Chapter 5

I never challenge anyone’s personal walk with Christ. Trusting I will “know them by their fruit”. Gabriel claims to be a born again believer. I’ve been speculating, is he pawning artificial fruit, passing it off as the real thing? He once told my sister he had prayed for a woman like me to show up in his life. This was before I had ever said a word about praying for a man like him. He also told me that a tarot card reader said, “a queen would show up to help get the work done, but she’s not a romantic interest”. My symbol in the tarot deck is the Queen of Swords; Gabriel is the King of Hearts. I know these cards. They can and do reveal the future. If this reader herself had a “romantic interest” in Gabriel, why would she tell him the truth? A person can only give a reading if they have the spirit.The problem arises from which spirit you are in league with. Prophecy and discernment are gifts of grace. If you are gifted you do not need tarot cards. If you need the cards, you are in bondage to a demon spirit of divination. I myself was a reader until the Lord delivered me from witchcraft. I chose to give up the cards in favor of relying on the Holy Spirit to show me anything He wanted me to know. To date, I can still see.

The Spirit speaks to me in various ways. Most times in waking visions or dreams. Sometimes I just “know”, unable to find a reason for why I know. Kind of hard to describe in that I don’t hear voices. It’s like a kind of telepathy. I know it sounds crazy but that is how it works.

Think of it this way. If someone tells you, the bus arrives at 2:00 pm everyday you stand and wait. If you continue to wait day after day for a bus that never shows, well that’s crazy. But, what if the bus consistently arrives on schedule? My visions are manifest by the course of events. My bus always arrives on time. It’s not even about speaking things into existence. I speak with prior knowledge.

I’ve had a lot of dreams and visions concerning Gabriel. Sometimes it’s a sort of mind meld. When he told me he wanted a vest, I pulled out paper and pencil and literally drew him a picture of the images in his mind. Other times I get “videos” in my mind’s eye. The most surprising is the one where I am standing next to him when suddenly he snatches me into his left side making me a part of his body. Occasionally the vision is a little scrambled. I thought the refrigerator was going to break down. It turned out to be the water heater, a kind of round refrigerator in reverse mode. He accepts all this from me as a matter of course. It astonishes me. There have been few times in my life I was able to do this. Fewer still the people with who I could do it. Never has there been a time when it worked like it does with Gabriel. By God’s decree, Gabriel must be somebody special in my life. Otherwise, none of this stuff would work at all.

So there you have it. Not one to argue with the Holy Spirit, I have accepted Gabriel as a gift of grace from the Ancient of days. This is why I am so devoted to him. This is why I tolerate so much more from him then I would from anyone else. It turns out to be a burden. I have other options to invest my time and energy. Certainly, there are other men desiring to keep company with me. What am I supposed to do? You ever tried telling God, never mind.

He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember God blessed us both with answered prayers.

Chapter 4

Gabriel is upset that I called his mother a liar. I don’t know that she is lying so much as the facts she presents him with are not true. Besides his artistic pursuits, Gabriel maintains a blue collar 9-5 relying on his pension to weather old age gracfully. A pension is a poor man’s investment in the future. This man is incredibly talented and could be wealthy now but for his mother’s fear. If he does well he might leave her behind. If he does well she looks bad for not reaching her potential. Louisa claims I’m into Gabriel for his money. “A woman chooses a man for security”. Maybe she does. Personally, I’ve always stood on my own two feet. What Gabriel earns would be pocket change to some of my ex-boyfriends. I’m not a kept woman. I don’t need to be rescued. Money is a wonderful tool whereby you have increased options adding to the quality of your life. But you have got to have a life first. Money cannot buy me love, or peace for that matter.

Totally naive about Louisa’s fear of abandonment, Gabriel can’t figure out why every woman he brings home to momma is unfit. Louisa does and will continue to reject any woman he brings to her for approval because it means he might leave her. Gabriel is all she really has. This is not healthy. As his mother, you would think she would want him to meet his needs. And he does need a woman’s love. That is why he keeps trying. Louisa is trying to meet her need for love. That is why he keeps failing.

Scripture says, “therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and cleave unto his wife” (Genesis 2:24). In those days extended families lived in compounds. You didn’t just up and leave the compound. What this passage refers to is the emotional disconnect a healthy adult makes from his parents in order to establish an immediate family unit of his own. Parents grow old and die. Their legacy continues in the children they raise who in turn raise children of their own. And so the generations go on to prosper in thought and action. Inheritance is more than financial gain.

If Gabriel ever admits his mother had me all wrong, the foundations of his life would crumble. He would then have to ask himself, what else has she been wrong about. What else has she kept him from achieving? If my own mother is a hater what will the rest of the world do to me? Serious issues for a man already in crisis afraid of losing his mind.

At times, I did think Gabriel had lost his mind. The things he said and did made no sense, running contrary to his personal experience. Gabriel is not psychotic. He has abdicated his throne of judgment by allowing Louisa to co-opt his critical thought processes. Seemingly unaware of who or what he is, or what he believes, until she tells him. Many men are like that. Not knowing what to think until a woman tells them what to think. But Gabriel is very bright, unusually intelligent with a vibrant zest for life. I did expect more from him than the usual man.

He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember waiting for Gabriel, my king, to ascend his throne, establishing his own dominion.

Chapter 3

Gabriel Cates and Persephone Braun (aka Kate) met years ago while working the underground tunnels of the “Chute”. Their demons recognized each other immediately. Gabriel likes his women with big asses and big egos. Persephone likes being the center of attention. Each validates the other’s criteria.

She claims to be “happily married and pregnant”; steadfastly denying that she even knows a Gabriel Cates. Except I found them linked on an online social network. You can’t burn anything without leaving ashes. The day after I called Persephone, she updated her friends list, deleting Gabriel in the process. She also blocked my access. The date, February 12^th, clearly shows on her page. During our talk, Persephone tries to pump me for information. She wants to know, how old I am, do I feel used, have you gone to his job to talk to him? She then allows me to overhear a phone call to her dispatcher. Obscenely loud, she asks if there is a cashier named Gabriel Cates. I have told her his job description and it ain’t “cashier”. If she does not know the man, why would any of this matter? After dealing a few more tricks from her tarot deck, (she thought I was having an affair with her husband) we end the call. I can smell a lie a mile away. The stench was beginning to give me a headache.

Among Gabriel's "toys" is an impossibly large, black, strap on dildo. I remember thinking...what healthy woman could possibly accommodate such a thing. Then it hits me. He doesn't wear it. She does. The images in my mind begin to cascade. Furiously riding her from the rear, he slaps her, chokes her, she returns the favor by riding him. Both spewing guttural obscenities like a scene from some porno film I hope never to see. No wonder Persephone denies knowing him. No wonder he keeps her identity tucked away in the darkest corners of his mind. He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember wondering, what kind of demons cause such a disintegrated personality

Chapter 2

The other women in Gabriel’s life are beginning to see the changes in him. For the first time in who knows how long, Gabriel looks good. I have taught him how to lower his blood pressure without medication. Eating clean cuisine from scratch, he’s lost a few pounds. His mind is focused, able to get things done. I don’t think they like it very much. Thinking for himself makes it difficult to control Gabriel in the ways to which they have become accustomed.

His mother, Louisa, complains that she never sees him anymore. She takes it as a personal affront to her authority, believing that he spends all of his time with me. I tell her, he’s busy working on the show. Of course, she does not want to hear that. Louisa blames me for stealing Gabriel’s time. She is used to seeing him every day, now he’s only there a few times a week. I suffer her ire with grace. Gabriel loves his mother. I care about Gabriel, which includes helping him meet his mother’s needs. I prepare food for him to take to her house. In a skilled nursing facility recovering from surgery she was required to get dressed each morning as part of her therapy. Gabriel was so overwhelmed with worry he couldn’t find the clothing she needed. I used my personal resources, time and money to make sure she got what he said she wanted. I hate housework, but I scrubbed her floors, cleaned her kitchen, and laundered her clothing. All this in addition to keeping Gabriel’s home spotless, preparing his meals, doing his laundry, and running his company.

This company was a dream Gabriel had been kicking around for years before I met him. He kept talking about it, never really doing anything to make it happen. I’m always thinking of ways to “show” him how much he means to me. So one day after he left for his 9 to 5, I gathered together his personal information, dug into my savings, went online and purchased the articles of corporation. Went he got home I told him I had an early birthday present for him. Archangel Enterprises LLC was now a legal entity registered in the state of Pennsylvania. Curiously, Gabriel was trying to contain his joy. At the time, I had yet to realize how effectively Louisa was undermining my efforts on behalf of her son. However, she was not the only one.

He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember being installed at his mother's house while he is supposedly at work. His mother is in a nursing home recuperating from a surgery that is threatening to exact a toll on her aging body. I remember, being adrift in a sea of something not quite right, an ocean of anxiety, a maelstrom of dis-ease. Peace, be still. Call him just to be sure.
"Gabriel, are you okay?" tentatively, intrinsically afraid of the answer.
"Everything is fine" he assures me. Still dissatisfied, I call him several times. He's hard to reach. He's "at work". But I need to know. I need to know that he is safe, mind and body intact.
"For real, for real, I'm fine, everything's okay, listen....I need to get back to work. I'll pick you up when I'm done."
I've had this feeling before. Once, when my brother was murdered. Again, when my home had been invaded by rowdy men looking for a good time. Gabriel knows I have second sight. I know Gabriel is lying. Nothing to do now but meditate.
Her image slams into my consciousness like a freight car derailed. "Kiss me Kate", The Taming o the Shrew". She who practices the witchcraft and tarot cards he has begun to accuse me of. She who pisses in his ear reinforcing his psychobabble tantrums. Medium height, full figured, with wide hips. Her eyes a curious shade of brown ordinarily found in Negroes from the Midwest. She who allows him to unleash his bodily functions on her like a tortured man uses a sheep.
The evidence is apparent only to me. Our freshly made bed now reeks of her envy and his greed. I cannot sleep here, but Gabriel wants to do the "bunny hop". As usual, I acquiesce, ever ready to give him whatever he asks for. I end up sobbing, retiring to another room, out of sight, out of bind.
This is spiritual warfare. Kate, I'm sure, thinks she has won. However, if he does this to me who gave him light, love, and laughter, what will he eventually do to her, his barnyard lover? They deserve each other. I deserve better.
Yes, he claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember what Kate will learn to regret.

Chapter 1

This blog was created as an attempt to sort out the crash and burn feelings of a failed relationship. He won't talk to me, so I've decided to talk to the world. My story is not unique, so if you think you recognize yourself or someone you know, please, check your perceptions. All names have been changed to protect the privacy of those involved.

He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember he showed up on Valentine's Day, like to much good chocolate on an empty stomach. "You have beautiful eyes, and the kind of mouth a man wants to kiss. Um .....Can I give you a ride home?" Chocoholic that I am, of course I took the bait. We had some wonderful conversation during that twenty minute ride. He talked about his work as a writer, his passion for creating graphic art, he even played a music CD that he had produced. I was impressed, which is not an easy thing to do.Reluctant to part company and as a way of showing my gratitude, I invited him in for a cup of coffee. We sat in the kitchen talking for about five hours nonstop. I loved the honesty of his expression. The look of unabashed vulnerability in his eyes was intoxicating. A really nice guy, I thought. This is someone I'd like to get to know a lot better. I wasn't romantically inclined at the time. Every man I meet is not my next husband. Still he might be nice to hang out with, go to a movie, have dinner maybe. He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember wondering..... why is this attractive, well spoken man single?

Gabriel reminds me of an africanized version of the cartoon Tasmanian Devil. Broad in the shoulders, slim through the hips, a whirlwind of frenzied activity. He has asked me to proofread some of his screenplays. Impatiently, he calls me several times during the day, all week long, to find out if I'm finished. He wants to know, immediately, what's my opinion, would I buy a ticket to see it, will I help him get this work done? I laugh and agree to work for him. The man is talented. Tyler Perry better watch his back! He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember he turned to me to get the job done.

"I don't want no girlfriend", is what he said to me. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I know what I am and I am not the "girlfriend" type. A man either marries me or leaves me alone. I do date, but I don't sleep around. Every man I keep company with is not my next husband. We've been hanging out for a couple of weeks, and I admit, I like the guy, but not like that. As usual we are in my kitchen having dinner before Gabriel goes to work. An easy habit we've fallen into.

"Actually, I haven't been involved with anyone in about five years. Not for lack of opportunity. I just have yet to meet a man that was worth the trouble."

"Yeah, well like I said, I don't want no girlfriend, but you can kiss me goodnight if you want to."

I stifle the urge to laugh. "If I was looking what makes you think it would be you?" Later, Gabriel reaches for me as I push him out the front door. "Not tonight, I'm not ready for all this." Really I'm not. I think of myself as a queen. A woman of power with her own dominion. I want a king. A man worthy to submit myself to. But I begin to wonder, is Gabriel the king? He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember he reached out for me.

During the past six weeks, Gabriel and I have become inseparable. The man won't let me out of his sight. He takes most of his meals at my place, goes to work, then returns to take me to sleep at his place. We have no chaperon except this strange cat with too many toes. I remain fully clothed as Gabriel chastely holds my hand all night long. He brings me breakfast in bed every morning. Steaming hot green tea, cool crunchy rice cakes, fresh fruit on the side. Conversations between us have gotten even easier. Often able to finish each others sentences, we joke about being separate entities with a shared mind. When he tells me of his dream, I almost fall out of bed. I had the same dream. Second sight is second nature to me. I've always been able to "see" but never anything like this. Gabriel accepts my psi abilities as a matter of fact. My feelings about this man are beginning to change. He claims I am obsessed, bu I remember. I remember Gabriel took me to his bed, taking me to his heart.

Next time Gabriel picks me up, I toss a few things into a bag and go. I've been spending days on end at his house. He presents me with an assignment when he leaves for work. I present him with results when he arrives home. I've also begun turning his house into a home. I made new kitchen curtains by hand. Loving every minute of it. Because I now realize, I love him. Damn. Time for the "talk".

The talk is about responsible expression of sexuality. In this day of AIDS, "down low", and other gifts that keep on giving, I believe you can only make good choices based on good information. I am not promiscuous or casual with my sexuality. I'm also allergic to latex condoms.We have had an exchange of open communication since the first day we met. I don't expect anything different now. Now I'm reaching for him.

Sitting at Gabriel's dining room table I tell him how I feel about him. I also acknowledge that I understood his position from the very beginning. He "don't want no girlfriend". I'm a big girl, I can weather disappointment. If I am not what he wants, he needs to let me go. It's as simple as that. Gabriel takes me upstairs where I end up speaking in tongue.
He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember acknowledging his option to choose.