In the introduction to my book, I said, “I have a lingering hope for a last romance.”
In 2015, a collector (shall we say a gentleman) called me about a broken ceramic sculpture and I suggested that I repair it and use the original clay piece as a model for a bronze sculpture that would not break – ever. He said, “Let’s do this.”
We began a professional relationship – collector and artist. He was very supportive through the lengthy process of making his bronze. I was charmed. When the bronze was finished in May of 2016, he came to New Mexico and picked up the sculpture and we began to be more than friends.
The summer of 2016 was a glorious and romantic time for both of us. He often visited me and the weather was perfect. Every afternoon it would rain and we would sit on the porch and watch the storms. Censored.
I was so in love, happy, surprised with joy that when the red flags of his irrational, terrible and uncontrollable temper appeared I simply shoved any doubts away. I could not consider any possible obstacles to living the rest of my life with him.
Really. He had been married four times to my lengthy one marriage. He had a strange catalogue of troubles with persons and organizations. I ignored his rants and upsets. He moved in May of 2017 and he moved out in April of 2018. It did not work for either of us. Too much drama.
He had many angelic qualities (his good side was remarkable and generous): he was entertaining, he was/is (to this old lady) extremely attractive and yes I think carrying way, way too much mental baggage.
No, I am not perfect, no angel, no saint…neurotic, egocentric, prone to upset, and overly sensitive. I am controlling and demanding. I am also affectionate, a great cook, loyal, and a good friend.
Now am reviewing my history with this man and I am amazed how codependent and really blinded by love/hope/desire I was.
This summer I am enjoying the calm and the quiet. I am concentrating on my artwork and sculpture. Praying for cooler days and rain.