Leif's thoughts on infantry training and the army

Leif had such divided thoughts about the army and his military service. He was deeply devoted to our country and took very seriously his oath to defend it from all enemies, foreign and domestic. He had a reverence for our Constitution.

He was both enormously proud of his military service and very angry and how he was treated because of his asthma. He had leaders he liked and highly respected (though they are not mentioned in the piece below) and those he hated -- the ones he saw as petty dictators who delighted in humiliating soldiers, particularly his best friend; those he felt were careerists more interested in promotion than in the soldiers in the command.

His view of the army was through the lens of his unit and its operations, a micro view, to be sure, but it gives a window into a soldier's experience. Despite his biting criticism of their training (only being allowed to actually fire their weapons twice a year, for instance) and inefficiency, he was deeply proud of the soldiers with whom he served and continued to identify himself as a member of that infantry brotherhood all his life.

What made him so angry was what he continually saw as the monumental wastes of time, when he and the other soldiers had no more assigned tasks, past the end of the duty day, but were not dismissed to go home and had to just sit in the day room for an hour or hours. He hated the busywork that had them polishing floors rather than training, and with his quick mind and gift for strategy, felt that much of the training was wasteful marching rather than learning useful battle skills.

The piece below was written to his brother on February 8, 2001, in email he sent to me to be forwarded. It came in answer to his brother's thoughts on job satisfaction in the Air Force. Leif had been in the army for three years at that point and was deeply unhappy. It was during the period after he returned from service in Bosnia to find that his marriage was over, his health was ruined, and although he was the best machine gunner in the battalion (and had the awards for it) and could meet the requirements of the army PT (physical training test), he was treated abusively and denied promotion and awards because of his asthma, which made him unable to run as fast as that leader wanted his men to run. He was a deeply unhappy man when he wrote this, but it accurately reflects his feelings at the time. He was medically retired from the army a few months later.

During his service in Bosnia, he was not unhappy and he did feel they had a useful mission, and that things went much better when they did have a clear military mission. However, at that time, he still felt that mission had not been a clear benefit to the citizens of the USA or the world. I don't know whether he felt differently about it over the years. He was proud of that service.

With that background in mind, here are his thoughts from early 2001.

The photo of him was taken sitting on his cot in the first camp he was in when he went to Bosnia. I don't know who took it, but it was another soldier in his unit. The date on the photo is September 13, 1999. He was moved from camp to camp during the Bosnia duty. Because of his pose, I hesitated to post this photo, but it is surely no secret that this gesture is used, and the photo seems to fit the sentiments expressed below.

----------------------------------

First off, You Weenie! Oh the horror, no shower for 33 hours! Try 33 days, you wimp.

But otherwise I must say that I can in no way whatsoever relate to what you are talking about. As a member of the line infantry, or nation's first line of defense (against whatever your compadres failed to shoot down or bomb into oblivion), I have seen a lot of operations. Many, if not all, cost the taxpayer a very pretty penny. And I have yet to see or be able to say that they served any purpose other than to provide a nice bullet for some officer's OER*.

Hundreds of thousands, even millions, are spent on our training and deployments but I cannot say that we have done a single thing that truly benefited this nation or made us more prepared for war, at least not in any proportion with the monetary expenditure that said exercises required. 

From my limited experience with the Air force, I wish that they could be commissioned to reorganize/realign the army. In Bosnia we spend over a million dollars a day to operate one camp. And in seven months I could not give you one example of a day that I felt I had made a difference.

Job satisfaction? That is a concept so alien to me that I must recall the days when I was a pizza delivery driver, for I made much more difference in the quality of life of the American citizen by getting that pizza to a hungry customer On Time than I did to the people of the world as a soldier in the United States infantry.

Perhaps it is simply the fact that we exist for the sole purpose of all out war and when no such war exists there is no secondary purpose to which our leadership can divert us. Our training is contrived and artificial. Our days are an endless monotony of wasted time and an apparent inability to deal with the "difficult" tasks of peace time life, a waste that only furthers our contempt for the nature of the army. Strangely, the ineptitude of our organization in peace time does not make me fear for war. In war there is no time for career-minded ambition. No worries about the luster of the floors. No luxury of petty superiority.

When those things leave us and a real challenge arrives, we seem to posses the ability to pull together and work toward the common purposes of victory and survival. However, in time of peace we seem to lose our way and become distracted with such frivolous and meaningless pursuits as would befit a janitor or gardener, not the noble warriors that defend our great nation. Countless dollars are spent on floor wax and training exercises that teach us nothing except how to walk blindly with the confidence of a boxer that has never lost a fight. Our budget allows us to perform multi-million-dollar operations that teach us nothing and then deny us the opportunity to fire our rifles more than twice a year.

The sort of efficiency you described is simply impossible in the army. Even a rapid deployment force would take days just to prep and plan for such an operation. Our army is sick. No one on the outside can see its ailments for we proud men hide our flaws andshield our egos from the light of day. And like a proud man our army will not seek adoctor's care.

Only when it collapses will an outsider see how it has deteriorated. Only then, in our darkest hour, when this 'machine' of incompetence and misdirection has broken down will we be able to start again and build the army of tomorrow. Until then our only satisfaction will lie in the fact that no matter how flawed or pointless the endeavors that may fill the interlude between wars, we few men and women of the United States Army volunteered to defend this great nation against all enemies foreign and domestic should she ever need to call on us.

*OER = Officer Efficiency Report (job evaluation for promotion purposes)

Leif's Email to General Wesley Clark - September 10, 2003

On September 10, 2003, Leif sent this email to most if not all of his email contacts. He spoke very highly of Gen. Clark and very much wanted him to be president.

I signed the petition to get General Wesley Clark to run for President today. They provided a box to fill in a message to him so I decided to use it. Here is what I wrote. I hope you all will think about what I have said when the election comes in a year no matter which candidate you support.

In the wake of 9/11 I am greatly concerned, NOT with the physical safety of America but rather with the safety of American freedom and civil liberty. As a veteran and army brat I have had many opportunities to experience life outside the USA and appreciate what we have and what it is worth. Unfortunately many Americans do not have this insight and have been willing to put the freedom that they have taken for granted at risk to ensure the safety they have also taken for granted.

Benjamin Franklin once said that a man that trades a piece of his liberty for safety deserves neither. I agree with this statement. As a citizen and a veteran I place a high priority on the defense of America but that defense must stop when it itself becomes a danger to American freedom. Specifically the Bill of Rights must not be put in jeopardy. The current administration scares me in this regard, and in particular the so-called "Patriot Act," which I personally see as un-American and in opposition to everything this country is supposed to stand for. There are no parts of the Bill of rights that are expendable.

I have previoulsy had difficulty aligning with the Democratic Party over the issue of gun control. Still a part of the Bill of Rights, this should not be infringed upon on at the federal level. If California thinks they need strict gun bans, that is up to California. I won't live in California. But how do the problems in Los Angeles affect me here in Kansas?  This is a local issue, not a federal one.

So, General Clark, I sincerely hope that you choose to take on this burden and continue to defend American freedom in your retirement. Remember the Army oath of office both you and I swore to, "I will defend the constitution of the United States from all enemies foreign or domestic." I consider the current administration to be enemies of the constitution and they must be contested on the political battlefield just as surely as Al Qaeda must be fought on the physical battlefield.

As a veteran I salute you, sir, and hope you will rise to this challenge.

SPC Leif Garretson
US ARMY (medically retired)

"Brilliant Thoughts on the Sexes #2"

This was the second installment of Leif's discourse on sex roles. I think when he talks about learning these things as a child, he was talking about his experiences in high school in particular. That was in the macho culture of Puerto Rico. He certainly didn't learn these lessons in our household.

More Brilliant Thoughts
by Leif Garretson
June 29, 2001

Ok. Now for the men talking to women thing. First a crash course in what it is like to be a man.

Lessons learned as a child:

1. Men don't cry. (exceptions for deaths of family members or women dumping them)
2. Men don't talk about their feelings (at least not to other men with above exceptions)
3. Men aren't supposed to be sensitive.
4. All men are potential enemies.
5. All men will look for weakness in other men for later exploitation (even friends).
6. You can never trust another man.
7. Competition between men, even friends will never cease.
8. You can never relax around other men for they will be watching for you to fuck up.
9. At best a man may be your comrade but never truly a friend.
10. A man may be your ally, but never forget that like with separate countries, treaties can be broken and war can always be declared.

Ok, now you know the basics of what it means to be a man. Now, how does it relate to you as a woman? Well, none of those rules apply to women.

First off, #1 crying. You can't imagine how much I envy women the ability to cry without shame. Even when we are alone we are so conditioned not to that it is difficult for us to release emotional pain. We feel so ashamed that we can't even do in front of ourselves. But a woman changes things. The ideal mate is part lover, part daughter, and part mother. In this case it is the mother that we need. The one person that never judged us or told us we were wimps when we were hurting. If a man can find a woman that he loves, trusts and is comfortable enough with that he can cry in her lap, then he has found something priceless, because that woman will not judge him harshly for it. She will be able to comfort him not only for his pain but for his shame at showing such weakness.

This weekend before the wedding S and L were fighting and the first thing I saw of her she came right to me without saying a word, put her arms around me, her head on my shoulder and started to cry. Two thoughts went though my head, other than concern. First, I was very flattered that she chose my shoulder to cry on, and while I hated to see her sad, it felt really good to know that after a year apart and after me and N splitting up S still loves and trusts me enough to come to me like that. And second, I envied her the ability to show pain and admit being hurt, not only to me but the the others that were witnesses.

#2 Believe it or not, we do have feelings. We just aren't very good at expressing them since we aren't supposed to talk about them. We often don't have the vocabulary, don't know the language. But if a man finds a woman that he can talk to and can learn to communicate then she will be the one irreplaceable outlet for his feelings.

#3 Sensitivity: men can be sensitive and they can be hurt but they will never admit that to another man. Women take for granted all the things that you can do with each other or with men. You can be yourselves a lot more than we can. You can cry. You can be hurt. You can be easily upset. We are only allowed to have one emotion and that is anger. It is ok for us to be pissed off but we can't be sad or hurt or weak, so we bottle that all up and store it. The only release we have for any of that is our mate.

#4,5,6,7,8,9, & 10 Men do not consider women to be a threat. The game, if you will, the battlefield, is populated by men. Women are not included in the rules. Unfortunately, the main reason for this is that men feel superior to women. We are all a little sexist. We look at men as being on equal ground, a level playing field. But we do not see them as equals. We are always working to establish the pecking order, to determine hierarchy, to see who is the alpha male -- which is why we can never truly be friends or truly trust and open up. Cuz, if we are the beta and we soften to the alpha, then that reinforces our subjugation to him as a superior. If we are the alpha, the softening in front of the beta will give him encouragement to assert his position over us and vie for the alpha spot. It is basic animal psychology and no matter how advanced, we are still animals. We still do what all mammals do. But a woman does not fall into this game because while I see women as symbiotic equals to men that exist in combination for common benefit, each using their different abilities to compliment the others' shortcomings, but in this sense men judge their worth in terms of strength.

And in those terms, women are simply inferior. Pay attention to what I said! By the standard of strength, women are inferior, and that is the standard men use to judge ourselves. By that standard, women are not threats because we can kick your ass. A woman is not going to oust me for the alpha spot because she neither can't nor would care to do so if she could. So what do I have to worry about showing weakness to her? And to further that point, women show weakness constantly, so even if we became blubbering idiots we would still be stronger (by the male standard) than the women.

Now please make sure that you are not reading more into this than I have written. I think that in an emotional sense women may be stronger and better equipped to handle emotional pain. In addition, women may lean on each other and draw strength from each other in times of need. Men do not. May not. You may have heard the saying "no man is an island." Well, actually we are. We are just islands that are close enough to trade, but ultimately we are alone.

Women are like seas in the same ocean. They flow together and draw strength from each other’s waves. We men, we islands, can have a love affair with the ocean but the other islands will never caress our beaches with their waves. (wow that is a cool analogy. I am proud of myself :-) So when a relationship ends, whether it is a breakup, or worst of all, death, I think it is harder on the man (unless he did the leaving). A woman can lean on her friends. She can grieve with them. She can cry on their shoulders. But if the man is left alone he is truly alone. The woman he lost was likely the only person he could talk to, the only person he could trust, the only shoulder he could cry on.

To continue my analogy, if an island sinks into the ocean the seas will still have currents between them; they will not be alone. But if
the water recedes from the land the islands are left behind and can only stare at the other lonely peaks. Ever notice that you hear a lot more stories about old men dying of a broken heart after losing their wives than the reverse? Now you know why.

This concludes my brilliant thoughts for the night. :-x Leif

---------------------------
Starting when he was first old enough to notice then, Leif loved vehicules of all kinds, but especially beautifully designed machines that went extremely fast. Here he is posing by a very fancy speed boat at a lake in Japan when he was about 5 years old.

"Brilliant Thoughts About the Sexes"

Brilliant Thoughts on the Sexes
by Leif Garretson
June 29, 2001

"There are three parts to the male psyche, the first being the brain. The brain is hard to please (at least for some of us). It needs to find stimulation that is at least of an approximately equal level (so us smart guys got it tough). The brain is the balance between the others and has veto power over all decisions. However, that power is rarely used when it is being bullied by the much louder voices of the other two.

The brain's greatest enemy is boredom. If the brain is not entertained then it will begin to complain to the others. If the others are having too much fun themselves then those complaints will not mean much, but in time the others will likely lose enthusiasm and relent in search of a better mate for all.

Second is the Libido, or more simply the dick. The dick is simple. It is relatively easy to please. However it is very difficult to satisfy. It always wants more, and more, and more; the dick is never silent except when it has been recently pleased. Otherwise it is constantly pestering the brain to get it what it wants. The brain helps to guide the dick as best as it can and they do attempt to cooperate. However, often times the incessant pestering of the dick will wear the brain down and he will give in even if he is not really that interested.

This happens even more when drunk, as alcohol affects the brain the most. At this time, though, the heart can get in the way because it is often afraid, since it gets the brunt of disappointment, for it is the only one with the capacity to hope. But if it can be convinced then both will give in so that the dick will shut up.

Finally there is the heart, and it is normally the quietest but when it sees something it wants, really wants, then it has the loudest voice and the other two do not dare challenge it. It is more patient than the other two and can wait a long time for what it needs. However, it can either bounce around brightening the others’ day with it's excitement, or sulk around bumming the others out with it's longing. Because of its patience it often indulges the other two and allows them to have their fun while it waits for its ultimate goal.

To put a case in point, I am patient and will wait and hope for you since you are one of a very few women that have hit me in all three. But that does not mean that my heart will deprive the guys above and below of the cute joggers that live next door while I am waiting for you to dump whatshisname. If a girl is lucky to win over two she is doing well but if you get all three then he will be yours for as long as you continue to satisfy all three.

To do this you must first please his heart by making him feel loved and wanted. Please his mind by stimulating him and entertaining him as well as have your shit together so that his brain isn't forced to veto you because you are ruining his future. And finally, you have to make sure that his dick get satisfied at least often enough that he's unwilling to risk the dry spells of single life in order to pursue someone more willing to satisfy him.

So simplified: don't f--- up his practical life and keep him entertained and you will have his mind. Make sure he gets laid enough that he doesn't start looking for someone else to pick up your slack. And don't bore the dick either. Try new things :-)

And finally, for the heart: make him feel loved and make him feel needed. They are different. For example, a hug can be given or taken, offered or accepted. If you have a bad day and you come to him for a hug, that is you asking for love from him to fill you up. While he will feel needed and be glad to do it, remember that you should also offer a hug when you can to fill him back up.

Let him know that you don't just want affection when you need it. Then you will seem Needy and a drain and then he will not want to give you hugs because it feels like he is giving and giving and not getting it back. Then you will think that he does not want to touch you but it is not that; it is that you seem to him like an emotional leach.

Try giving love when you don't need it. I love to be touched and I love hugs and kisses, but I want to be on the receiving end sometimes, too. If, for example, she had come up behind me while I was sitting here typing and had put her arms around me and given me a kiss just cuz she wanted to show me she loved me, then I would get a warm fuzzy and feel much better. I would be receiving love and would then be a lot more receptive the next time she needed some loving.

Also, men don't tend to do the asking when they need emotional support. It is a macho thing so, take initiative cuz we need it just as much as you do. We are just supposed to act like we don't.

You may have heard the whole men going into their cave when they are mad or sad thing. Well, it is true, but it is hard to tell the difference between a man that needs to be alone and a man that needs to be comforted. So the best advice is to try to be affectionate, even ask if you should leave him alone and if he turns you away, do not be insulted or hurt. He just needs to be alone.

But if he does not turn you away you will win big points. A man’s default emotion when he is upset is anger. That is what you will see, and don't think that that means he is unapproachable (unless you are the reason he is angry; then a completely different rule book comes out). Try to be nice to him and if the problem is something else and he is not too pissed to respond, he will likely soften and feel much better.

And if you really wanna be good and he really is in a foul or surly mood, try a massage. If he turns you down on that one, leave him alone for about an hour cuz he must be really really pissed about something. Or for extra browny points, sex is a real winner. The man who says no is likely struggling to suppress homicidal urges.

Anyway, we can discuss this more later if you like. I will give you the next dissertation in a different email."

The Last Love of His Life

Although Leif keenly felt the loss of his sense of purpose in life when he no longer was living with and trying to help D, he knew the relationship was not a healthy one for either of them. He was lonely and depressed. Although he did not want to get back into the relationship, he desperately needed companionship, love and a reason to live. He continued with his philosophy classes at USF, and it was there that he wrote his final paper on happiness and morality, the one he left on the "desktop" of his laptop computer along with the sad photo of himself the night he died. He emailed that paper to me not long after he wrote it and we discussed it, but to this day I don't know whether it was supposed to be some kind of a signpost for me or not, either when he first sent it to me, or when he left it on his computer. I believe the latter one was, but whether he was trying to convey something about his state of mind to me when he first wrote and sent it, I don't know.

He was struggling financially as well, using his GI BIll to help cover the loss of household income from D. However, he was spending foolishly. He had gotten cash from insurance for his medical bills after the motorcycle accident, but instead of banking the money to pay for the expenses that didn't get billed until long afterward, he spent it. I expressed my concern about his spending the fall of 2007 but he insisted to me that he was fine and that he wasn't really spending more than he had, just "wheeling and dealing." I foolishly believed him, since he had the extra GI Bill income and was still working full time at Humana. I think he believed he could pull it off, that he would be able to gradually pay off his credit card bills and stay afloat with that extra money, but it was a futile hope, since he didn't seem to be able to stop spending and then the medical bills from the ER came in, months after the accident. Of course I didn't find out any of that until after his death.

Meanwhile, he continued his quest for love and dated several people that fall, and once text messaged me that he thought he had a crush on one of his philosophy instructors. Another time he was briefly gleeful at having met a library science student that seemed promising, but it went nowhere.

He seemed preoccupied at Christmastime and when he came for his last birthday dinner with us, didn't connect with us in the way I was used to. He was more emotionally flat and preoccupied with his laptop and phone. However, we saw him two more times after that, once in February for dinner at Sam Seltzer's Steakhouse in Brandon and then at our house on Easter in March. Those times he seemed much more like his old self, engaged, relaxed, and even happy. Although the financial rug had been pulled out from under him when he lost his GI BIll in mid-February, the financial disaster didn't hit until the end of March and the beginning of April, and in that time frame he had been on a quest to find love again and thought he had found it. I did have an inkling that he was living paycheck to paycheck (paychecks including the GI BIll checks) when I invited him for dinner the first weekend of February 2008 and he texted me back:

"Think i will stay in. Just paid rent etc broke till va check clears bank no gas for SCC trip"

When I commented about his being broke and asked about it he texted back:

"Well I am not broke broke but I don't want to tap into reserves always broke in first that is when the biggest bill is always due. Remember I had to pay tuition lastmonth extra $750 of expense I don't have most months"

Actually, he was broke, broke, with his credit cards maxed out, and having to pay tuition and car and cycle registrations in the same month had taken a bite, and I don't have a clue what "reserves" he was talking about.

However, he seemed to be so much happier and more hopeful as he started email, text and phone conversations with DT and quickly became enamored, as he so often did. She lived in another town and had children, so it took them awhile to be able to arrange a date, which gave them more time to talk. Leif actually liked that because he felt it was better to build a relationship before meeting, and before sexual issues got in the way of getting to know each other. They met for their one and only date on March 15th. He drove to her town and came home very late. He sent me a text message saying:

"Mmm so tired but so worth it"

Our text conversation when like this:

Me: Glad it was good. Glad you got back safely. Hope you can stay awake at work. So, what was so great?

Leif: Simply put. Everything. She is perfect.

Me: Ah, I'm glad she's great. Just take it easy. It's a first date. Takes awhile to learn enuf about someone, as you have seen plenty of times in the past. Would love to see you find a good match.

Leif: True but the way I operate by the time of the first date we have often had more communication than most couples have in a year

Me: That's good, excellent, but not the same as long term involvement, as past experience shows. People act differently when in the attraction phase and in the have to make it work phase.

Leif: Something just occurred to me. Remember how I always used to say with my neck I need to marry a masseuse? [DT] is a professional massage therapist.

Me: :-D interesting. Does she want to do it when she gets off work, too?

Leif: Surely not all the time but she is very giving and affectionate so I doubt she would leave me to suffer if I needed it.

Me: Boy, from first date to contemplating marriage? Whoa! (And surely you would be most appreciative and rewarding!)

Leif: LOL well that would be a ways off. Just musing over another way she is just right.

He was quite dreamy and excited about her and even sent pictures to me. Following that one date, they continued to be in contact via phone, messaging and email. They set up a second date for a week later on March 22nd, but unfortunately for everyone, her mother had a heart attack and she had to cancel it. He started texting me about the cancellation of the date and his feelings about her. In answer to something he wrote, I became concerned that he was trying to move too fast, and I sent him this, trying to be a bit silly about it to make him smile:

"Mommy Tip #4
Timing is critical. Procrastinate too long, you lose out. Jump in too fast, you may scare off the objective. This works with relationships, too, especially between men and women."

That sparked a long answer from him, one of the longest emails I ever got from him.

"from Leif Garretson
Date Sun, Mar 23, 2008 at 1:27 AM
Subject Re: Timing

I am trying to balance prudence with passion with [DT]. I have told her I am in no rush with her. It's a tricky proposition to balance honesty with intelligence. Honestly, it was damn near love at first sight. Which is what I wanted. But I have not revealed that. I have mixed feelings about tonight's events. I am of course disappointed that I did not see her but I think it maybe for the best. While there was some pretty hot making out on the first date we stopped at that. I told her I kinda wanted to wait as I want her hooked on my personality before she was hooked on anything else.

I have noticed a pattern in my relationships. It goes back awhile in its history. Back to Chicago and Puerto Rico, where I had many friends that were girls. I was privy to many inside conversations with women that few men ever hear. I heard everything men were doing wrong with young women I really liked and had affection for. I decided I would never be one of those guys that would be talked about the way I heard my girl friends talk. I learned a lot and paid attention. I had several opportunities to experience sex had I chosen to do so, including practically fighting off a girl in my bedroom at Ft Buchanan. It just never seemed right for something you do just once. So I waited till it was, and it was sooooo worth it.

Care to guess when it happened? Here is a clue. It was not in PR or Kansas or any other territory of the United States. It was on that ship, the Norwegian Cruise Lines ship, where I met that gorgeous British casino cashier, JF. That last night of the cruise I did not come back to the room, not only was I doing what you likely suspected but I was doing it for the first time. The fun fact about that is that afterwards I told her it was my first time and she did not believe me, as surely a virgin could not have been that good.

At this point I had a major ego boost and an egotistical requirement. Now that I knew I was good I HAD to be good. Not just good but great. And if I am to believe every woman I have ever been with, I am.

So where did this lead? Well, it ties into other traits I have and the effect that the combination has. I find that first of all, sadly, most women have had very poor experiences with men. Many women are happy just to have a man that doesn't hit them and think that is a find. That is tragic, but compared to most men I am a prince. I treat them well and am a gentleman. I am also very honest and I don't play games, and women tend to trust me readily and I don't betray that trust. Then we have mind blowing sex and they THINK they are in love with me. They feel more comfortable and secure with me than ever before and great sex feels like genuine intimacy and they are sure they are in love with me.

Then later....

once the euphoria of the beginning wears off, they start to look at day-to-day life with Leif, and then they see my flaws. I am independent. I am aloof. I am often insensitive. I also am usually stronger and need them a lot less than they need me. Thus, like with Nikko, it turns out she realizes that I do not engage her like she wants me to. Then they realize I am not what they really need.

Thus I am in no rush with [DT]. I am very disappointed not to see her but I am kinda glad I was not pressured or tempted to have sex with her prematurely, as I want much more from her and am prepared to give much more."

It wasn't true, though, that he needed them less -- he just needed them in a different way than they needed him. He suffered terribly when he lost them. It's so hard to read this and realize that here was a man thinking long term about a new relationship and yet in only 17 days he was dead.

Sadly, because of DT's mother's health and her job and family responsibilities, just as Leif had fallen in love, she had to pull away from him. He sent several text messages a day after her mother's heart attack and rarely got an answer, and if he did, it was a word or two. She did not answer his calls. Although he understood she had other obligations that took priority and was very busy, he felt left out.

He sent her a message hoping they could get together on their mutual day off, Tuesday, April 8th, but did not get a reply. He had gotten two very short messages on Saturday, April 5th, and sent seven messages over the course of four days to her:

":-( ok. Miss you what about Tuesday day"
Sent on Saturday, Apr 5 2008 at 1:52:31 PM

"Smiles"
Sent on Sunday, Apr 6 2008 at 8:59:57 PM

"Miss talking to you"
Sent on Sunday, Apr 6 2008 at 10:40:15 PM

"I don't like it when I don't hear from you for days. I miss you too much. "
Sent on Monday, Apr 7 2008 at 12:52:36 AM

"You're doing that not answering me for days thing again. :-("
Sent on Monday, Apr 7 2008 at 9:30:12 AM

"Working today?"
Sent on Monday, Apr 7 2008 at 4:26:42 PM

"Thinking of you"
Sent on Tuesday, Apr 8 2008 at 10:08:39 PM

He got no replies until the this one, which arrived after he had been dead for over 12 hours. He never saw it.

"Thinking of u too"
Received on Wednesday, Apr 9 2008 at 8:18:30 PM

He had seemed so up, so happy, so hopeful about this relationship, and I was so happy for him, even though I feared he had fallen in love too fast and was worried he would get hurt again. I'd had a dream in mid-January that "something good" was going to happen to him, and when this relationship began, I hoped that was what my dream had foretold.

It is so hard to reconcile Leif's death with the man who was in love again, who seemed so happy for the last couple of weeks of March, who talked to finding a job in her town and moving there to be near her.

I can only think that the combination of his financial collapse, which must have made it look impossible to continue a courtship, especially one requiring long drives and a lot of monetary outlay for gasoline, and her withdrawal must have made him feel that love was once again out of reach, that he would never have someone to complete his life and provide the intimacy he craved so much. He would certainly not have wanted to reveal his financial situation to her. It would have been humiliating, but even knowing all of that, I can't put it all together. I can't get from the man who was participating in a lively email discussion earlier the evening before he took his life, the man who was partying with his friend until the wee hours of the morning, to the man who, after they left, shot himself.

DT was his last love. I'm sorry it didn't develop into something wonderful for both of them. I'm sorry he never found the love and intimacy he needed, but I'm glad he had that one date, something that made him happy for a time.
------------------

This photo of Leif was taken January 7, 2008, three months before he died. It was three weeks before his 33rd and last birthday.

A Troubled New Love Relationship Begins

When his mostly phone and email romance with LA trailed off in October 2005, Leif began dating again and meeting the dates through match.com and eharmony.com. He told me that some guys asked why he was willing to shell out the membership fees and he said that it would cost more than that to hit the bars and other places trying to find companionship, and that he had found them to be terrible places to meet people.

On January 25, 2006, he got a "wink" from someone on match.com that piqued his interest. He had been an ardent fan of Douglas Adam's "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" since he was in junior high, and he met few women who had similar reading, or television, interest. Thus he was impressed when D emailed him "42," the classic answer to "life, the universe and everything." He was instantly interested in meeting her. I believe they first met on his 31st birthday, January 28, 2006. She was about to move out of Tampa with some friends and he didn't want her to go. He first began bringing her to our house, where I met her in early February. We weren't willing to have a friend of his (any friend) move in, though, I don't know whether it was Leif's idea or D's or both, but they decided to get an apartment in Tampa together.

Leif knew he was going to have to move out of the three rooms he occupied in our house before I completed the move from Kansas in September, so he saw this as an opportunity to move out and live with someone captivating who could help with the rent, and he hoped it would "go somewhere," in his terms.

D was very different from other women Leif was involved with, at least the ones I'd met. She was street smart and had had a very tough childhood. She was funny and cute, mercurial, and talked so fast it could make your head swim. I liked her, but sometimes she was so hyper she made me nervous. I remember standing with both of them in our kitchen when they announced that they were moving in together in Tampa and saying, "It's too soon. You don't know each other well enough yet. You've both had some very sad and tough times and neither of you can emotionally afford another romantic disaster." I told D that I didn't have anything against her. I didn't know her well enough to have any negative feelings about her, but I was worried they were making a big mistake to move in with each other after only knowing each other for three weeks or less. They both pooh-poohed my concerns. I think Leif thought that he would be able to enjoy her companionship and what he then felt was an endearing flightiness and have someone to share expenses. I don't think he ever felt he was going to get in too deep. Although he was captivated when he moved out of here, he wasn't yet in love.

They found an apartment in Tampa and we asked them whether it was a good neighborhood. Leif told us it was. Unfortunately, it wasn't. It was in that apartment that they were robbed a mere five months later in July 2006. It was a small two-bedroom, ground floor apartment in an older complex. Since I was still going back and forth to Kansas in those days, I didn't see much of Leif except once or twice each time I was back in Florida, and only heard from him occasionally.

D was a part time model and she modeled at the Daytona Bike Week. Leif took her there in March for modeling jobs. Things did not go smoothly and the trip cost him money and time he didn't really have to spare and he was falling into debt again, though he didn't admit that to us at all. D had trouble holding down a job and with Leif's spending habits and the added expenses of an apartment, utilities and a second person, he was not able to keep up with the financial situation. He did admit to us that money was tight, but not that he was building up credit card debt fast.

There were other issues that cropped up between them that spring, and in an attempt to deal with them in a light-hearted manner, he wrote a "job description" of a live-in girlfriend. Leif was not, in general, a demanding man, but he did have standards and he did have expectations. Though he chose to handle this in a somewhat joking manner, you can read between the lines about why he felt he should write it at all. Things were rocky, but he was still hoping they would work out.

From: Leif Garretson
Subject: Job Posting
Date: Wednesday, April 5, 2006, 8:52 PM

The following document shouldn't be taken too seriously or literally, and considered with a sense of humor, for it is an analogy or metaphor. It is not intended to suggest that a Girlfriend is an "employee." So read it, learn from it, and reference it if you need to.

Position: "Live In Girlfriend"

Employer: Leif

The following is a listing for the position of Live-in Girlfriend. This is a semi-permanent to permanent position with potential for advancement for a qualified and dedicated individual offering significant benefits proportional to the applicant's qualifications and performance.

QUALIFICATIONS:
Applicants must be female and either bi or heterosexual. They should be between 21 and 31 years of age and seeking permanent satisfying employment. Motivation and high sex drive are a must. As they will be working for a very sexual and visually oriented employer it is necessary to maintain physical fitness and an overall attractive and stimulating appearance. The appearance and behavior reflect on the employer and a successful applicant must be willing to put her best foot forward in representing herself and her employer. As part of the specifics of the appearance required, any applicant will be expected to maintain a slender build, typically weighing 100-130 pounds, unless unusually tall or short. Applicant must, with reasonable exceptions, maintain a well-kempt, feminine appearance that is attractive to her employer. The quality of that appearance and the consistency with which it is maintained will be directly proportional to benefits and compensation both, deliberate and unconscious.

Applicant must accept that she is in a mature environment free of unnecessary drama or conflict and excessive outbursts or immature, overly emotional behavior; particularly, ones which may disturb neighbors or embarrass the employer will not be tolerated. No allowance or exception will be made to this rule for use of alcohol, as immature behavior is not excused due to inebriation.

A successful applicant must be driven to better herself and assist her employer in doing the same. She must cooperate in joint efforts to maintain physical fitness and/or curb destructive vices.

The person that will succeed at this job is one that will take pride in her position and who will seek to make her employer proud of her. She should understand that her actions do not exist in a vacuum, but rather that everything she does, private or public, to include personal appearance, demeanor, and behavior, reflect on her employer. Only a person that is able to portray themselves in a positive and flattering light that will reflect well on her employer amongst others, so that she is a credit to him, will have opportunity for promotion or advancement.

She will have to leave past dramas or patterns of dealing with difficulty behind and embrace a more mature, enlightened way of dealing with things.

She should seek to better herself through the pursuit of education and employment and make goals for each.

Ultimately, to advance from this position to a more permanent one, such as "Wife,” she must be willing to consider breast augmentation to an impressive but not ridiculous bustline.

DUTIES:

Applicant will be expected to maintain a generally attractive, feminine, appearance. Clothes, hair, make-up, physical fitness and behavior are aspects of this. Slovenly, lazy, or unkempt appearance are not acceptable save for sick or morning after-days. Barring such exceptions, or obvious work-related attire, will be expected to look nice, with hair and make up done and decent clothes. Applicant must take pride in her appearance as Leif's Lady, as she is a representative of her employer.

Applicant will be expected to maintain reasonable employment and contribute to household expenses as well as her own. Leif may, at his sole discretion, chose to supplement this income to provide clothes, lingerie, make up, etc., to make the above task easier, or out of simple generosity. Any activities suggested by the employer he will expect to pay for, such as dinner out, etc. However, the applicant should be pulling her own weight and not be excessively asking for help with expenses that are not shared. Contraception is considered a shared expense. However, things like cigarettes, or other expenses which are not necessary for the fulfilling of any expected tasks, are not Leif's responsibility and should be budgeted for or eliminated by the applicant.

Any individual that accepts the position must expect to be sexually available as well as desirable.

A live-in girlfriend will be expected to cook, clean, and do laundry, though will not be solely responsible for those actions. Leif will participate in all to the degree necessary or appropriate and no further explanation of these tasks will be given unless it becomes disproportionate to the point it is a problem.

A successful applicant will also share as many non-sexual activities as possible, such as movies, TV, and games whenever possible and should keep in mind that if the above requirements for attractiveness and sexual desirability are met, she should not have to compete with things like PlanetSide. Historically, it is evident that when a girlfriend is thin and hot and sexy, PlanetSide does not see much of "Graeloch."

PHILOSOPHY:

Below is some clarification, explanation or justification for the requirements above, to explain why they are so important.

Weight: I have discussed some of this, but partly it is that opposites attract. I look for in a woman what I see lacking in myself. I am attracted to very thin, slight, feminine women. I am a conqueror and I want someone that looks ripe for conquering, not someone that looks like a worthy adversary. Also, because after the conquering is done, I am a protector. Small, fragile women make me feel protective and powerful. Visually, a light, cat-like build turns me on. Call it shallow if you like; I know what I like. I may not give you shit if you are not as thin as I like, but my desire will not be there.

Appearance and behavior: Again, what you look like, say and do is a reflection on me. You are not just D, you are Leif's Girlfriend. Be one that I would be proud of. Don't ever be one that I would be ashamed of because of how you look or behave. Again, think of what you think My Lady should be like. If you were to write a story about me in this or any other time, and you had to describe my Lady, the woman that you would expect to see at the side of a man like me, what would she be like? How would she look and how would she act?

------------------------------

The two photos of Leif with the blue hair were taken on his last day of seventh grade in June 1988 when they were having some kind of a goofy dress-up day. He was a student at Northwood Junior High School in Highland Park, Illinois. They may seem an odd choice to put with this post, but since it starts out mentioning Douglas Adams and "42," I chose them because that was the period when he read those books and practically memorized them. He could recite whole passages. They made a profound effect on his life and he talked about them all the years he lived after this.

The Romantic Correspondence Continues

Leif had trie to get together with LA but things kept interfering with their meeting in person. She lived in another town, which complicated things further. However, they continued to talk on the phone and communicate via instant messaging and email. Leif continued to reveal more and more about himself and his feelings about the relationships between men and women. LA's prolific and tantalizing letters elicited more writing from him. In this one, he explains his attraction to women, theorizes why he is attracted to thin, clear-skinned women, and what kind of dominance he wants to have. He tells us how important it is to a man to have an attractive wife and why. As he says, people don't say these things out loud, but he is willing to put a lot of faith in LA's understanding of his male viewpoint.

Sadly for him, he lost the weight battle. I wonder whether he would have felt any differently in early 2008 than when he wrote this in July 2005, though I doubt it.

At this point, he and LA had been corresponding for about a month.

Saturday, July 23, 2005 11:38 PM
Subject: more babbling please

Hello My sweet.

I love it when you babble. It's cute. One thing that I may not have told you before is that unlike many men I actually find your peculiar, irrational, feminine emotionality rather appealing. Don't get me wrong; if you start to get neurotic and irritating I might get annoyed, but I am extremely rational and perhaps a little emotionally repressed. I love the fact that women are so much more emotional. I find it fascinating. In fact, I find women utterly fascinating period. And the more archetypically female the better. Women are so beautifully alien to me. I just cant get enough of them.

On one hand I understand women well, better than most men, but that understanding is like the sort of understanding a biologist has of the way a bird flies. You understand how it flies and the reasons it flies but that does not mean you understand what it would be like to fly, and that is fascinating, like watching a bird and trying to comprehend what it might be like to be one of those beautiful creatures. That is kinda how I see women, as beautiful alien beings which, no matter how much I study them, remain irresistibly inexplicable.

I also like the fact that you feel comfortable talking to me about your emotions. I like that. It means you trust me.

I guess I have an unusual idea of what dominance or power means to me. Many simply enjoy the idea of simple power, the ability to do what one wants and to get other people to do what one wants. And yes, that has a certain appeal. However, I am reminded of a saying I heard in the military when it comes to leadership. It says that POWER is described as the ability to make people do something they do not want to do. There are many means to power; bribery, coercion, fear, etc. By contrast, LEADERSHIP is defined as the ability to make people want to do what you want them to do.

There are many powerful people. They can say, “you will follow me into battle because if you don't I will burn your homes,” but the true leaders are the ones whose people follow them willingly because they are just that cool and noble, whose people follow them because it is to their advantage, not just to their detriment not to.

To me, achieving dominion over a woman like you is not so much about being able to force you into submission. Rather to me it more like the ability to tame a wild animal. Sure, any brute can lasso a horse, put it in a corral and then, with help from others, tie it down and mount it and force it into submission, but how many can walk up to one in an open field and over the course of a few days or weeks get close to it, touch it, and earn its trust to the point that the horse will let him on its back without coercion? How many could make that horse a loyal friend that would actually protect its master? That is a true accomplishment.

I see the winning of a woman the same way. Any man can rape a woman, beat her into submission, force her to comply with his desires or suffer pain and degradation if she doesn't. That is no challenge. There is no satisfaction in that. But how many men could get a woman to voluntarily open herself to him? Let him in where he pleases? How many could obtain her willing subjugation? How many men could have a woman on her knees pleasuring him willingly and eagerly and thankful for his presence? Not many. That is the power I seek.

And while any man can claim a woman and “say she is mine because I say so,” how many can say she is mine because SHE says so? I can tell you that if you are desirable, as you must be, getting hit on all the time, that there is no greater feeling of pride that a man can have than to walk into a room with a woman that every man in the room wants and desires and have them all know that she is his by choice and chose him above all of them. It is the greatest status symbol a man can have, to have the woman that they all want.

This is another important insight you should have when it comes to your own appearance. Men compete in everything in life. And we compare everything. The quality of a man's woman is part of that competition. The man that shows up with a "catch" is held in very high esteem. "Wow, he must be a real man if he got her" kind of thing. A man who has a fat ugly wife that doesn't take care of herself looks very badly for the man. Now we would never say any of this aloud, but for example I have a customer that I consider to be a good looking guy. He is of decent height, is well built, and has a winning smile. I would think he is a good looking guy. His wife is not very pretty, is fat, and she doesn't seem to make any attempt to look good for him. I see them and I pity him. I think not only that he could do better but that he must have little self respect to stay with her, and I think that she is disrespecting him by not having the decency to try and look good for him. It shows a lack of respect for him.

Ultimately, be it power, wealth, or whatever, all male competition comes down to the pursuit of quality mates. The man with the quality woman is held in higher esteem even over the rich and powerful. A lot of that is tied to her appearance, and while you can't control everything about your looks or weight, a woman that "lets herself go" and doesn't even attempt to stay fit for her man is disrespecting him in the worst way. She is saying, “I don't care about you enough to look good for you and I would rather eat a pint of ice cream a day even if it makes me look unattractive to you and lowers your esteem among your friends.” I hate women that do that to their men. It is so insulting. Sure, while everyone get a little out of shape with age, some women don't even try to look nice. Sweats, T-shirts, pony tails with no make up. It's like they just stopped caring about their husbands now that they got the ring. That is one thing I have always respected about my mother, is that she believes it is herduty as a wife to do her best to look as good as she can for my father, within reason, not only for his sake when they are alone but for the way it effects him publicly.

In fact, this can even affect a man's career, as a boss that sees an employee with a beautiful, loving, happy wife sees a man worthy of respect. By contrast, if he has a crude, ugly, overweight, unkept, wife that is rude, he will think less of that man. On some level he is thinking, “man, if that is the best you could do, you must not be much of a man.” A very sad thing when a woman changes like that. he not only disrespects herself, she disrespects her husband.

Also, it can affect how the man treats you. A man that is proud of his wife wants to show her off, wants to buy her pretty things and take her out on the town and show her off. He wants everyone to see his beautiful wife and think how lucky he is to have her. He wants to keep her happy because she makes him happy. By contrast, if she is unattractive, particularly due to things she can control like her weight and her grooming, and her behavior, then he wants to hide her. He is ashamed of his wife and does not want anyone to se her. He resents her and does not want to do anything for her as she is not doing anything for him. It can be a vicious circle as she does not want to do anything for him and he does not want to do anything for her.

There is no greater feeling than to be proud of your mate and wanting to show her to everyone, like “Look and me and the gorgeous creature I was able to tame,” as opposed to having to go out and know that every one is thinking, “look at the horrid bitch that poor slob is stuck with.”

Anyway, just some stuff I thought you should know. I think it goes for men, too. I struggle with the genes myself and don't have the will power to stay in as good a shape as I would like.

That is also one of the reasons I am so attracted to thin women. I think that people naturally try to find the person that will balance them and make the best children. I am big and strong and fight with being overweight. I also had bad acne as a child, so thin clear-skinned women are very attractive to me. I guess I think mating with one of them would save my kids the same demons and balance them out.

Anyway, there is a bit of my own babbling for you.

You asked about “chemistry.” Chemistry is when you BOTH feel a strong desire, a level of excitement, and euphoria around each other, and feel very comfortable. I have been on many dates where things were forced, a bit flat. You might even like what you see but the person just doesn't seem right. Chemistry is when you just like each other a lot and get along effortlessly, and you want to be close and touch and kiss and can't get enough of each other. Basically, it comes down to if you feel good around each other and if it seems natural or forced. And it must be mutual or else it's just one person's desire.

I must say that chemistry, in my experience, is almost always immediate. You feel it and then it is confirmed over the course of a few hours. A first meeting can be a bit awkward but you feel a desire to get closer and then you wait to see if you can tell if the other person feels the same. Then once you get past the guarded stance and acknowledge that you both like each other, then you just feel really good around each other. It is largely a feeling of validation that happens when two people like each other and they know that the other likes them back. I like you and you like me and all is well with the world.

Well, anyway, I will chat with you some more. Since I am not going to see you I, am going to be a bad boy and drink some beer and play some games and I will sleep in. I hope to talk to you tomorrow. Gimme a call some time. I miss your voice.

----------------------

Sadly, I have few photos of Leif during the last three years of his life, because I didn't see him as often in those years. I've posted most of the good ones already, sometimes more than once. I liked to post photos that were taken at about the time of the events I'm writing about, but in this case, I don't have a good 2005 photo to use, so I'm posting one he took of himself in August 2003, actually two years before he wrote this email to LA. He took it in the living room of the house where he was living at 710 N. 9th Street in Manhattan, Kansas, a couple of months after he graduated from Kansas State University. I think that period from 2003-2004 was his handsomest period during his post-army years.

Another Short-Term Love Begins

In June 2005, at roughly the same time Leif was writing to J about the end of their relationship and to his friend about his wild ride around Tampa Bay on his motorcycle, he struck up a correspondence with LA, a woman he met through an online dating service. I say "met," but they didn't actually meet until they had corresponded and talked on the phone for well over a month. This was to be Leif's new mode, spending a lot of time getting to know a woman before he was willing to meet her in person. This woman was a very prolific correspondent and he seemed to love it. The email between them was by far the most I saw him write to anyone. She brought out a willingness to express himself that I didn't see with anyone else, at least not to that extent. And, he quickly began to hope for a real love and romance again. After only corresponding for about a week, he wrote the message below to her.

July 3, 2005

Now its my turn to babble at you while a bit out of my mind. I have had a a few drinks and am tired and am freed of my inhibitions and logical nature. This will be one of the times you get to hear my thoughts without the filter of goal oriented, logical reasonisng. Enjoy and and try not t hold it against me or take too much advantage.

I know I have been telling you not to get your hopes up but I should be telling that to myself instead. I am not sure what it is but I have an instinct about you and I think we may have something. Despite my better judgement I am getting my hopes up. I have waited so long to meet a woman I could be happy with. Have I told you that I think that the most brilliant symbol in the universe is the Yin Yang? That is such a profound sybollic image for me, a full circle made of two parts, each flowing into the other, each one half of the whole; complete opposite, but each having a little of the other inside them so they can understand each other. But therwise opposites. Neither is complete alone.

That is how I have always felt. Like I was a Yang looking for a Yin. I am a brilliant man, tall, strong, and some say good looking. I am very smart and educated. Talented, and from what I hear, pretty good in bed. I am on one hand one hell of a guy.

On the other hand.....

I am a complete mess.

I am a horrible bachelor. I hate cleaning. I am totally inept at all things domestic. My bedroom is covered with piles of clean clothes that I will likely never fold. My kitchen will always be full of dishes that need to be done. I am on one hand very independent and impressive, and on the other a completely hopeless mess that needs a woman to take care of me.

I like the idea that two people can take care of each other, that a man can care for and support and provide for a woman and she can make a home for him and their children. I have much more respect for a woman that can be a good wife and mother than one that can be a CEO of a company. Not that women can't do such things, and not that I wouldn't respect a woman that chose to or doubt their capability, but I believe that the feminine tasks often considered "Women's work" are some of the most noble and valuable tasks in society.

I believe that the most perfect relationship we could hope for is one where each person takes care of the other, performing all the tasks that the other is not suited for.

Yes, he should have been telling himself not to get his hopes up, but as I've written before, once something "clicked" with a woman, he was racing ahead in his hopes and dreams, wishing so hard that he'd found the one who could be the person he was writing about above, the one who could make a home for him, give him something to come home TO, someone to work for, someone to complete him.

One of the other things he discovered in the course of this correspondence was how fulfilling it was to find a woman who was intelligent and literate. Here's what he had to say about it:

I never used to think that was a priority to me, having an intelligent mate. Friends told me it was what I needed but to be perfectly honest, and a the risk of sounding a bit arrogant, I am *($(%*&ing brilliant. I think I already told you that I test at between a 120 and 140 IQ, so I am used to being smarter than everyone around me. The only woman I have ever known that can match my intellect is my own mother, which in combinaton with my father's very strange and different sort of brilliance, produced my mind.

I never made finding a smart woman a priority because intelligent conversation was not something that I necessarily needed from a mate, if you can understand that. I can get philosophical discussion from a platonic friend. What I need from a woman is physical and emotional intimacy.

The problem I did run into, though, which I didn't foresee, is that on some level I did not have the same respect for women that I felt to be my intellectual and educational inferiors. While I never did anything to deliberately make any of them feel inferior, I would just be myself and some women, including my ex wife, would not understand what I was talking about, and as she said to me, "I feel stupid when I am around you," which is not something I want to hear. I don't want to hear that me being myself makes my significant other feel bad about herself.

By July 17th, he was falling in love with a woman he had never met, thinking already about a future together. In typical Leif fashion, he wrote things to her when he was drunk, when his inhibitions were loosened. Leif was a mellow drunk. Even when he'd had a lot to drink (and at his size and with his history of drinking, he could drink a lot without appearing drunk), he was lucid. I think one of the reasons he drank so much was to lower his inhibitions . . . and also to help himself sleep, to chase away the demons and the depression, but in the end, so much alcohol was terribly bad for his health, made him gain a lot of weight, and probably increased the depression he was trying to escape.

However, in July 2005, he was still hoping for love, falling in love fast, and writing this to LA after corresponding and talking just over three weeks. The subject line on this email was "Slightly Drunken Ramblings."

Hello My Sweet.

It is late, not  really late, but kinda late, and I am not really drunk, but kinda drunk. Just cracked my 6th Corona, which is enough to have me feeling mellow and a bit less inhibited.

Somehow I feel compelled to talk to you, though I am not sure I have anything specific to say. What does that mean? That I crave contact with you for no reason in particular. The truth is, I missed you tonight. That is a strange and bitter-sweet feeling. I have not even met you, yet I already am missing you.

Tonight I am filled with incomplete thoughts, things that are going on in my heart and mind that I can't necessarily articulate. I do have one thought in my head that is bouncing around. I seem to remember saying it to you, but then it may just be deja vu and I only thought of saying it to you.

That thought is that I want to tell you things that some other part of me says I should not. It is that the part that remembers all those stories saying how you do not reveal to much and never admit to anything so that you can maintain power etc., all those bullshit games that people play to get what they want according to what players of the dating game tell us what we are supposed to do. Don't reveal to much. Don't give up control, don't be too enthusiastic. I HATE THAT!!!

I have always hated the game. Hated the bullshit maneuvering, manipulation, and defense mechanisms that people use to try and get what they want without ever exposing themselves or relinquishing control. Never give up the advantage. I am sick of it. Does no one know how to be honest anymore? Does no one have the courage? I suppose not. I have been guilty of romantic cowardice on many occasions.

So that part of me is trying to tell me that I should keep my mouth shut and maintain the advantage. That may be the way to play things if I was looking for a piece of ass but I feel something different with you. The very thought of not being honest with you disgusts me right now.

Pause, sorry if I am rambling or if this is a bit random and disorganized, but as I said, this is not a coherent thought. I am just typing what comes to me.

Anyway, what I am getting at is that I feel a real connection to you. My rational mind tells me I am nuts and that I should not put much stock in this but my heart is in another place. You said you had a feeling about us. Women's intuition. I, too, have a feeling, a feeling I often try not to indulge.

I suppose that after my last relationship with J, where I got my heart broken so badly, I am wary of getting my hopes up. I don't ever want to feel that way again. Yet I can't deny what I am feeling with you and that my instincts tell me there is really something here.

So anyway, I am rambling again. What I am trying to say is that I have a powerful feeling about you. I am, despite myself, very hopeful about what may become of us. I have often dreamed and hoped that I might one day meet that perfect girl that could complete me, that could fulfill me and give me everything I need and want, and who needed and wanted everything that I could give. But now I am on one hand elated that I just might have found her, and terrified that this could just be a cruel joke played by the fates.

I hope this is not a dream that will not be. On the other hand, I have many thoughts that are quite premature and things that few men would ever acknowledge. I picture moments in our future. Moments men are trained not to get into and images we never seem to want to admit.

I find myself lying in bed, or alone and tired and bored at work, and I have images come to me that are beautiful and wonderful but of which I have no guarantee they will ever be. When I am in bed going to sleep, I often find my arms around a pillow, imagining it is you, and imagining we have been together. I imagine what it would be like to tell you that I loved you and to have you tell me so also. I miss saying those words and meaning it. I love the thought that if we do work out that someday I might be saying them to you everyday. Of course I imagine making love to you but I also imagine our lives later. Imagining our wedding. Imagining you pregnant with my child.

This may be a little much. Now I worry about scaring you off. I am not insane. I am telling you things because I am conflicted between my practical self and my hopeful self.

I am suddenly fading fast. Beers gone, very sleepy. Bottom line, LA, is that you are special to me and I have a very strong feeling about you. I want to write more but I must crash. I hope that you will value this uninhibited glimpse into my mind.

Leif.

Despite all his love of gadgets and guns, his need for speed, his cars and motorcycles, deep inside Leif was an old-fashioned romantic looking for an old-fashioned relationship, one of love and rather traditional roles . . . but he would have wanted a woman who could tolerate those aspects of his personality that would have been challenging, and I wonder if he could have curbed them, or moderated his drinking. Perhaps. Sometimes it is love that makes things change. We will never know.
---------------
The photo of Leif was taken May 31, 2003 in Dover, Delaware at his brother's home where we were holding a surprise family reunion in honor of Leif's grandmother's 85th birthday. He had just graduated from Kansas State University and was opening his graduation gift from his brother. He was 28 years old.

Escapist Driving Way Too Fast

During the very same time Leif was back in contact with J and telling her how her leaving had affected him, professing his love, and seeming to us as though he were still depressed, spending endless hours online playing Planetside and drinking himself to sleep with several beers every night, he was portraying a far different picture, at least for a short time, to some others. Reading his email now, it seems almost schizophrenic.

On the one hand, he was in a new job and had hopes of rising in the company to a substantial income. He was looking for female companionship and love online with match.com and eharmony.com and other dating sites. He spent most of his off-work time at home, though he was dating, and most of his time at home online playing games and looking for women. I was still worried about him. And also worried because although he was earning a good living and basically had no living expenses living with us that year, he wasn't saving any money for his eventual move to Tampa. Instead, he bought his new super-fast Suzuki motorcycle.

We had never liked him riding a cycle, partly because we knew of the inherent danger (which he pooh-poohed) and partly because we were certain that it increased that danger immensely by driving far too fast, which he did in his car as well. It was a continue worry to us that he would smash himself up in a motorcycle crash and either kill himself or be maimed for life. I've posted exchanges between us about that before, including the account of the accident he did have, ironically at a low speed in Tampa in traffic when a car swerved in front of him. I always kept my cell phone with me in case he had to call in an emergency, or some emergency personnel called me. I will always remember the call that I did get that July 2007, from a young couple who stopped and helped him when he had the accident in Tampa.

I guess we were all lucky that he never killed himself or anyone else with his cycle or car. I am thankful for that. I'm thankful he never injured or maimed himself or anyone else. And reading the email I am going to post makes me aware just how great that danger was.

Leif wanted love, a home life, a purpose. Maybe if he'd found it, he would have modified his behavior. Maybe not. We will never know, but I do know that I told him that if he was going to continue to live like that, he'd better get a large term life insurance policy and be sure if he married he had a wife prepared to be a widow or take care of an invalid. He peppered me with statistics showing that most motorcycle accidents happen in a cycle rider's first six months when they are not experience riders, but that didn't satisfy my concerns.

Despite Leif's desire for a home life and love, he didn't seem to grasp that the kind of life he was leading was not going to help him find that. He did what he did because his life was empty and he filled it with thrill rides, hooked on adrenaline. He loved riding more than anything else in his life. As he stated to me more than once, he would rather be homeless than without a motorcycle. It really was an addiction for him. I sometimes wonder whether even that had something to do with his suicide, that because of his debts he might have to face giving up and selling his cycle . . . something his dad had urged him to do, though we didn't know the extent of his debts that final time around until after he died. He hid that from us, thinking, I'm sure, that he didn't want us to know he had gotten in over his head a third time, and this time worse than the others.

But in June 2005, three months after moving to Florida, he was still hopeful, still alternating between the hope of a bright future in a new, sunny, warm place (so that he had less problems with his asthma), the hope of meeting a new love, the joy of owning a new, super-fast cycle, and the depression that was still there after losing J. Like many men, he "medicated" his depression with expensive man-toys and dangerous, fast living. He got far too little sleep most of the time, drank too much, and drove too fast.

Leif lived like there was no tomorrow
And it became tragically true.

It took less than three years from the time he wrote this "triumphant" email (one which horrifies me at his admissions of extreme speeds) to a male friend to the suicide when riding no longer overcame the dark depression. He might not have lived as long as he did if anything had gone wrong on a ride like this one.

It seems to me there is way more than a little self-delusion here, for a man who is writing to his lost love and missing her terribly, the same lost love he was still writing to two months before he died. That man was escaping through adrenaline. He was not happy. It may have been a euphoric day for him, the one he describes, but it never lasted. This may be a portrait, the best one I've seen, of the possibility of bipolar disorder.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005, 6:01 PM

Want to know the real reason you see less people online? How's this for an excuse for absence?

So, Sunday I chill out and play PS cuz it's raining. Watch a movie for a change and finally got to bed around 2 a.m. Wake up at 5 a.m. to go to work. Work from 6:30 a.. to 1:30 p.m. Come home, post topic about Markov play. Go to doctor's office to make sure I am in good standing for when the VA audits my disability.

So, then I get out of there and decide to find out where the doctor's office road goes. OOOOh, lots of secluded straightaways for doing wheelies. Twist the throttle a few times, scare some cows at a farm I didn't even know was there and end up on Hwy 301 south. Pass the light and hit the throttle again. Roll down the wheelie and chill looking at the big puffy white clouds and blue sky and walls of green trees on either side and think to myself how unfair it is to the rest of humanity that they don't live in sunny Florida.

I glance down at the speedo and an amused smile comes over my face as I realize I am doing 103 down 301.

While I consider 103 mph a perfectly reasonable cruising speed on a nice lonely highway I sadly ran into traffic and had to slow down. Damn semis throw up so much sand. OK, drop a gear, twist the gas and zoooom right around the semi. Ah, sand free fresh air again. OH LOOK! 135mph. OK, maybe I should slow down.

By now I am way down the road. Could turn around in some farmer's driveway but why? It's gorgeous out. Why turn around? To go home and play Planetside? I think not. So, sign says 35 miles to Sarasota. Why not? I haven't rode through Sarasota yet.

So I cruise on down, hit the coast and run down Anna Maria Island through Bradenton Beach. Stop at Coquina Beach to check it out. Drooled a bit at a way to hot and probably too young Yummy Redhead in an Ursula Andress bikini.

So, back on the road. Rolled down to St. Armand's Circle and did a loop. Hopped off at Lido beach, watched some bikinis, listened to the waves crash and then headed into Sarasota in search of a beer and grouper sandwich.

Sadly, could not find a nice salty beach bar with grilled mahimahi to die for so hit Hwy 41 north to head back. Then saw the sign. "Motorcycle Mondays" at Hooters. 10% off your bill if you rode in. I'm there. Got me a big grouper sandwich and sucked down two ice waters and an Amber bock while watching a parade of hotties in tit-hugging tanks tops go by.

Paid the bill, ripped a wheelie out of the parking lot and headed back.

Was about to hit the turn for the interstate home and then impulse got the better of me. Cranked the throttle, turned left and hit the Sunshine Skyway over Tampa Bay on my way to to St Pete Beach to watch the sunset. Looked around. It's a long bridge and no cops around, so after a moment to appreciate the view, twisted the throttle and rolled up to the top of the bridge at 140 mph. Rolled it back to enjoy the view front the top of the Skyway bridge, then looked down to see a huge gap in the cars. A question entered my mind: how fast could I get this thing up to before I catch up to those cars ahead? Answer: 150 mph as it turned out. Rolled it back a bit and cruised through traffic at about 85 till I hit St. Pete Beach.

Pulled up to the "Daquiri Deck" in St. Pete Beach just in time to sip a pina colada as the sun went down. Started up around towards Tampa again and realized I was gettin tired. It was 9:30 p.m. and save for Hooters and the daq I had been in the saddle since since 4:00 p.m. So I was up around where this girl I used to date said she lived.

So I called her. She invites me over. I am all hot and sweaty. Need a shower bad. She says let's jump in the pool. So there I am floating on my back in an 80 degree pool with a chick in a bikini thinking, “Wow life really sucks. how am I going to survive?” (sarcasm)

So it starts to get chilly. We go inside and get out of the wet suits. She starts showing me the latest sex toys she has to demo at her next couples' party and we chit chat about that. {One thing leades to another . . . } Then I must say goodbye. Looks like rain is coming and she has to work early. Life's rough.

So I am riding down Adamo Drive on my way towards Brandon, making my full loop of Tampa Bay and it starts to thunder out. I am a bit refreshed from a fresh swim but I could stand to get out of the saddle for a bit and don't want to get wet.

There isn't much on Adamo but closed car dealerships but I happen to notice a sign at "Showgirls" full nude club that says "Free admission with Military ID." I think, Hmm, I got a military ID. It's right here. It's gonna rain and if I am going to be stranded inside till it blows over I might as well be surrounded by hot naked chicks.

So that was fun.

Hung out, stared at all the yummy pussy that filled the room and fought off girl after girl trying to take me upstairs for a lap dance. I kept telling them I was just chilling but they just wouldn't stop. I am like, Look, I just came in here because it was free and I didn't want to get soaking wet and freeze on the ride home. They didn't take the hint and finally one particularly well-endowed one brought a friend and they double teamed me. They keep asking, "Why don't you like us? Don't you want to go have some fun?" To which I finally replied, "Look sweetie, don't get me wrong. You a babe, but not two hours ago I had a girl that didn't cost me a cent, so why would I want to pay you $25 do do far less?" They finally let up, as did the rain.

So, I hopped back in the saddle and on the way back home decided I was sick of I-75 and there are not likely to be a lot of cops on lonely Hwy 301 at 1:30 a.m. on a Monday night. I was right and ooooh what a sight. A lone, endless, perfectly straight road into the blackness. The little devil on my shoulder peeked behind to make sure the coast was clear. Yup, not a car in sight. No traffic. Throttle twisting back farther and farther.

70 mph, 80 mph, 90 mph, 100 mph, 110 mph, 120 mph. Such speeds are routine and commonly achieved while passing or heading up onramps on this thing. But then I kept twisting. 130 mph. Wind getting intense. Don't want to take eyes off the road. Curiosity gets the better of me and I look. 145 mph and still climbing like mad. 150 mph.

I look ahead to make sure there is plenty of road before I dare to take my eyes off and look down at the speedo again. Still miles of nothing ahead. I glance down quickly. 165 MPH!!!!! and still pulling hard. This thing is beyond evil. I shut it down and coast back to the speed limit and savor the shit-eating grin on my face. Then I look behind me. Nothing. Look ahead of me. More nothing. So now what? DO IT AGAIN, but this time in a lower gear so I get there FASTER. Muahahahahahah. Some day I will see the top end of 187 mph.

After some more foolish but fun life endangerment I make it to the intersection of my home. Take a right, hammer the gas, rip a nice power wheelie and then coast to the light and turn onto my street. A nice leisurely ride past all the houses looking at the moon, into the driveway and drop my keys on the counter.

I head to the computer and see a message from this girl from match.com. The one that is a real estate broker by day and a exotic dancer by night. You should see the pictures. Tells me I shoudl come out to her club tonight so we can finally meet. I think I just might. May not see me online tonight either.

And that was a $)#*&%ing MONDAY!!!

I wish I had two accounts so that I could TK myself next time I log on for having this much fun.

Well, the bike is beckoning. Got women to meet. Some guy that wants to to give me a job at almost double my already generous salary, an ultra hot rich stripper girl to meet tonight, and two other girls that want to get together tomorrow.

Yea,h Summer in Florida.

--------------------------

The photo of Leif on his Suzuki (which was stolen from his apartment complex parking lot in Tampa after less than a year) was taken as he rode out of our driveway on November 7, 2005, almost exactly two years before he wrote the email to me saying his life was purposeless and bleak. What a contrast.

Telling Her Why Men Are Happy With "Real" Women

After Leif wrote to J about what happened to him after she left him, which I posted last, she replied some days later. She told him she often ran from the things that would make her the happiest and from commitment, and that she also ran because she couldn't believe he loved her. She was insecure about her looks and figure, and those insecurities were made worse because Leif had a large collection of pictures of "hot chicks," to whom she didn't think she could compare. His reply explains a lot about his own (and some other men's) psychology, and trust Leif to find a way to compare choosing a woman to choosing a car!

However, the end of this letter is terribly poignant. Leif, the hurt man who was so devastated by her leaving him and breaking the engagement, does is best to make her believe she is wonderful and worthy of love.

Thursday, June 30, 2005, 12:11 AM

It's funny reading this and then looking at pics of you. I understand what you were feeling but I look at the pics from Christmas, or Thanksgiving at my grandma's, and of you in that gorgeous black dress you wore to the WWC party and I just can't help but think how beautiful you looked. Women are always so much more critical of themselves than men ever are. I was so in love with you and I thought you were gorgeous. I remember reading things from your ex and he said things to you that were similar about the beauty of seeing you as a mother - when you thought you were fat.

It is cruel that women are tormented so.

Let me try to give you some perspective, because while you certainly have some demons to vanquish your appearance should be the least of them. I always loved looking at you, touching you, and was completely in love with you.

But as to guys looking at and fantasizing about these models and porn stars and such, surely you knew someone growing up that had a poster of a Ferrari or Lamborghini on his wall. What guy hasn't had dreams of having such a car? Every teenage boy had a poster of a hot car at some point in his life. It is a dream, a fantasy, and that is all.

In reality men drive Hondas and Chevys and Fords and they love their cars. When a man goes shopping for a car it is no different than shopping for a wife. He has many choices. There are sedans, SUVs, sports cars. There are many different models and sizes in each category from many makers. Inevitably he choses one, and in most cases it is not a Lamborghini.

Now I know what you are gonna say. They can't afford the Lamborghini. And to some extent that is true, just like most men aren't rich and famous enough to date a super model. There is that factor, but there is more than that.

Even if we could afford such a car, would we really chose to own one? What would it really be like? I will tell you. One, you can never be comfortable with it. You will always worry, worry that as hot as it is, someone will steal it away from you. Worried that someone will run a shopping cart into it. Worried it will get wrecked. Always worried, because it is too remarkable to just enjoy and be happy with.

Also, it is expensive. The insurance is crazy. It's high maintenance, expensive parts and up keep. And impractical. Can't do anything real with it because it is so exotic and fragile

No, realistically men like their Hondas and Chevys and Fords. They are HAPPY with them. But don' t think that if a Ferrari pulls up along side they aren't going to check it out. They are going to look and say, “Wow, look at that thing!” But if someone asked them, “Would you trade your beloved Mustang GT for a Ferrari and all that would go with owning it, most would be tempted but in the end they would say, “No, I got a good thing going here. Not going to mess it up.”

It is the same with women.

Looking at a hot girl is like looking at a hot car, but when we think about being with her, it's just like the hot car, a fantasy; but the reality wouldn't be that great. You'd always be paranoid that she would leave you for some Brad Pitt type. A woman like that is always getting offers from other men. Do you trust her enough and are you confident enough in her love that she wouldn't find someone better than you?

You talk about your insecurities about your body. Do you have any idea how nuts and paranoid my flabby ass would be if I was dating Angelina Jolie? I would be insane with jealousy, afraid that any minute she would find a better looking man and leave me for Brad Pitt. I would not be able to even feel safe or secure or content in her love for me. You never want your woman to be significantly hotter than you or "out of your league," so to speak, because you will always be waiting for the day she will wake up and realize she can do better.

Men look at hot girls like they look at hot cars. They like the idea of them but not the reality. In reality they want a match for themselves, a normal girl for a normal guy, one they can feel comfortable and secure with, and when they have that wonderful feeling of love and satisfaction they would not trade it for the hottest girl in the world because enticing as that may be, she is but a dream and dreams are not meant to last.

I loved you because with you I had a feeling I had never felt before and it was wonderful and I wanted it to last the rest of my life. I was in love with you and I thought you were beautiful, not just your flesh but your soul.

I have dated many women since we broke up. Many are good people but I compare all of them to you and none measure up. I have had sex with many of them but it is always a mediocre experience. It's like I am going through he motions but I am never really into it. It is flat, empty and unfulfilling. After the magical lovemaking I remember with you, it's just sex, and not even good sex.

But anyway, the point of this is to make you understand that you should not think so poorly of yourself. If nothing else, read these words and believe them as they are the truth. I loved you just the way you were. I picked out the gorgeous ring and gave it to you because I wanted to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you just the way you were. I have never been as happy in my entire life as those few months when you loved me, and I have never been so sad in my life as when you took that away from me.

You are a beautiful and tragic person, a scarred and scared soul that deserves to be loved, if only you will have the courage to let someone love you and trust them when they say they do. You are not perfect. Who is? I am very flawed myself. I have many good qualities but I have many flaws as well. Everyone has those insecurities. There were times when I thought to myself how lucky I was to have you and how scared I was that you would leave me, as I wondered, and still wonder, if I will ever find something so wonderful again. Fears that turned out to be well founded.

Just know, J, that if nothing else there was a man that loved you just the way you were and that you don't have to be anything more. If you want to get thinner, get a boob job or whatnot for yourself, hey, do so if it would help your self esteem, but you are a beautiful person just the way you are.

Know that J. Read this sentence over and over if you have too.

Leif loved me just the way I am. Leif wanted to marry me and spend the rest of his life with me.

Keep telling yourself that 'til you start to believe it.

--------------------

The photo of Leif was taken April 4, 2004 in Manhattan, Kansas. I never liked that particular pair of glasses. Leif always wanted fashionable specs. I thought these were just kind of "evil" looking. They seemed to small for him, to me, and were bent so that they fit his face pretty much like a glove. I still have his last pair of glasses. What am I to do with them? I donated the others to the Lions Club vision program, but the last pair he had, I can't quite bring myself to part with.