My Visit With My Princess. . .

 

To Read Our 6 Part Story, 26 Years, Click Here

I hardly slept the night before.  All I could do was think of Joy.  Ten years had passed since I last saw her and the truth of what had happened was harder to deal with than anything else, but this visit would either wash away the past or kill our future.  I knew I loved her but would our love be enough this time?  I needed to see her to know if my memories of how she used to make me feel were real or what I wanted to remember.

In the morning I was trying to get ready and focus my mind.  She had kept telling me she got old and fat, but with her it has always been hard to tell what is fact and what is her imagination.  She has always had a distorted body image and she had battled with a horrible eating disorder for many years.  I love her so much, but I was ready for anything.  I needed her to feel beautiful no matter what the situation was.  She kept telling me no matter what I did she would think I thought she was fat and old.  This was a lot of pressure because I love this woman, and I didn’t want to cause her any pain.

The visits start at 9am and when I last talked to her, she was driving to NY the night before.  When I woke up there was snow on the ground and it was coming down hard.  Joy told me the hotel she was going to stay at was 11 miles away.  I figured her SUV would make it, I was just hoping she wasn’t catching cold feet.  I was showered and ready, but time felt like it was at a stand still. When 10 am rolled around I heard the officer’s jingling keys downstairs and I was about to beg him for an emergency call when he called up to me; “Deleyer, on the visit”.  My nerves washed away and I was overjoyed.  It was finally time to see my princess.  I had packed up a few things I was planning on sending home with her.  I had 3 paintings, 3 marble notebooks that contained my book and a little purple bear I had a guy in here make for her.  I grabbed my bag and was on my way.

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I walked into the visiting room and I saw her right away.  Yes, she had put on some weight but Continue reading “My Visit With My Princess. . .”

10 Years Lost. . .My Visit With Jeff

 

Click To Read Our Full Story – 26 Years 

I was supposed to go and see Jeff next Tuesday, the 7th.  I had everything scheduled and set to go, but I woke up yesterday morning and something inside of me said you need to go now.  I don’t know why, but I felt as though I had to go. I spent my day yesterday running around doing everything I needed to do in order to leave. I arrived home, packed my suitcase, settled the kids and left around 8:30pm.

I speak with Jeff twice a day.  Yesterday morning he called and I told him I was coming.  Oh my goodness, he was beyond excited!  Of course, I was nervous.  I am not the same woman I once was, I am 65lbs bigger.  We haven’t seen each other in 10 years, and I abandoned him without so much as a word.  I was nervous, afraid of him seeing me, what it could do to him.  I thought it may have the reverse effect on him, maybe it would trigger him.  I don’t know. The thought of this had my stomach in knots.

I arrived in Corning NY at 2am.  I was beyond exhausted.  I checked into the hotel and fell asleep almost immediately.  I woke up around 7 am and started to get ready, and checked out of the hotel about 90 minutes later.  It was snowing outside and just nasty and windy.  I packed my suitcase and drove off. I stopped at a Target on the way to grab an umbrella and made my way to the prison.  Once I arrived I had this sinking feeling. I can’t explain to you how entering a prison makes you feel.  I have always hated this.  I hate everything about prison.  Most of the correctional officers have a nasty attitude and attempt to talk down to you, it just isn’t a pleasant experience.

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I had never been to this prison before. Jeff has now been in every single Maximum Security Prison in the state of NY, some of them twice.  But Elmira Correctional Facility Continue reading “10 Years Lost. . .My Visit With Jeff”

A MUST READ FOR PARENTS WITH A DRIVING TEENAGER. . .

 

My son is 17 and has his Driver’s License. . .I found this on Pinterest and made him read it. Its a Dear Abby editorial from June of 1976 and EVERY parent should read this and have their driving teen read this too!

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Please God, I’m Only 17

The day I died was an ordinary school day. How I wish I had taken the bus. But I was too cool for the bus. I remember how I wheedled the car out of Mom. “Special favor,” I pleaded. “All the kids drive.”

When the 2:50 bell rang, I threw all my books in the locker. I was free until 8:40 tomorrow morning! I ran to the parking lot, excited at the thought of driving a car and being my own boss. Free!

It doesn’t matter how the accident happened. I was goofing off — going too fast. Taking crazy chances. But I was enjoying my freedom and having fun. The last thing I remember was passing an old lady who seemed to be going awfully slow. I heard the deafening crash and felt a terrible jolt. Glass and steel flew everywhere. My whole body seemed to be turning inside out. I heard myself scream.

Suddenly I awakened; it was very quiet. A police officer was standing over me. Then I saw a doctor. Continue reading “A MUST READ FOR PARENTS WITH A DRIVING TEENAGER. . .”

I Broke Him. . .

 

Click To Read Our Full Story – 26 Years 

The past few days have been emotionally draining for me.  He just can’t seem to get over it.  Of course, I know this is all brand new to him. I came back after 10 years, with a child, after leaving him for dead in prison without even so much as a “goodbye” or an “I just can’t do this anymore”.  We don’t necessarily argue, but he vents, tells me how he feels and he’s broken down twice.  This makes me feel horrible, and I deserve to feel horrible for what I did to him.  I will never be able to fully understand what I put him through, just like he will never be able to understand what he put me through.  I was young, I was too naive, I couldn’t deal with his life in prison.  He tells me I didn’t love him, because if I loved him I could never do what I did to him.  I get it, I do. . .one would think I didn’t love him, but I will NOT allow anyone to tell me how I felt.  Because NO ONE knows how I felt.  No one knows how difficult it was for me to leave.  I have had my share of Karma, my ex broke me down. . .made me question everything about myself.  I had never felt so trapped in my life. . .it wasn’t just me, I had a family to consider.

I am in love with Jeff.  He has always been the one.  I thought about him constantly.  He literally haunted me.  I was going to post about it, the visions, when he was sitting by my side after my father died at the Cheeca Lodge, I actually have a full blog post about this, but even I knew it sounded crazy.  I sent one of my readers the blog post and although she didn’t come out and say it, I knew what she was thinking.  She told me, “you’re tired, you can edit it in the morning.”  But this is not how I write.  I do not edit, I do not change, what I feel is what I post.  I opted against sharing the “crazy post”, because even though it was so real for me, I didn’t think anyone else would be able to understand. . .Perhaps I am just crazy, I don’t know.  I just don’t know what to do at this point.   Continue reading “I Broke Him. . .”

Please Allow Me To Reintroduce Myself. . .

 

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I finally feel so free. I can’t explain the new found feeling of just feeling free. Not only am I free, but I am finally happy. Those who followed me during SAHW probably know more about my story. I have led a crazy life, filled with drama, love, heartbreak, betrayal and sadness. I feel like so much has happened in such a short period of time. In the past year, my life has changed drastically. But I can finally say I am happy. I have found peace and an extreme calmness has come over me. . .

I have shared my life with many of you over the years. This hasn’t always been easy. I didn’t handle the fame of SAHW well and opted against sharing Jeff. I couldn’t deal with the negativity I was already receiving and adding him into the equation would’ve been catastrophic for me at that time. However, I am in a different place and I just don’t care anymore. . . I am ready to share him, I am not ashamed of where he is or our current situation. I have loved him for what seems like a lifetime.

Most of you have followed “Ariella” for many years, through my original blog where I shared very personal details of my life, the SAHW website, or this blog. Ariella was my escape, my alter ego, my online alias. Ariella has died, I am burying her, she is being put to rest.

When I chose to share 26 years on my blog, it felt uncomfortable for me to share this under Ariella’s Ramblings. 26 Years was not a story of Ariella & Jeff, 26 years is the story of Joy & Jeff.

I appreciate all of the support I have received and I look forward to sharing my journey with you!

Thank you Ladies!

Joy

 

26 Years. . .Told by Jeff. . .

 

“This was very difficult for him to write.  He really had an issue with writing about the point where I left him for dead.  Due to this, he said he couldn’t write everything he feels, at least not now because the pain is too fresh”.

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The music was loud on the cellblock, the racket was so normal, that any seasoned inmate has the ability to tune out the noise.  At this point in my life, I had already been in prison for 5 years, so I had no issue reading my book during the regular chaos.  My cell was #17 out of 40 cells on the prison tier.  I was in the middle but even through all the loud music and noise, I heard a woman’s voice, “female walking on the company”.  In prison, when a woman is on the cell block, they will announce their presence so the men know to be dressed appropriately. Mrs. Scott was my inmate counselor and once every three months she called me into her office to check on my progress with my programs and such. When Mrs. Scott stopped in front of my cell it was a little bit of a shock. However, the message she was about to deliver was one I never saw coming.  This message would change my life.  After a quick greeting, Mrs. Scott told me a friend from my past had called her and wanted to come visit me.  I was excited and told Mrs. Scott to please tell her to come.  Mrs. Scott gave me such a scare because she said she wasn’t sure if she had kept her number, but god was on my side and she would make it up to see me. When she left from in front of my cell I laid back in my bed, my book forgotten and drifted back in time.  

The year was 1991 and I had been sent to Saint James out on Long Island to live with my Grandmother.  I had been getting into trouble in my old neighborhood, so they all decided I needed to go live with Grandma.  Smithtown High School was located in a middle to upper class area in Long Island, and I was coming from a different world.  When I walked into Smithtown High School I swear everyone was looking at me like I was from outer space.  I had my leather 8 ball jacket on and my Nike Air Max’s which matched my jacket.  I don’t think they had ever seen anything like me.  I had a cousin who went to the school and I knew a couple of the girls who had ridden horses at my family’s horse farm, but I didn’t have any friends yet.  I have always been a people person, so I started making friends quickly. Plus, I was already in the drug game so I became popular real fast.  Sadly, at this time I was more interested in making drug sales, instead of going to class.  The school had an area called the commons where kids could smoke cigarettes and hangout when they didn’t go to classes.  This was my area because it was the best place to make money in the school.  One day I was out in the commons area and a kid named Tom was introducing me to people and teaching me the ropes of the school.  He introduced me to a group on girls.  One of the girls was a cute brown-haired, brown-eyed girl.  She had her pinch-rolled pants on and a pull over and when I looked at her she gave me the cutest smile in the world.  This was the girl who was due to show-up on the visit the next day. . .

Here I was, sitting in my cell in a maximum security prison convicted of a drug related murder and I was waiting for the hours to pass so I could see the woman I first met as a little girl.  My life in prison was crazy because of the violence that was a part of my every day, but the mention of her name allowed me to travel back in time in my cell.  I drifted back to my youth and my memories of her.  There was always something different about her.  She had this innocence.  She was a good girl and I was a “bad boy”, but I could talk to her about anything.  I had respect for her because she wasn’t like the other girls in my life who I never respected.  She would come with me and the boys when we would go surfing and she would sit on the beach and watch us surf for hours, even as late as November when we needed dry suits because it was so cold.  She would come to the different Raves with me, we went everywhere.  She was a good girl though.  Never one who was into drugs and she wasn’t one of the other girls who were spreading their legs for everyone.  She had too much respect for herself to be like the other girls.  I was very protective over her and kept her close so she stayed innocent.  

I was a wild kid.  I was selling drugs and getting involved in all sorts of nonsense.  I called my princess one night and told her that me and a few of the boys were going on a “surfing trip”.  A few minutes later I got into a stolen car loaded with drugs and surfboards, which seemed like a good idea at the time.  Of course I left out all the illegal details when I called her.  She made me promise to stop by her house.  I promised her I would and this would be one promise I didn’t keep.  I ended up getting locked up in Florida and when I got out, she was the only person from home I was speaking to.  She made me Christmas cookies with her mom and sent them to me.  One of the cookies she “thinks” put a small crack on my back molar, but I told her I ate all of them (even though they were horrible) because she made them for me and they were delicious! 😉  I was still wild and I needed to come home.  I liked Florida, but I have always been a New York boy. My mother (my aunt who raised me) came down to Florida to bring me home, but it wasn’t going to be peaches and cream upon my return.  As usual, the law had questions for me. Sadly, this would be a recurring theme in my life until one day, a judge would match my age with the time of my sentence he would eventually hand me.  
Continue reading “26 Years. . .Told by Jeff. . .”

I Don’t Know What To Do. . .

 

A little back story. I’ve been married once before to a very honorable man who literally saved my life my giving up his during a natural disaster in our city. We tried to have children by doing EVERYTHING scientifically possible. After he passed, I met my current husband when he moved here to help clean up the city. It took me a while to get comfortable with the idea of dating him, but he was persistent. I finally agreed and our connection was very strong. We were great partners when it came to everyday living. We problem solved together without even talking, we had amazing chemistry in the bedroom. We went on a cruise together and that’s how we came home with a little stowaway. I was pregnant! I never thought I could have children, ever. We weren’t married, and I did not pressure him to stay. I actually looked him dead in the eye and said, “I will be an amazing single mom if you want out.” Instead of leaving which is what I partially expected, he grabbed my hand and told me he wasn’t going anywhere. So I looked to God and thanked him for sending me such a great man and for giving me the ability to create a child in my womb. We got married when our daughter was 18 months old and had our second daughter right before she turned 3. This is when things started getting weird.

He became distant, almost like he had a grudge against me. If I asked him to do a simple gesture for me he would purposely not do it because I asked. When I had our 2nd daughter he was there physically, but not with his heart. Now to the cheating incidents. Yep, that’s plural. Continue reading “I Don’t Know What To Do. . .”

This End Is Truly The Beginning. . . (Part 5-26 Years)

 

Jeff wrote his version of our story as well.  It was so nice to read his side, and his memories. . . Click here to read 26 Years, Told By Jeff 

Jeff asked me the other day; “why didn’t you say something to me at the diner.  Why didn’t you just say Jeff, I love you and I can’t live without you and I need you to come with me right now. I want to get married and have our happily ever after, please come with me, I love you and I don’t want to be without you.”  I said to him; “what would you have done with all the girls in your car, would you have just left your crazy life and left with me?”  His response was, “I don’t know, I may have.  It was you, you were always the special one, you were always my little baby.”

This destroyed me. . .did I miss an opportunity, an opportunity that would’ve changed my life forever? Sadly, I will never know. . . I dreamt of our life often, especially when I wasn’t with him.  It was always the same day-dream, and for some reason, he always had the long blonde hair.  This night I was lost in thought. . .and I had to write to him to tell him the day-dream I have had for over 20 years. . .

I wanted everything with YOU Jeff.  I wanted to love you, to save you, to give you forever.  I wanted you to be the first and only man who would ever have me, the only man who had ever touched me. You were my first everything.  Did you know this? . . .because you were all I ever wanted and needed.  I wanted you to one day get on your hands and knees and tell me you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and ask me to marry you. I would of course cry and say yes.  I wanted us to get married, a small wedding, under the stars at the beach. . .on the sand and even though we would have guests, we wouldn’t be able to see them, because all we would see was each other.  And then I wanted us to buy our first house together, I wanted us to argue over what colors to paint the walls, what decor and furniture to put in this room and that room.  I wanted to throw my mini temper tantrums until you let me do whatever I wanted, because after all, I was your princess and you couldn’t stand to see me upset.  When I found out we were pregnant with our first child, I wanted to surprise you with something special, like a present with a onesie wrapped up that said “Prince DeLeyer” or “Princess DeLeyer” or something corny like this.  And when you looked at me with a confused look I would’ve had the pregnancy test in my hand. . .I can see you now (you have blonde hair in this day-dream) and you run up to me, pick me up and spin Continue reading “This End Is Truly The Beginning. . . (Part 5-26 Years)”

I Will Always Be In Love With You. . . (Part 4-26 Years)

 

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 

I couldn’t believe he was on the phone.  Oh my god, how I missed his voice.  My entire body was filled with butterflies, and I was beyond nervous.  I swear at this moment, memories just started flashing right before my eyes, the first time we locked eyes, the first time we kissed, us at the beach, the way he looked at me when I first went to see him in jail.  The love of my life, I could hear him, he was still here, he was still the man who loved me more than any man could dream of loving me. He was the one 26 years ago, and somehow he was still the one now. . .

They say when you’re young, you can’t possibly know what love is. They say puppy love isn’t real love.  I recall my mother telling me, one day when I become an adult, I wouldn’t even remember his name.  Obviously, she was wrong.  I tried for years to forget him, but was never able to.  And now he was back, on the phone speaking to me. . .my heart was pounding and I realized I was still so head over heels in love with this man!

My business was funny to him, he asked all sorts of questions.  I mean, I am in Bail bonds, which is probably the last business anyone who ever knew me would ever think I would end up building a career in.  Bail Bonds is a very male dominated industry, especially in Maryland.  But to be honest, I believe everything that happened in my life had a purpose.  I didn’t understand jail and prison.  However, being in the industry I was in gave me a strong understanding of how prison was, and it truly opened my eyes.  Bail bonds in a way, stripped me of my innocence.  I was no longer naive and was now extremely street smart.   Continue reading “I Will Always Be In Love With You. . . (Part 4-26 Years)”

Left For Dead. . . (Part 3 – 26 Years)

 

This is part 3. Here is Part 1 & Part 2

I was on my way to work when I emptied the mailbox.  He sent me 2 letters.  I was running late and had to get into my office.  I called my best friend on the drive in and just panicked.  She asked me what they said, and I said I didn’t know, I hadn’t opened them yet!  I knew I was going to open the one with the oldest date stamp first, but I was beyond nervous.  Oh, how my phone was ringing that morning in my office!  I was the only one working and just wanted a few minutes of peace and quiet so I could read the letters.  My stomach was churning, my hands were sweating, I was beyond afraid. . .Once it finally slowed down, I opened the 1st letter. . .

 

Letter #1

You have caught me at a loss for words and this is rare.  I don’t know how I feel because you fucked me up.  You’re the only woman I have loved in my life.  You don’t need to tell me how long it has been, because I’ve thought about you every day.  It’s nice to hear you moved on, because I never did.  You’re right, you don’t have a good reason for what you did because I was head over heels in love with you and you were getting on with your life.  You left me for dead like everyone else in my life.  I can understand that you wanted a man who was home, but I have always had to ask myself what’s wrong with me that I’m the only person who cares about Jeff.  It’s easier to think of me the way you remember someone who has passed away.  You claimed I saved you at a time where you thought you couldn’t be saved.  It’s funny the way you repaid me.

I’m sorry to hear about your father.  I lost grandma and you know how I felt about her.  My life is fucked up because after you abandoned me, I went crazy and I really hoped I would get killed behind these walls.  I don’t know if this letter makes any kind of sense, because on one hand I love you more than you will ever know, but on the other hand I want to spit in your face because you were supposed to love me for the rest of my life.  I don’t know what I am supposed to say to you, you didn’t even care about me enough to pay me the respect of coming to tell me face to face.  I understand more than you think because I understand this life of mine is fucked up.  I want to hear from you, I would never shut you out because I’m not you, but you are not forgiven.  I don’t know what you want from me.  I have shit going on because I’m trying to set up my life because once I get out of prison, I’m not coming back.  I just finished writing a book, “from handguns to paint brushes; how art changed my life”.  I am really good at painting and drawing now.  I was in two different college programs, but I keep getting kicked out of these prisons.  Right now I am in ad-seg because I told them I was done and they sent the hit squad at me 3 different times and couldn’t get the job done.  I ended up hurting them each time. I am not about to have shit go down like when I was “hit” in Greenhaven.  I’m just tired of all of this shit, I want to go home.  I have now spent more time in prison than I have free.  I almost married a girl I hated just because I was tired of being alone.   Continue reading “Left For Dead. . . (Part 3 – 26 Years)”