Re: Letting go of Zach--Ron and Gordy

[Guest guest]

Ron:

Thanks for your support. You know, I enjoy reading your words too.

While I was writing, I sat here crying at times, laughing at others

(the Eva Longoria stuff is too funny to me).

The laughter and tears don't scare me anymore. Especially the tears

because sometimes we just need to get it out.

After a good laugh and a good cry, I ran 10 miles in the rain. It

was fantastic, and after a good nap, I'm feeling great. So guess

what? I'm going dancing tonight!

Yee haw!

I appreciate everyone's support. You can't know how much it means to

me because in so many ways I'm still that little fat boy who was

always picked last for the team. That's why support from you and

Gordy has extra special significance to me.

Take care,

Francisco

>

> Francisco, I really enjoy reading your stories. Knowing they are

actually your life though, makes it even better. You are a true

Wordsmith! I am happy that your meeting with Zach went as well as it

did though.

>

> Ron

> Letting go of

Zach

>

>

> Hello everyone:

>

> Zach, my ex and I met last night to settle the terms of our

divorce.

> It's not a divorce in the eyes of the law, but in my heart, I

know

> that I'm hurting.

>

> Last night was actually pleasant. Dare I say that we had a good

> time? There were so many times during the night that my memories

> were stirred-the memories of 11 years together.

>

> We met a 1 Post Street, across the street from Crocker Galleria.

> That address is Zach's old office. Just like he no longer works

> there, we are no longer a couple. We saw each other from across

the

> street, and there was an awkward hello, each of us not knowing

> whether to shake hands or hug. So we did neither.

>

> We walked to Kearny to catch the 15 to North Beach, but there was

a

> water main break, and the traffic was a mess. We waited and

waited.

> Zach, a native of Taiwan, said, " There's the Orient Express, "

making

> reference to the 30 line that goes right through the heart of

China

> Town. I laughed, " Did you make up that name? " He said, " No, all

my

> native San Franciscan co-workers know it by that name. "

>

> After another 15 minutes with traffic even more snarled, we got

on

> an " Orient Express " and got off at Columbus and Stockton, where

China

> Town meets Little Italy. We crossed Columbus to catch the 15,

but

> right behind us was " Z. Cioccolato-the Sweetest Place in North

> Beach. " By this time, Zach and I were more at ease, the

conversation

> flowing between us easily. I noticed that our senses of humor

were

> still in synch, and we still knew just how to make the other

laugh.

> That collection of 11 years of shared experiences-that deep

> connection-is, I now realize, what I miss the most. I miss that

> unspoken understanding that couples develop, the shared language

that

> only those two share.

>

> We entered Z. Cioccolato and the woman who, two nights prior, had

> helped me pick out and wrap Chip's gift (the white chocolate chip

> macadamia nut fudge) recognized me. I said to her, " He loved the

> fudge. " She said, " I enjoyed wrapping it! The chocolate lips in

the

> bow was a great suggestion. " By this time, Zach was looking at

the

> display of some 30-odd different types of fudge, and at Z.

> Cioccolato, they let you sample before you buy. He bought

vanilla,

> maple and tiger band (caramel, vanilla, chocolate and peanut

> butter). It was actually like old times, shopping together,

talking

> and laughing.

>

> When we finally got to my place, I had my dinner while Zach

watched a

> tape of Saturday Night Live and spent time petting and playing

with

> our kitty, Nandito. He spoke softly and tenderly to Nandito in

> Chinese, all that loving, little baby talk that I hadn't heard in

> such a long time. He called him by his Chinese name, Xiao Lao Hu-

> Little Tiger. And then I heard him say in English, " Daddy misses

> you. Do you miss Daddy? " I could see from where I was that

Nandito

> was resting his head on Zach's thigh, looking up at him. " You

> haven't forgotten me, have you, Xiao Lao Hu? " I could hear

Nandito

> purring the loud and rumbling purr of a happy cat.

>

> Eva Longoria was the host of Saturday Night Live, and here's

where

> our new, separate lives came into the picture. Zach

> watches " Desperate Housewives. " I've never seen the show, and I

> didn't know that he watches it.

>

> Nandito decided to use the litter box for number two. I

> said, " That's his new trick. He waits until I come home to do

that.

> It never fails. He must hold it all day. " Just then, as the

> Littermaid Litterbox started making its noises to clean itself,

Eva

> Longoria was doing a fake commercial, talking about a joke

product

> called " Firmium, the best diarrhea medicine in Hollywood. " She

> talked about how, as a Hollywood Star, it was important not

to " let

> your fudgy hostages free " and the difficulties with " chocolate

> drizzles. " By this time, Zach and I were laughing hard.

>

> Nandito had just stunk up the place, and here was this beautiful

> woman on TV joking about diarrhea. She was trying not to laugh

as

> the audience went wild with laughter. Then she said, " During

almost

> the entire first season of Desperate Housewives, I was human

espresso

> machine. " And she went on the say that it's difficult to do a

sexy

> love scene when you're afraid of releasing your chocolate

submarines.

>

> We were laughing so hard that Zach had to get out his inhaler.

>

> I dropped Zach off in Japantown, one our old haunts. As I

watched

> him cross the street in my rearview mirror, I wondered, " Will he

be

> having dinner at Osakaya? Will he be eating alone? " And then I

> couldn't see him anymore, and I was jolted back into the

> present. " It's none of my business anymore, " I said to myself as

I

> drove off.

>

> I was glad to know that Zach is doing well, that he's managed

quite

> well without me. As the former care-taker, people pleaser that I

had

> always been, I was riddled with guilt when I had finally broke

things

> off. I worried about how he would make it without me. I worried

> about how I would make it without him. We've both come out the

other

> end of all that pain and suffering still liking each other, but

> knowing that our lives needed to go in different directions.

>

> I still love him, and I always will in a way. I wish him the

best,

> and I'm glad that, while painful, the truth is that we are better

> apart. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do for someone is

to

> let them go.

>

> I really need to go for a run to clear my head.

>

> Thanks for reading.

>

> Francisco

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

[Guest guest]

Francisco... Wow, I can so relate to the moments you shared with Zach, and i hope that at some point, Steve and I will have the opportunity to do that. He's still hurt, although we've spoken a couple of times recently. I called him about my grandmother's death, and he left a message where he said, "I'm so sorry, hon". He always called me "hon" in tender moments, with a very soft voice, and hearing it just broke me into zillions of little pieces. He sent a huge and gorgeous bouquet to the funeral, and wrote, "Thank you for being such a wonderful grandmother to me." His own grandparents died before he was born, so he was so thrilled to have my grandparents. I had told him that he was welcome to come to Arizona for the funeral, but he didn't feel he could handle seeing me and the whole family. Too many memories, too painful. He was a pallbearer at my grandfather's funeral a year

and a half ago. LIke you, I shared 12 years with Steve. So many memories are created, so many shared moments...so much knowledge of one another. When I was in Paris, I saw this cool old plaque, written in French with a Jaguar E-type on it. That's his favorite car, and I really wanted to buy it for him...but I thought the French language might cause him too much pain...and I know that I can't keep buying him little gifts. That's not our relationship anymore. But, it's just that I KNOW him so much, and I knew that he would love it. Similarly, when I was Christmas shopping...it was much easier for me to choose a gift for Olivier than it was for me to buy something for . I know what Olivier likes, I know his tastes, I know his body and what kind of clothes look good on him. Whereas, I'm just getting to know . I'm glad you had that time with Zach, that the happy memories could be revitalized, and that you could still feel ok and right about your decision, Francisco. You are right...sometimes, the kindest thing to do is to let somebody go. But it hurts. Growth hurts. Love you, Robynnmanisodream wrote: Ron:Thanks for your support. You know, I enjoy reading your words too.While I was writing, I sat here crying at times, laughing at others (the Eva Longoria stuff is too funny to me).The laughter and tears don't scare me anymore. Especially the tears because sometimes we just need to get it out.After a good laugh and a good cry, I ran 10 miles in the rain. It was fantastic, and

after a good nap, I'm feeling great. So guess what? I'm going dancing tonight!Yee haw!I appreciate everyone's support. You can't know how much it means to me because in so many ways I'm still that little fat boy who was always picked last for the team. That's why support from you and Gordy has extra special significance to me.Take care,Francisco >> Francisco, I really enjoy reading your stories. Knowing they are actually your life though, makes it even better. You are a true Wordsmith! I am happy that your meeting with Zach went as well as it did though.> > Ron> Letting go of Zach> > > Hello everyone:> > Zach, my ex and I met last night to settle the terms of our divorce. > It's not a divorce in the eyes of the law, but in my heart, I know > that I'm hurting.> > Last night was actually pleasant. Dare I say that we had a good > time? There were so many times during the night that my memories > were stirred-the memories of 11 years together.> > We met a 1 Post Street, across the street from Crocker Galleria. > That address is Zach's old office. Just like he no longer works > there, we are no longer a couple. We saw each other from across the

> street, and there was an awkward hello, each of us not knowing > whether to shake hands or hug. So we did neither.> > We walked to Kearny to catch the 15 to North Beach, but there was a > water main break, and the traffic was a mess. We waited and waited. > Zach, a native of Taiwan, said, "There's the Orient Express," making > reference to the 30 line that goes right through the heart of China > Town. I laughed, "Did you make up that name?" He said, "No, all my > native San Franciscan co-workers know it by that name."> > After another 15 minutes with traffic even more snarled, we got on > an "Orient Express" and got off at Columbus and Stockton, where China > Town meets Little Italy. We crossed

Columbus to catch the 15, but > right behind us was "Z. Cioccolato-the Sweetest Place in North > Beach." By this time, Zach and I were more at ease, the conversation > flowing between us easily. I noticed that our senses of humor were > still in synch, and we still knew just how to make the other laugh. > That collection of 11 years of shared experiences-that deep > connection-is, I now realize, what I miss the most. I miss that > unspoken understanding that couples develop, the shared language that > only those two share.> > We entered Z. Cioccolato and the woman who, two nights prior, had > helped me pick out and wrap Chip's gift (the white chocolate chip > macadamia nut fudge) recognized me. I said to her, "He loved

the > fudge." She said, "I enjoyed wrapping it! The chocolate lips in the > bow was a great suggestion." By this time, Zach was looking at the > display of some 30-odd different types of fudge, and at Z. > Cioccolato, they let you sample before you buy. He bought vanilla, > maple and tiger band (caramel, vanilla, chocolate and peanut > butter). It was actually like old times, shopping together, talking > and laughing.> > When we finally got to my place, I had my dinner while Zach watched a > tape of Saturday Night Live and spent time petting and playing with > our kitty, Nandito. He spoke softly and tenderly to Nandito in > Chinese, all that loving, little baby talk that I hadn't heard in >

such a long time. He called him by his Chinese name, Xiao Lao Hu-> Little Tiger. And then I heard him say in English, "Daddy misses > you. Do you miss Daddy?" I could see from where I was that Nandito > was resting his head on Zach's thigh, looking up at him. "You > haven't forgotten me, have you, Xiao Lao Hu?" I could hear Nandito > purring the loud and rumbling purr of a happy cat.> > Eva Longoria was the host of Saturday Night Live, and here's where > our new, separate lives came into the picture. Zach > watches "Desperate Housewives." I've never seen the show, and I > didn't know that he watches it.> > Nandito decided to use the litter box for number two. I > said, "That's his new trick.

He waits until I come home to do that. > It never fails. He must hold it all day." Just then, as the > Littermaid Litterbox started making its noises to clean itself, Eva > Longoria was doing a fake commercial, talking about a joke product > called "Firmium, the best diarrhea medicine in Hollywood." She > talked about how, as a Hollywood Star, it was important not to "let > your fudgy hostages free" and the difficulties with "chocolate > drizzles." By this time, Zach and I were laughing hard.> > Nandito had just stunk up the place, and here was this beautiful > woman on TV joking about diarrhea. She was trying not to laugh as > the audience went wild with laughter. Then she said, "During almost > the

entire first season of Desperate Housewives, I was human espresso > machine." And she went on the say that it's difficult to do a sexy > love scene when you're afraid of releasing your chocolate submarines.> > We were laughing so hard that Zach had to get out his inhaler. > > I dropped Zach off in Japantown, one our old haunts. As I watched > him cross the street in my rearview mirror, I wondered, "Will he be > having dinner at Osakaya? Will he be eating alone?" And then I > couldn't see him anymore, and I was jolted back into the > present. "It's none of my business anymore," I said to myself as I > drove off.> > I was glad to know that Zach is doing well, that he's managed quite > well without

me. As the former care-taker, people pleaser that I had > always been, I was riddled with guilt when I had finally broke things > off. I worried about how he would make it without me. I worried > about how I would make it without him. We've both come out the other > end of all that pain and suffering still liking each other, but > knowing that our lives needed to go in different directions.> > I still love him, and I always will in a way. I wish him the best, > and I'm glad that, while painful, the truth is that we are better > apart. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do for someone is to > let them go.> > I really need to go for a run to clear my head.> > Thanks for reading.>

> Francisco> > > > > > >

[Guest guest]

Francisco... Wow, I can so relate to the moments you shared with Zach, and i hope that at some point, Steve and I will have the opportunity to do that. He's still hurt, although we've spoken a couple of times recently. I called him about my grandmother's death, and he left a message where he said, "I'm so sorry, hon". He always called me "hon" in tender moments, with a very soft voice, and hearing it just broke me into zillions of little pieces. He sent a huge and gorgeous bouquet to the funeral, and wrote, "Thank you for being such a wonderful grandmother to me." His own grandparents died before he was born, so he was so thrilled to have my grandparents. I had told him that he was welcome to come to Arizona for the funeral, but he didn't feel he could handle seeing me and the whole family. Too many memories, too painful. He was a pallbearer at my grandfather's funeral a year

and a half ago. LIke you, I shared 12 years with Steve. So many memories are created, so many shared moments...so much knowledge of one another. When I was in Paris, I saw this cool old plaque, written in French with a Jaguar E-type on it. That's his favorite car, and I really wanted to buy it for him...but I thought the French language might cause him too much pain...and I know that I can't keep buying him little gifts. That's not our relationship anymore. But, it's just that I KNOW him so much, and I knew that he would love it. Similarly, when I was Christmas shopping...it was much easier for me to choose a gift for Olivier than it was for me to buy something for . I know what Olivier likes, I know his tastes, I know his body and what kind of clothes look good on him. Whereas, I'm just getting to know . I'm glad you had that time with Zach, that the happy memories could be revitalized, and that you could still feel ok and right about your decision, Francisco. You are right...sometimes, the kindest thing to do is to let somebody go. But it hurts. Growth hurts. Love you, Robynnmanisodream wrote: Ron:Thanks for your support. You know, I enjoy reading your words too.While I was writing, I sat here crying at times, laughing at others (the Eva Longoria stuff is too funny to me).The laughter and tears don't scare me anymore. Especially the tears because sometimes we just need to get it out.After a good laugh and a good cry, I ran 10 miles in the rain. It was fantastic, and

after a good nap, I'm feeling great. So guess what? I'm going dancing tonight!Yee haw!I appreciate everyone's support. You can't know how much it means to me because in so many ways I'm still that little fat boy who was always picked last for the team. That's why support from you and Gordy has extra special significance to me.Take care,Francisco >> Francisco, I really enjoy reading your stories. Knowing they are actually your life though, makes it even better. You are a true Wordsmith! I am happy that your meeting with Zach went as well as it did though.> > Ron> Letting go of Zach> > > Hello everyone:> > Zach, my ex and I met last night to settle the terms of our divorce. > It's not a divorce in the eyes of the law, but in my heart, I know > that I'm hurting.> > Last night was actually pleasant. Dare I say that we had a good > time? There were so many times during the night that my memories > were stirred-the memories of 11 years together.> > We met a 1 Post Street, across the street from Crocker Galleria. > That address is Zach's old office. Just like he no longer works > there, we are no longer a couple. We saw each other from across the

> street, and there was an awkward hello, each of us not knowing > whether to shake hands or hug. So we did neither.> > We walked to Kearny to catch the 15 to North Beach, but there was a > water main break, and the traffic was a mess. We waited and waited. > Zach, a native of Taiwan, said, "There's the Orient Express," making > reference to the 30 line that goes right through the heart of China > Town. I laughed, "Did you make up that name?" He said, "No, all my > native San Franciscan co-workers know it by that name."> > After another 15 minutes with traffic even more snarled, we got on > an "Orient Express" and got off at Columbus and Stockton, where China > Town meets Little Italy. We crossed

Columbus to catch the 15, but > right behind us was "Z. Cioccolato-the Sweetest Place in North > Beach." By this time, Zach and I were more at ease, the conversation > flowing between us easily. I noticed that our senses of humor were > still in synch, and we still knew just how to make the other laugh. > That collection of 11 years of shared experiences-that deep > connection-is, I now realize, what I miss the most. I miss that > unspoken understanding that couples develop, the shared language that > only those two share.> > We entered Z. Cioccolato and the woman who, two nights prior, had > helped me pick out and wrap Chip's gift (the white chocolate chip > macadamia nut fudge) recognized me. I said to her, "He loved

the > fudge." She said, "I enjoyed wrapping it! The chocolate lips in the > bow was a great suggestion." By this time, Zach was looking at the > display of some 30-odd different types of fudge, and at Z. > Cioccolato, they let you sample before you buy. He bought vanilla, > maple and tiger band (caramel, vanilla, chocolate and peanut > butter). It was actually like old times, shopping together, talking > and laughing.> > When we finally got to my place, I had my dinner while Zach watched a > tape of Saturday Night Live and spent time petting and playing with > our kitty, Nandito. He spoke softly and tenderly to Nandito in > Chinese, all that loving, little baby talk that I hadn't heard in >

such a long time. He called him by his Chinese name, Xiao Lao Hu-> Little Tiger. And then I heard him say in English, "Daddy misses > you. Do you miss Daddy?" I could see from where I was that Nandito > was resting his head on Zach's thigh, looking up at him. "You > haven't forgotten me, have you, Xiao Lao Hu?" I could hear Nandito > purring the loud and rumbling purr of a happy cat.> > Eva Longoria was the host of Saturday Night Live, and here's where > our new, separate lives came into the picture. Zach > watches "Desperate Housewives." I've never seen the show, and I > didn't know that he watches it.> > Nandito decided to use the litter box for number two. I > said, "That's his new trick.

He waits until I come home to do that. > It never fails. He must hold it all day." Just then, as the > Littermaid Litterbox started making its noises to clean itself, Eva > Longoria was doing a fake commercial, talking about a joke product > called "Firmium, the best diarrhea medicine in Hollywood." She > talked about how, as a Hollywood Star, it was important not to "let > your fudgy hostages free" and the difficulties with "chocolate > drizzles." By this time, Zach and I were laughing hard.> > Nandito had just stunk up the place, and here was this beautiful > woman on TV joking about diarrhea. She was trying not to laugh as > the audience went wild with laughter. Then she said, "During almost > the

entire first season of Desperate Housewives, I was human espresso > machine." And she went on the say that it's difficult to do a sexy > love scene when you're afraid of releasing your chocolate submarines.> > We were laughing so hard that Zach had to get out his inhaler. > > I dropped Zach off in Japantown, one our old haunts. As I watched > him cross the street in my rearview mirror, I wondered, "Will he be > having dinner at Osakaya? Will he be eating alone?" And then I > couldn't see him anymore, and I was jolted back into the > present. "It's none of my business anymore," I said to myself as I > drove off.> > I was glad to know that Zach is doing well, that he's managed quite > well without

me. As the former care-taker, people pleaser that I had > always been, I was riddled with guilt when I had finally broke things > off. I worried about how he would make it without me. I worried > about how I would make it without him. We've both come out the other > end of all that pain and suffering still liking each other, but > knowing that our lives needed to go in different directions.> > I still love him, and I always will in a way. I wish him the best, > and I'm glad that, while painful, the truth is that we are better > apart. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do for someone is to > let them go.> > I really need to go for a run to clear my head.> > Thanks for reading.>

> Francisco> > > > > > >