I started writing this post on Friday.
The Ozarkansas wind that day didn’t whisper in the cedars — it fairly roared. A sound I’ve often found soothing had become restless, angry, insistent.
As last light dimmed at the western horizon, a black and brilliant night sky arched overhead. I could find no comfort in it.
This post was inevitable. I’ve known it was coming. Sooner or later I’d talk about what’s been going on with me lately and, to do that, I’d have to answer a question I’ve been dodging for weeks.
“How’s Deb?”
My response, though undoubtedly perplexing, is simple.
I don’t know.
On Monday, February 3rd, I kissed Deb before she got into her Jeep and left for work. We talked on the phone as she drove into town. We exchanged private messages during her lunch break. In short, it was just like any other day.
Instead of calling me after work, as she always did, she sent a five-line private message.
“I love you,” it began. That, however, was followed by, “but I’m taking a break for a couple days. Maybe I’ve lost my mind, but I’ve got to do this for myself.”
She asked me not to try calling her and assured me that she’d “be in touch soon.” As painful as it was for me to abide by that, I respected her request.
The message concluded with, “I do love you.”
That was a month ago today.
Several days later, after granting her wish for space, I tried to re-establish contact. Fifteen messages and two emails over four weeks have gone unanswered. She doesn’t answer her phone or return calls.
Deb’s “break” was more than a surprise — it was unforeseen, perhaps unforeseeable. There was no warning, no provocation.
And then a month of stony silence, which continues.
I don’t know if she’s alive or dead. I don’t know if she’s in trouble, in treatment or in jail. I don’t know if she left me for someone else or just left.
I don’t know where she is or who she’s with.
The only thing I know for sure is that she no longer works at the bank in Yellville. I gleaned that information from a piece of mail addressed to her — I didn’t open it, but the first sentence of a form letter peeking out of the envelope window confirmed that her employment ended on February 3rd, the day she disappeared.
I do have information that could be considered “proof of life” — a transaction drawn on a joint account, paying March rent on the storage unit in Gassville. It appeared yesterday, scheduled to hit today. It might be a recurring transaction, though, set up well in advance.
Again, I don’t know.
These silent days have been the most difficult of my life.
You may have met Deb and me through this blog. Or maybe you’re a close personal friend who’s come to know us in three dimensions. Either way, you have a sense of my unconditional devotion to her and to the life we’ve built over almost 20 years. You know how unthinkable this situation is.
I’m sure you’re shocked by what I’m telling you.
You don’t understand. Neither do I.
It’s not my intent to paint Deb as a bad person. She’s not. She’ll always be The Great Love of My Life.
I’m not saying any of this to win your allegiance, either, whether you’re a good friend or simply a reader. If she indeed has left me for good, some of you will stand behind her, regardless of what I say or do.
The side you take, if you’re inclined to take a side at all, is your business. I don’t insist that you stand with me.
I’m a good man. I’m also a flawed man. But whatever imperfections I have and aspire to repair, none defines me, stains my character, or harms others.
I have no regrets.
So what’s next?
I don’t know that, either.
More than anything, I hope that Deb’s safe and well. Someone out there must know if that’s so.
In closing, I want you to know that I hate like hell making any of this public. Exposing it goes against my nature as a fiercely private man, and relating it breaks my heart. But after a month of carrying the weight privately and alone, I simply couldn’t do it anymore.
Thanks for reading to the end.
This is my destination. This is my Home.
I won’t leave this place.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable