I shall name him....

Tony Bologna. Thats my pet name for my honey-bunny. My shnook-ums. My sweetie pie. I know, I hear the gags already. But - I don't care. He's a good man.

I met him many years ago. He was my Manager and I was a recent HS Grad and really didn't have much going for me in the workplace except my sunny-disposition (yes - I have one - well, every once in a while).

Well - he saw something in me. Behind my Sally Jesse Rafael glasses and payless shoes. He gave me opportunities that no other employer would even dream of placing me in. For this, I am grateful.

Time passed and we went our separate ways to other businesses. Always keeping in contact as we both stayed in the same field. He was someone I always called friend. When money was tight for me or when we really needed some guidance and help, he was always there. He taught me how to play golf (a hobby I miss) and how to portray myself as a serious businessperson.

Well, as luck would have it about 6 years ago we both found ourselves in a place where we were in failed marriages and our friendship flourished into a romantic whirlwind. It wasnt easy. Speculation, peering eyes over the eyeglasses and whispers were heard. Blatant finger pointing and blame was screamed. But - here we are many years later. Together and strong - while our "others" have been thru a string of relationships. Why? We still have that core of friendship. He is my biggest fan - I am his. He is proud of me everyday and tells me so. He makes me feel so safe when I feel small and fragile. He gives me the strength every day to get up and keep on moving ahead. He tells me I am pretty. He is a good role model to my daughter and although he is not her "real" Dad you would think he is when she starts talking about boys and he makes a real funny face like my Dad used to make. Most importantly - He loves her as much as he loves me

Why am I vomiting my soul on this thing? Who knows. No one knows it exists. I guess it's because when I was younger - I didnt keep a diary. I couldn't. I couldn't because my parents were very into what I was up to. I can't blame them. As a parent now I totally understand. But - my most personal thoughts had to stay in my head because I would have been mortified if they would have read them. I was a good kid. I never was pregnant or arrested. I always held a steady job. I kept the house clean and I graduated from school. But - they wanted to make sure I was REAALLLLY ok, so they snooped.

So with that said - I will not call this Blog. I will call it Diary.