The Pretty Kitty is officially part of a pair. I have a boyfriend, really completely officially. He loves me and I love him, but we can’t be together. I’m a little heartbroken, but I know it will all resolve with patience.
My man is in prison at the moment, in another state to me, so to visit him would be quite complicated and epic. We’ve never met in person, but we’ve known each other for years, since a long time before he was in prison.
We met in a chat room (God help me! It’s true!) when I was either still seventeen years old, or barely eighteen. I can’t really remember because, if I’m honest – and I usually am – I didn’t think there was anything particularly special about him back then. We chatted there about once a week (would have been more, but I had no internet connection at home) for several months, and then finally he asked if he could have my phone number. I gave him my mobile number and he sent me text messages every day. I answered every message he sent, and really started going through phone credit! After a while he asked if he could call me, I told him that of course he could. He started calling me once every week, and sending messages every other day. Eventually he just called me every day, unless he was busy in which case he would send a message saying he couldn’t call. If a day went by when I didn’t hear from him, I got anxious. Three days and I worried he didn’t like me anymore. He asked me if I would be his girlfriend, even though we lived so far apart, and I said to him, from the bottom of my heart, that there was nothing in this world I wanted more!
He still called me or sent me messages every day (unless he was very busy. As I got more secure with him, I didn’t freak out so easily over a few days with no phone contact). One day I didn’t hear from him. I thought nothing of it. The day turned into a week and I started to worry. The week turned into a month and I was inconsolable. That month turned into almost ten months, and a letter arrived from him.
The letter said he was in prison. He explained to me what had happened (I won’t go into it here). He told me he hadn’t contacted me sooner because he didn’t know how to tell me. He said he still loved me and thought about me every day.
I meditated hard on whether I wanted to answer his letter, and what I would say. After a week or two, I answered him. I had another boyfriend by now. I told him this, but I said I’d still write to him if he wanted. We were friends again. I knew I could tell him anything; I always had been able to. When I was having trouble in life,, love or other disasters, I’d just write him a letter.
He would always reply. I broke up with my boyfriend, and I told him all about it. e gave me comfort. After a little while, he told me he still loved me. He asked me to be his girl again, and I said no. He asked me a few times, but I wasn’t ready for another boyfriend. Recently I sat and read a pile of his old letters. I realised just how much he does love me, and I agreed to be his lady.
Sometimes he can call me now, too. We talk for twelve minutes every month, always on a Saturday. Mostly I talk and he listens, because as he says, not much changes where he is.
It’s about another four years before he gets out, but then we never need to be apart again.
Signed with Love,
The Pretty Kitty.