I wanted to serve some kind of purpose this weekend in Minnesota. I wanted to go visit "Torrie" and actually have a reason to be there besides just being there for her. Whether it was a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, or just someone to talk to, I wanted to spend those two days there with her doing something to make her feel better.
Making love served the purpose.
We spent Friday evening in my hotel room together, and that was more time with Torrie than I thought I was going to have. She was shaky, driving somewhat erratically and babbling at times, but it was understandable. There was other drama going on besides her stepsister Jody dying: The father of Jody's children was in town and wanted immediate custody of the kids. Those same kids wouldn't have a final visitation with their mother because her current husband for some unknown reason had her remains cremated without anyone in her family having a say over this. And to top it all off, Torrie's ex-husband, who she had not seen since 1997, paid an unexpected visit as well. So I think that I came to town at the perfect time, so that Torrie would have somewhere to go to escape the situation. In my uneducated opinion, the sex and togetherness that we had was a great stress release for her. She even said at one point afterwards, "You don't know how bad I needed that." The funeral was Saturday at three o'clock, and the hours before were spent intensely. She came back around seven, to my surprise. She was supposed to join her family on a 45-minute trip to a prison to see a brother who was unable to attend the funeral. But since it would only be a five-minute visit due to the rules of the prison, and because it had already been a long day and longer week, Torrie skipped that meeting. Instead, we ate dinner and went to bed. Sunday morning was spent physically draining every drop out of the remaining time we had together, as my flight back was at 1:50P. I felt very good about things when I left. I felt that I had done the right thing and supported Torrie in a time of need, and I felt that she appreciated my efforts.
I don't know when the next time will be that I will see Torrie, but I do know that we have become very close, and that our first night togther on New Year's appears to be a springboard to a long companionship, as unlikely as that would have seemed. I care very much for her, and I think that I have a special place in her heart, as well as on her body. I've never been complemented so much in bed before. She makes me feel very wanted, and she knows how much I want her, so we'll see how things go. But everything looks great so far.
I have started my semester from hell--four classes, all at night, after attending school last semester for the first time since high school ten years ago. What the hell was I thinking? I wrote down all the dates for papers and tests from all four classes, and now my datebook is littered with nothing but little notes about this research paper due and that test taking place on that date, with the hotel information for Kentucky Derby weekend May 7 thrown in. I'll be very busy, so if I ignore anyone or don't contact anyone, don't worry, I haven't become an underground hermit that shuns the rest of the world.
I'll let Michael Jackson keep that spot in society to himself.