I have been struggling with how to put this here.
I thought about it a long time last night and have decided to put it plainly:
Stacy is in rehab.
She has been there a month. It is a six month program and she has five months to go. The Bowie night happened the weekend after he died back in January. I have been holding off writing about it.
She is allowed two visitors on her “ok” list. Visitation is twice a week. Her mom visits on Wednesdays, and I visit on Saturdays.
The circumstances and gory details of how this transpired for her, I am not going to tell right now. I have a feeling she might want me to write about it, so will ask her this weekend. Suffice to say she has some personal demons to deal with. She made a conscious decision to change her life and is undergoing that metamorphosis. I am proud of her for it.
Henry has pointed out that it is lucky timing for me. This will give Stacy and I time to think about what is between us. She can work on her issues, and I can focus on getting divorced and spend some time working on my own brain.
We met in reverse and our relationship is growing in an unexpected direction. As many of you know, I met Stacy through SA. She was originally one of a few sugars I hooked up with. There are some good posts back in the blog last year about our early dates. Check out the ‘Stacy’ topic.
When I met her in person for the first time, we were naked and having sex within half an hour of her walking in the door. She introduced me to BDSM, how to tie a girl up properly and the importance of aftercare.
She is a FetLifer with a large following that includes slaves of her own. Very few people know where she is right now, and guys are probably still sending gifts to her mom’s house. She introduced me to that eye opening world. If there are any FL’s reading this, you can search me there and see that she is my only FL friend. I have re-posted some of the more erotic stories over there.
Nowadays, it is if we are courting in the 1850’s. I get to visit for two hours. We spend that time in the courtyard of the treatment center. We sit on a bench and hold hands. I bring her necessities, stuff to read and coloring books. She is not allowed TV, internet or phone.
The only communication is through hand written letters. I have received several from her. I’ve saved them all and re-read them constantly. Conversely, she is only allowed to read my letters in her counselor’s office. The sole exception is the Valentine’s day card I gave her, which she keeps in a drawer under her bed.
To be allowed to visit, I have to attend a support group meeting each week at the center. She was concerned that this would be too much of a sacrifice on my part. Actually, it has been a therapeutic for me. I come from a long line of family that has battled with addiction. I have avoided it through the unexpected help of various people in my life who took an interest and gave me direction. Now I can pay some of that Karma back, plus support someone I care about.
Ok so, there you have it. Time for me to start work for the day. More thoughts on this to come.