two ladies and understands my past with them.  The first one I will call M.  M and I dated for 3 years starting in 1990.  We found each other on Classmates.com and been talking off and on for a few days now.  I had lunch with M and her son yesterday.  We talked about old times and what is happening now in my life.  She said she would pray for K and I.  Thats sweet.  M and my relationship ended very bad.  There was a lot of hurt and anger when we spilt so I didn't know how I would feel about seeing her for lunch.  It ended up being a very calming day.  We sat and talked for about 5 hours.  In the end I realized that although we had parted in the worst of ways, we had moved past that part in our lifes.  We had grown past the pain.  Thank you M for helping me realize that over time I will move on past the pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My second friend is J.  J and I just lost touch about 17 years ago.  She just up and left without warning.  I found her on Facebook two days ago.  We have talked about the past and K.  She then told me why she had ran away 17 years ago.  She told me that her daughter was likely mine.  A 19 year old that has never knew her father.  I knew  her when she was 2.  I was there when she was born.  She might not be mine.  But I wouldn't mind at all.  So last night at about 10pm J called me to let me know that her soon to be ex had beaten her but he was told he had to leave the house for the night.  I told K about this and she said I should go and get her out of the house.  K even said if she needed a place to stay for the night I should bring her back to the house.  I went to pick J up and take her to her mothers house but we ended up driving around for a while.  Just talking, letting her clear her head.  She even called K on the phone to thank her for letting me go pick her up.  After we got to her mom's house she invited me in to talk.  The door opened and there stood J's daughter.  After we talked for some time I asked her daughter if she wanted to know if I was really her dad.  She said no.  I understand.  She grew up knowing someone else as her dad and we agreed that it would be better for everyone if things remained the same.  K knows about her and thought it would be great if she were my daughter.  K is so understanding.  Thats one of the thousands of reasons that I love her more than life itself.  J, daughter and I talked until 4 am then I headed home.  J, thank you for being there to talk to me about my problems even though you were going through a lot of crap of your own last night.  And K, thank you for just being there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. You will always be my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all you will always be my Friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  In a week or two....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-6161409709906126377?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/6161409709906126377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=6161409709906126377&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6161409709906126377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6161409709906126377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/vows.html' title='The Vows...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-8556074058643838514</id><published>2009-06-02T07:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T08:17:54.863-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Death'/><title type='text'>Today I Died...</title><content type='html'>I was that one.  The one that pushed to hard.  I tried to explain that I was not trying to hurt her.  She could not believe those words.  Thinking that I was only trying to restart a love that she let go of long ago.  She says she must let me go to keep from hurting me.  She does not realize that last night when she told me to find another place to live, she did not hurt me, she killed me.  She didn't mean too.  I forgive her.  I will not bother her again.  I will miss her and suffer in silence.  My heart to hurt forever.  Forever without my Wife. Forever without my Son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I started to die.  I will die a little each day.  I have made a cry for help.  A cry that will never be heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K.  You will always be my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all you will always be my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-8556074058643838514?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/8556074058643838514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=8556074058643838514&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8556074058643838514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/8556074058643838514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/today-i-died.html' title='Today I Died...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-6762864500388886904</id><published>2009-06-01T22:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T22:20:04.424-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Divorce'/><title type='text'>???</title><content type='html'>Today K told me she wants a divorce and wants me out of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough said.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K.  You will always be my Heart, my Soul, my life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all you will always be my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-6762864500388886904?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/6762864500388886904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=6762864500388886904&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6762864500388886904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6762864500388886904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='???'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-3932579570146899334</id><published>2009-05-31T18:36:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T19:08:51.451-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lost Love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Missing you'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Forever'/><title type='text'>Gone...</title><content type='html'>She's gone. But she still lives in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Locked away forever. She will never gain release.&lt;br /&gt;Her body,her soul. leaving without warning.&lt;br /&gt;But her memory. forever in my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's gone. But she still lives in my soul.&lt;br /&gt;A soul torn apart, not by her.&lt;br /&gt;But by another. He mocks me at every turn.&lt;br /&gt;Knowing to well he is breaking up a family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's gone. But she still lives in my life.&lt;br /&gt;A home divided but still as one.&lt;br /&gt;It is not the house of love that we once shared.&lt;br /&gt;But it is still our home. A home to 3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's gone. But she still lives in my Love.&lt;br /&gt;A love that knows no bounds. No Time frame.&lt;br /&gt;A love that looks at us through 6 year old blue eyes.&lt;br /&gt;A love that I hope to see in her again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. When I look into his eyes I see a love that just a few years ago was so strong that it could endure any problems. I see a love that is worth fighting for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. When I look into his eyes, I see YOU.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all you are my friend...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Love you for all times,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-3932579570146899334?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/3932579570146899334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=3932579570146899334&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/3932579570146899334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/3932579570146899334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/gone.html' title='Gone...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-7327164902121872823</id><published>2009-05-31T04:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T04:53:11.961-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heart ache'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='longing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Loving.'/><title type='text'>Moving On...</title><content type='html'>You must move on. Wow. If I had a dime for every time I have heard that over the last week I would be a rich man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K and I used to love to work at the race track. Corner Marshal, Corner Worker, Track Safety. There were many different names for what we did but the all meant the same. Having fun. Well we have a race this weekend and at the advise of many friends, I told the powers that be that I would be there. The speed, the drivers, standing next to a race track where only a very small wall keeps you safe from the cars. Everyone thought that it would be good for me to get out and play at the track.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drivers and workers are a very tight family. We try to protect each other when ever we can. And that's where my problems began yesterday. At the morning briefing everyone asked the 2 questions they always ask. "How is RA? (the son) He's ok. How is K? I don't know. Twenty plus times yesterday I heard the same question. How is K? My sorrow grew heavier each time I was asked, but hen came the really hard part. Driving around the track. I place that had made K and I so happy a few months ago, now seemed like a death march. Much doom and gloom. Every where I looked I was reminded of her. Of us. I would tell myself, Hey that's where K and I used to camp. That's where I took the pictures of her and RA with Patrick Dempsey. That's where she broke her ankle. That's where I blew out my knee. (we were working together at the time and it was K that had to rescue me) Then I passed the field. Right after K got her new van, we drove up to the track and slept in her new van. We drove around the track for about an hour looking for the perfect place to park. After we stopped we climbed into the back and made love in her new van. We then just fell asleep holding each other. God we were so happy together. Yesterday the joy of being at the track left my heart. I wanted so bad to just pack up and run from that place as fast as I could. I do not love being at the track anymore. I loathe it. So much for moving on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I died a little more yesterday... Please K, help me! Please anybody!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. You are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all you are my Friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-7327164902121872823?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/7327164902121872823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=7327164902121872823&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7327164902121872823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7327164902121872823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/moving-on.html' title='Moving On...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-4260623880380388178</id><published>2009-05-30T21:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T21:55:29.065-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Broken Hearts'/><title type='text'>Sorry...</title><content type='html'>Heart is breaking.   Don't have much to say tonight.  I will be tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K.  You are my Heart, my Soul, my Life and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-4260623880380388178?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/4260623880380388178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=4260623880380388178&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/4260623880380388178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/4260623880380388178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/sorry.html' title='Sorry...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-9028446610254364386</id><published>2009-05-30T02:58:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T04:00:02.516-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Daddy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='breaking up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heart break'/><title type='text'>Death by Brain...</title><content type='html'>K. This post is in no way a poke at you or him or anybody else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to bed at 11 pm thinking about her.  Woke up at 2 am thinking about her.  This has been my sleeping pattern over the last 2 weeks.  I can't eat.  The thought of food makes me ill.  I've lost 12 lbs. over the last week.  Why is it that I morn the loss of K that much.  Is my heart, my mind not letting me eat to punish me for all the wrongs that I have done to her?   Could my body be trying to commit suicide by starvation and me not even know it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke o this morning and lay there wondering what she was doing.  She last blogged at 1 am, so see is ether asleep or on the phone with him.  She and he both follow a lot of the same blogs.  They met through a blog of a really good friend of K's.  She loves him and he says he loves her.  she says that she is going to meet him.  If this is true, then we might have a problem Houston.  You see, I told K that I would never try to take our son away from her.  That was always a big worry for her.  Because of the life path she follows she thinks I would stand up in front of a judge and use that against her.  I would never do this, but if this is the love say says it is, then her running off to Texas to be with this man causes an issue.  I will not let her take my son half way cross country to live.  She will not take my son from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been handling a lot of questions from a 6 year old little boy over the last few weeks.  But Thursday he asked me a question that a thought might better be answered by K.  He asked me "Daddy, if you move into a new house will mommy let a new daddy move in here?"  OUCH...  So yesterday we were sitting on the floor playing a game and I told him to ask his mommy that question.  K said "Maybe, we will have to see."  I thought to myself, "Wow, I didn't know you could replace a daddy that easily. "  Now don't get me wrong here.  I am sure she didn't hear the question the way it was asked, but now I had to tell mt son that I was his daddy  for all time.  Even if I'm not living with him.  I told him mommy may have new friends that move in to the house, but I was his daddy.  Then K explained to him that I would always be his daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to let be running along.  I have to be up in a few hours to go Chase Race Cars and Rescue Drivers.  Or it the other way around.  I never can remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K.  You are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;But most of all, you are my Friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-9028446610254364386?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/9028446610254364386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=9028446610254364386&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/9028446610254364386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/9028446610254364386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/death-by-brain.html' title='Death by Brain...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-5194463768774406422</id><published>2009-05-29T14:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T14:32:14.445-04:00</updated><title type='text'>PAIN...</title><content type='html'>I see the pain.  The hurt that is tearing at her heart.  The anger that only one that has been hurt, truly hurt, can feel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched her sleep last night.  It was a dark night.  Darker than most.  The lightning from a passing storm flashed across her face.  In that moment I saw a smile.  It's been a rare site to see her smile.  She was having a dream.  I knew it was not about me.  She doesn't smile for me anymore.  In that moment she was out of the pain.  The pain that I started in her many years ago.  In that moment she was happy.  A hope that her happiness last longer than one fleeting moment in the dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her last night that I was not going to let her hurt me anymore.  I didn't mean it in a bad way.  I told her that I would always love her, that means I will always be in pain.  I told her that I was letting go of the anger. I was giving her the freedom to love without having to worry about my striking out at her.  Hoping to take away some of the pain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, you are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But most of all, you are my Friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-5194463768774406422?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/5194463768774406422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=5194463768774406422&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5194463768774406422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5194463768774406422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/pain.html' title='PAIN...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-5703962278615094613</id><published>2009-05-28T07:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T07:45:27.938-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Release'/><title type='text'>I Release You...</title><content type='html'>I release you...&lt;br /&gt;To find the happiness that I have known since the day I met you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...&lt;br /&gt;To find the love that rebuilds your.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...&lt;br /&gt;To soar like the beautiful bird that is your soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...&lt;br /&gt;To find that one thing that you couldn't find with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...&lt;br /&gt;Because it's the right thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...&lt;br /&gt;From the pain of the last 8 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...&lt;br /&gt;From those vows we spoke when we were so much in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...&lt;br /&gt;In hopes that you will find your way back to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...&lt;br /&gt;But you will always be My Wittle Bunny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...&lt;br /&gt;Because I Love You.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I release you...&lt;br /&gt;Because I Love You...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K.  I release you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are my Heart, my Soul, my Life, and my Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-5703962278615094613?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/5703962278615094613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=5703962278615094613&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5703962278615094613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5703962278615094613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-release-you.html' title='I Release You...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-7649035620699142509</id><published>2009-05-27T20:22:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T20:52:22.658-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Kiss...</title><content type='html'>My heart lay broken. Pieces to small to hope to put together again. When she said those words yesterday, it felt like the weight of the world had just crashed down on me. When she left for her trip last week the last thing she did before leaving was to give me a kiss. I didn't know it would be the last kiss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's only been a week be I already miss so much. I miss the feel of her skin. It's soft like a new baby. I miss her smile. A smile that made me smile even in my darkest times. I miss her eyes. The first time I really saw the moon the way that she sees it was in the reflection of her eyes. I miss her touch. A touch that can tame the most angry of beast. And I miss her kiss. The kiss that said I love you, even if she says she doesn't feel it anymore. A kiss that always said that everything would be alright. A kiss so simple that it was like a fawn. So sweet and tender, but never there long enough. God will I miss her kiss...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. Remember, you are My Heart, My Soul, My life, and My Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-7649035620699142509?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/7649035620699142509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=7649035620699142509&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7649035620699142509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7649035620699142509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/kiss.html' title='The Kiss...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-7921546728745369381</id><published>2009-05-26T23:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T20:55:53.449-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My last post???</title><content type='html'>Well we have reached the end of the road. K came home tonight and without being able to say my piece, she told me she didn't want to be married to me any more. I have to say that I'm kind of numb right now. I am lost. I don't know what to do. I have now lost everything. My car, my job, my home, and the most important thing to me in the world, my wife. Don't get me wrong, I love our son but she was the ying to my yang. I wish that we could just sit down and talk, but she has made up her mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I lost my faith in GOD. I just can't see how someone as loving as God could torture a man as much as I have been tortured. How could he sit back and let this many bad things happen to one person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my last post. I am closing up my laptop, putting it into it's bag, and will not be back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember that you are My Heart, My Soul, My Life, My love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-7921546728745369381?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/7921546728745369381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=7921546728745369381&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7921546728745369381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/7921546728745369381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-last-post.html' title='My last post???'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-5986299421342262525</id><published>2009-05-26T09:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T10:04:22.644-04:00</updated><title type='text'>8 1/2 years...</title><content type='html'>I want her to give me the chance to grow with her.  Not just in age but in spirit.  We talked last night when she stopped on her trip home.  She said she did not want to talk about our future on the phone or on the computer.  I can respect her for that.  She refused to say I love you.  That was my first clue that the end is near.  Some of her answers were cryptic.  Tonight a marriage of 8 1/2 years will come to an end because of my stupidity.  I hope that tomorrow I can write you here and tell you I was wrong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I let my son sleep in the bed with me.  I was thinking it might be the last time I get to do that.  Isn't it funny how younglings know there is a problem without being told.  He looked at me last night and said "Daddy,  I think there is a 1% chance that mommy will ask you to live in another house."  Then about 10 minutes later he revised that figure to 55%.  Kids know.  He said he was very sad.  I told him that even if I move to another house, it doesn't mean that mommy and daddy don't love him just as much as before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K.Remember, you are My Heart, My Soul, My Life, My Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  Please give the chance to grow with you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-5986299421342262525?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/5986299421342262525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=5986299421342262525&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5986299421342262525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5986299421342262525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/8-12-years.html' title='8 1/2 years...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-1646267032443658465</id><published>2009-05-26T04:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T04:59:33.926-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Call...</title><content type='html'>K called me last to let me know that they were on the road and would be home sometime today.  I asked her if there were any chance for us, but she would not answer.  She looked at this blog last night and now thinks that she is the cause of this pain.  Not True!  I have done this to myself.  But I am also ready to do what it takes to keep her snuggled up next to me at night.  In 16 hours I will know my fate.  I can only pray that my fate and hers follow the same path. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K.  Don't worry about me hurting myself.  If you have seen the true meaning behind this blog, you will know that I have already done that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember, you are My Heart, My Soul, My Life, My Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-1646267032443658465?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/1646267032443658465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=1646267032443658465&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/1646267032443658465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/1646267032443658465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/call.html' title='The Call...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-302726665640043280</id><published>2009-05-25T12:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T13:09:04.683-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye....</title><content type='html'>7 days.  Not one view.  Think I'm going to close down this blog.  People don't care to read about someone who is on the edge of eternity.  I leave you with the lyrics to a song that beat describe how I feel.  Thanks to Pink Floyd for the use of their lyrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Goodbye cruel world, I'm leaving you today. Goodbye,Goodbye,Goodbye.  Goodbye, all you people, There's nothing you can say to make me change my mind.Goodbye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-302726665640043280?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/302726665640043280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=302726665640043280&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/302726665640043280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/302726665640043280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/goodbye.html' title='Goodbye....'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-5056245708356370355</id><published>2009-05-25T04:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T06:11:49.175-04:00</updated><title type='text'>48 hours...</title><content type='html'>The next 48 hours will be the longest of my life. K and her best friend K2 will be spending the next 48 hours driving back from Mass. It's not the fact that she is driving home from so far away that troubles me. It's that until she gets home, unloads, and relaxes I will not know what my future might bring. I want to be a better man but will she let me. I spent last night cleaning and packing some stuff up. Stuff I don't use anymore and won't miss being gone. She should be happy about being able to get into the closet again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the day of the year that we set aside to remember those who gave all so the we could write are little blogs, Say what we wish about the country and it's leaders. And walk down the street without worry of the goverment stopping us to see if we are who we say we are. I think it's very sad that we set aside one day to do this. We should remember these men and women every morning when we wake up and every night before our heads touch the pillow. But there is also another group we should remember. The Husbands and Wives, Mothers and Fathers, Sisters and Brothers, and the children of these patriots who gave so much for our country. So if you see one of the brave men or women who stand on that wall and protect you from the bad guys, walk up and say thank you. Remember, even if you don't believe in their politics, they are the ones giving you that right to complain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RIP: Benjamin Fuller, 6:22am, 23 October, 1983. Marine Barricks, Beirut, Lebanon. My Friend, Thank You. You are missed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K. Remember, you are My Heart, My Soul, My Life, My Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-5056245708356370355?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/5056245708356370355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=5056245708356370355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5056245708356370355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5056245708356370355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/48-hours.html' title='48 hours...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-2303249400634440303</id><published>2009-05-24T07:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T08:34:32.185-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Epitaph'/><title type='text'>End...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Piratedred&lt;/span&gt; tried to be a good man. It wasn't until the end that he discovered that it was him. He was the one that created all of the problems that brought him to his final day. He lived a full life, but had very few friends. He was alone on his last day. He had no bucket list because he spent his whole life doing what he wanted. He never thought about others feelings. Skydiving, driving race cars, mountain climbing, whitewater rafting, and flying in a stunt plane are only a few of the many things he had done before the end. But with all of this he was only scared 2 times in his life. The day she said "I Do" and the first time he looked into the eyes of their son. It was those 2 days that he realized there was someone else that depended on him for love, support, and a shoulder to cry on. Funny how in the end it was him that needed saving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we are today. Writing an epitaph that will never be seen. For a person who will never be missed. He was a bad husband, a bad father, and a bad friend. No one showed for the service. For a man who loved life so deeply, he had very little to show for it in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you say goodbye to someone that was despised. You say "Good &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Riddance".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it ends.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, Remember, you are My Heart, My Soul, My Life, My Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-2303249400634440303?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/2303249400634440303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=2303249400634440303&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/2303249400634440303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/2303249400634440303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/end.html' title='End...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-1249449274371002985</id><published>2009-05-23T23:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-24T00:13:09.102-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Words...</title><content type='html'>I can't speak in Poems.  I have been told that words can make all the difference.  Words can make you fall in love.  The lack of words can drive away those who were once so much in love.  I wish I could express my self better.  Tell those who I love just how much they mean.  What I have learned over the last week is that I say "I love you" often, but I don't show it enough.  If given another chance they will know how much they mean to me in every thing I do.  Even though K is not here, today I started this new chapter of my life by cleaning up around yard.  Tomorrow I will be replacing the fuel sending unit in her van.  (that's the part that tells the needle on the dash how much gas you have)  I will also start cleaning the inside of the house so she won't be coming home to a mess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Remember, you are My Heart, My Soul, My Life, My Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-1249449274371002985?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/1249449274371002985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=1249449274371002985&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/1249449274371002985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/1249449274371002985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/words.html' title='Words...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-6298359708212956762</id><published>2009-05-23T07:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T08:54:12.243-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rain..</title><content type='html'>It looks like it's going to rain again today.  I love the rain.  It makes the trees and grass look greener.  It makes the flowers look brighter.  It makes the earth look new.  It's been raining here for a few days now and everything looks way it should.  The way I imagine GOD envisioned the earth so long ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  In her blog a few days ago, K said that she really wanted to have a garden.  When she was younger her family grew most of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;their&lt;/span&gt; veggies and slaughtered and processed most of their meat products.  When K gets home on Tuesday I am going to sit down with her and design and build a garden box big enough to grow any thing she wishes.  Hell, I'll start hunting again.  I'll bring home the meat, RA will bring home the fish, and we will all tend the garden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Today starts the downhill part of K's trip.  I hope she has has nice weather.  I hope she has had no rain.  You know, This week I have cried myself to sleep many times.  Thinking about what might happen when she gets home has me worried beyond imagination.  I broke down the other day in front of K's mom.  The tears started flowing.  Flowing like Rain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Hey look!  It's starting to rain again.  Some times I hate the rain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  K, always remember, You are My Heart, My Soul, My Life, My Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-6298359708212956762?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/6298359708212956762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=6298359708212956762&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6298359708212956762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/6298359708212956762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/rain.html' title='The Rain..'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-5832879054394297783</id><published>2009-05-22T05:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T07:08:30.227-04:00</updated><title type='text'>As I slip deeper into the aybss...</title><content type='html'>1am-5am. Like clockwork. RA is still asleep. I hope he is having good dreams. I hope K, who I miss so very much, is having sweet dreams. As for me, I have been having a lot of nightmares both asleep and awake over the last few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week on her blog K said that sometimes she wish there were a reset button for her life. Well that got me thinking. There is a reset button for her life but I would have to be the one to push it. How many people would be better off if I were not here anymore. Now I'm not saying that I'm going out to kill myself today, I told K I would be here when she got home so she wouldn't have to end her vacation early, but what if Tuesday after she gets home I were to not be here anymore. Truly, who would miss me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets look at the very short list below:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RA: He might miss me for a while but he is still young enough to bond to another male figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K: Might miss me for a week or two but she has had so many friends and family pass away that she gets over it an on with her life in a very short time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Mommylady&lt;/span&gt;: Same as K. They are related after all. However she might miss me more than most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad: His heart broke 3 years ago when my sister died. He has never been the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom: Her mind is so far gone at this point that she would forget before she put down that phone after being told I was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J (the roommate): J and I have been friends for over 35 years. I'm sure he would miss me the most, but again he would get over it in a short time and get on with his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CM (the other guy): K says there is nothing between them. But she told me that she really wants to meet this guy and he is one of the reasons she wants a more open relationship. What am I suppose to think? Anyway, I am sure if given the chance he would be happy to help me in this project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I could do it. I do not fear death. In fact some times I long for it. The only thing that has stopped me before is my luck. I have the worst luck and I'm afraid I will mess it up and spend the rest of my years in a hospital hooked up to a hundred machines. Such is life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K, You said you wish you could love me the way that I love you? You say that you feel like you never do anything for me? You do more for me than you could ever imagine. When we are together you make me so happy. You make me proud to say that I married K and she she the most wonderful woman in the world. When god made heaven, he made it in your likeness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I fell in love with you, I feel for many different reasons. I fell in love with your mind and it has kept me on my toes. Some times when I'm with you I feel like Weird Al on Jeopardy. I fell in love with your heart. Lets face it, anyone who gives hugs to random trees and stuffed animals knows more love than I can ever hope to feel. I fell in love with your eyes. Eyes so deep and wonderful that sometimes when I look deep into your eyes I think that I can see the beginning of time it's self. I fell in love with your spirit. A spirit that knows no earthly bounds. I fell in love with your body. From the arch where your neck meets your shoulder. Your nose your chin, and those cheek bones that would make any supermodel green with envy. Your hands that can do the work of ten men but still hold me with so much love and compassion. Your blast furnace oven that keeps me warm on those cold nights. And your lips. Lips that have kissed me a thousand times and each one is more meaningful than the last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  What I am trying to say is, you say you wish you could love me as much as I love you, but you don't see yourself the way I see you.  You don't see the love you give me in the every day things you do for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember,  you are My Heart, My Soul, My Life, and My Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-5832879054394297783?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/5832879054394297783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=5832879054394297783&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5832879054394297783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5832879054394297783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/as-i-slip-deeper-into-aybss.html' title='As I slip deeper into the aybss...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-5162263147615477736</id><published>2009-05-21T06:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T07:19:03.772-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Messages to love ones'/><title type='text'>Welcome to my nightmare...</title><content type='html'>Went to bed at 1am and was up at 5.  This has become a pattern over the last 2 months.  Can't eat, can't sleep, so whats a poor soul to do? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Last night I spent some time talking to a friend of mine who's wife filed for divorce in March.  He has done everything he could to fix his marriage and did this with her fighting him every step of the way.  Last night they had their 5&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; session with the marriage consular.  She didn't show up.  So last night when he got home he told her that he was granting her the divorce.  So in 30 days from today they will part ways.  There were no kids so when this is final they don't even have to speak to each other ever again.  30 days.  That's all it takes in Georgia.  In 30 days a marriage of 26 years will end and 2 of my friends will part ways forever.  How sad is that?  He was the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;CTO&lt;/span&gt; of the same company that I was laid-off from in March.  He also lost his job yesterday.  Sorry, I forgot to add that I had lost my job in my first post.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  So all off this got me thinking.  26 years and it's over in just 30 days.  What chance do I have of saving my marriage.  When K comes home next week from her trip, 8 1/2 years could be over in just 30 days.  That would be her choice.  She is away at a gathering/retreat somewhere in Mass..  She did not leave an emergency contact number or any other info about how to contact her this week.  If something happens to RA, her mom, or myself this week, I have no way to get her a message.  She did call yesterday to see if everything was OK, but I was fishing and she only called the house.  I did talk to her but only after I called her.  She said when she got to where she was going there would be no cell service. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Well time to wrap things up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D:  I'm am there for you brother.  If you need anything you just pick-up the phone and call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;MommyLady&lt;/span&gt;:  Always remember this, you have always been there for me and K.  You have helped us through so much.  Both good and bad.  And for that I will always love you like my real mom.  No matter what happens between your daughter and I, you will always be a very important person in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K:  No man has ever loved a woman as much as I love you.  We have been through some tough times before and most of the time it's my fault.  I know that some times I'm a pain in the ass.  And some times I am just an ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Because I don't have contact info for you this week I will leave you this in hopes that one day you will find it.  If something should happen to me while you are gone, always remember that my spirit will always be right there beside you.  Whispering "I Love You" so softly that only your heart can hear it.  You are My Heart, My Soul, My Life, and My Love.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-5162263147615477736?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/5162263147615477736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=5162263147615477736&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5162263147615477736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5162263147615477736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/welcome-to-my-nightmare.html' title='Welcome to my nightmare...'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-561754723843013311</id><published>2009-05-20T20:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T20:33:44.744-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The first fish is always the sweetest.</title><content type='html'>We just got back from My son's (he will now be called RA for this blog) first fishing trip.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Today's&lt;/span&gt; score:  RA=6 Fish=0  It's true.  He caught 5 Bream and 1 Bluegill.  (pictures to be posted soon)  The score was almost 5-1 as the Bluegill, which was a good 2 hands longs, almost pulled the boy into the lake.  Mom, you would have been so proud of both he and I.  Hope you got the pictures. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I have to run.  My boy is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;challenging&lt;/span&gt; me to golf on the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;.  He's only 6 but he beats the poo out of me &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; we play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Mom,  Come home soon.  The two boys you left here our missing you something &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;awful&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Remember that you are my Heart, My Soul, My Life and My Love....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-561754723843013311?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/561754723843013311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=561754723843013311&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/561754723843013311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/561754723843013311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/first-fish-is-always-sweetest.html' title='The first fish is always the sweetest.'/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7859978917666745942.post-5507471024608804874</id><published>2009-05-20T09:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T10:04:58.355-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Four years ago I felt like the luckiest man on earth.  I had a family that was not perfect but was perfect enough.  I wife that was my life, my heart, and my soul.  A son that had just turned 2 and was my BFF.  A job that I had lucked into but could have worked there forever.  A family who loved me and even in-laws that treated me like a son.  But But in the spring on 2005 everything started to change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  In May of 2005 my sister ,for this blog I will call her V,  was told she had Cancer.  Type 2, Treatable.  She died on July 4 2007.  My mom slipped into a deep depression.  Alcohol and sleeping pills seemed to do the trick for her.  She hardly knows who I am anymore.  Her short term memory is now shot and her long term memory was really never there.  My mom and dad just celebrated their 55 anniversary. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  That brings us up-to-date.  Now, About 3 months ago my wife's best friend, who is married, met someone and at my wife's request she told her husband about this other guy.  Her husband did what I guess is the normal thing to do in these times and told her "ok, lets have an open relationship".  Well about 2 weeks ago my wife comes to me and says she is not getting what she needs from our marriage, 8 1/2 years, and wish we could have an open marriage like her friend.  Well I just was not brought up that way.  Last week while reading her blog, yes she knows I read her blog, I found out that there is someone that she met on her blog that she is now wanting to meet.  She says his words feels some of the things that she is missing with me.  In one of the post to her blog he told her that he is in love with her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  We had a big fight on Monday night and she left on Tuesday to go to Mass. to visit with friends.  She is from that area.  She left without us working anything out so now I must go until next Tuesday before I know if I will still have a home.  We tried to go away from the house to talk but our 6 year old son who was in bed already over heard some of our fight.  So now he is scared that "his daddy might have to go and live somewhere else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  I hope that my wife (I will call her K from now on) will make the choice that will bring her back to her family.  She is a singer/songwriter and her music and her voice that until a few weeks ago filled my heart and soul now makes me cry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Even though I doubt anyone will read this blog, I will keep this blog updated.  Please pray for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  K,  if you ever find this post remember that you are my love , my life, my heart, and my soul.  I will love you for all time and remember that "death cannot stop true love, all it can do is delay it for a while".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7859978917666745942-5507471024608804874?l=problemswithpirates.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/feeds/5507471024608804874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7859978917666745942&amp;postID=5507471024608804874&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5507471024608804874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7859978917666745942/posts/default/5507471024608804874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://problemswithpirates.blogspot.com/2009/05/four-years-ago-i-felt-like-luckiest-man.html' title=''/><author><name>Piratedred</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_YkbyGnS6Oek/Sh8ULi29JgI/AAAAAAAAAAM/AGaNIEQ2eoo/S220/img001.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
