I will try to make this standalone, since not all readers will get to my other stories.
I am a Doctor, 50 years young now. I am still in just fine shape, thank you very much! At 5'5" and 118 pounds, I still get nice looks from men when I am fixed up just a bit.
I just spent my very first Thanksgiving day alone. It was by choice, I had no place I wanted to be, but here with my late husband, Ted. His remains sit in a fancy Urn on my shelf, somehow that gives me comfort.
You would need to know Ted to understand. He was every woman's dream! Big, strong, I was always safe with him. Handsome in rugged way, not like the pretty boys that get all the attention in the movies. Put Ted in the same room with other men, and the ladies all headed for Ted, it never failed.
I saw him get in a couple of scraps, his training gave him the abilty to just destroy someone if he chose. But he would do just enough to contain any problem, trying not to hurt them seriously. I saw him get taken down once, ending up on his back as a man pummeled at him, he just moved enough to ease the blows, made a couple of moves and it was over, that easy. He didn't even get angry.
He went straight at a man with a gun one day, got himself shot in the process. He did it to save a lady from a rapist, never a thought for himself.
I remember watching, terrified, as he leaped to almost certain death to try and save a little girl caught in the water. Somehow he managed to save her, then others saved him. It was obvious he would have given his life for a little girl he didn't even know, again, no thought for himself.
He played music and sang, his husky voice both sweet and male. Everyone always stopped and listened when he picked up a guitar.
In nearly 2 decades, I never saw him raise his voice in anger. He would look at me, and all I ever wanted was to climb inside him, have him inside me, become one mashed together. I can't do the words, this was the love that was beyond anything normal. I do know I would have died to save him, and many of his friends would have done the same.
Read his stories if you get a chance, most are true, although he did try a few fantasies that weren't. One can always tell, those did poorly in the voting.
I went back and reread what I have written myself. I can almost hear Ted's voice, "rambling" he would say. Well, I never pretended to be a writer, and Ted always did say to just tell the story like you would to a friend.
I was sitting in my chair with my thoughts, watching TV talking about the President going to Iraq, like I cared much about that. It did hit me that it was something Ted would do if he was in that position.
I have been hearing Ted's voice, clear as a bell. One song he wrote and used to sing all the time sticks in my head.
"...and I'm lonely, I need someone to talk to, I'm lonely, I need someone like you..."
So something made me get up and come here to write. These are things that happened, some I neglected to share with my husband. Somehow I feel that by writing it down, it is like finally telling him.
I work for a local HMO. I do health appraisals..I love the work, and since I am strongly voyeuristic, combined with some exhibitionistic tendencies, I get lots of opportunities.