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 me around, put me down and say, “we are having a baby mama?” And I would say yes. I wanted to decorate the nursery with you, and just fight over names for our child. I can see me with a paintbrush in my hand, and my hair up in a messy bun and you kneeling down and kissing my belly. And when the time came when my water broke and it was time to go, I wanted to scream at you when you panicked because you couldn’t find the damn car keys and because you were beyond nervous, and didn’t know what the hell to do. When my contractions were so close and my pain was unbearable, I wanted to squeeze your hand and tell you I hated you when you were attempting to be supportive, because I was in so much fucking pain, and this was all your fault for all the “playing nice” you insisted on doing. And when our beautiful baby arrived and you held him/her for the first time, I wanted to reassure you how you were going to be the most amazing dad who ever lived, and I was so absolutely sure of this. I would’ve reminded you every single day how you weren’t like your father, even though everyone else told you, you were. I wanted to peek into the baby’s room while you were rocking the baby to sleep and just watch and listen to what you were whispering. . .and during birthdays and holidays I wanted to laugh and smile as we celebrated. I wanted to spend summer nights with you walking down the beach, and cold winter nights in front of the fire. When Halloween approached and I wanted to put up the Christmas Tree’s I wanted you to say under your breath, “here she goes again, but Christmas always makes her happy”, but then look at me and smile and say, “go ahead baby, I will get the boxes from the garage.” I wanted to raise our family, and just be happy. And when we had our little boy, I wanted you to teach him all the good in you. I wanted our children to grow up around horses and I wanted you to take our little boy surfing. Our daughter would’ve definitely been a mini me but our son would have been a mini version of you. And I wanted you to see how amazing our kids had turned out, because they had an incredible father who just hadn’t a clue as to how amazing he was. And after a while, you would have realized they were ok, you didn’t ruin them, the curse was over and they were going to be fine. . I wanted to fight with you about stupid shit, just so we could make up, and I wanted to look at you and kiss you, just like the first time we kissed when we were kids. I would’ve still been jealous over other women, but I would’ve been secure, because after all, we had everything. We would have had a life everyone else would envy. Even though this was apparently not the life we were meant to have, I know it will still be a beautiful life. Don’t you get it? People envy our love now. We have something we both believe no one else in the world has. And although it wasn’t what I would dream about since I was a little girl, I have to think that maybe one day we will have something close.
I was still reeling from the shock of him blatantly saying he wouldn’t marry me. I know this man better than he knows himself, and I would’ve bet my life he would have said yes. But I was wrong. . .
Of course he had reasons, he said to me, “You don’t want to marry me in prison, you didn’t want to back then, and I know you don’t want to now. You have always wanted our beach wedding, even if it was just you and me on the beach. Now that I have you back, I will never pressure you to do anything I know you don’t want to do ever again.”
Did he pressure me to get married back then? Kind of. . .He is in NY prison, and NY is one of the only states left that offers conjugal visits. If we were married, we would be able to spend an entire weekend, once every 3 months in a 2 bedroom apartment in the prison. Just us. At that time in my life, the thought of a prison wedding was beneath me. I didn’t want to marry the love of my life in a prison visiting room. I have seen it done, women actually wear wedding dresses to get married to their fiance in prison. I always felt weird when I witnessed this, embarrassed even. I was young, and this wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted my beach wedding. So we never ended up getting married and he was fine with this.
When I came back, I came back a different person. I was a grown woman now, strong and sure. I wanted to marry him and I didn’t care where we were married. Granted, I wouldn’t have been one of the women who wore a wedding dress, but. . .I would’ve been content with wearing yoga pants or jeans. After all, it was prison, and I knew once he came home, we would have our beach wedding. But I wanted to do this, because it would assist with parole and I would love to be locked away with him for 4 weekends a year. He didn’t approve of my reasoning. He didn’t want me to do something because it would look good for him with the parole board. He wanted me to marry him, because I loved him, and because I couldn’t imagine my life without him. I thought this was obvious to him, but. . .
We went back and forth for days, and he stuck to his guns. He even detailed his reasoning in a letter. He was very sure and there was nothing I could do to convince him otherwise. Ironically, we spoke that day and he came back to his cell to finish the letter and stated, “as usual, you get your way”. This was the day I gave him an ultimatum. Basically, if you love me you will marry me, but if you’re not sure if you love me I understand how you can’t marry me. With my reasoning and an ever so slight twist of manipulation he caved and asked me my ring finger size. Normally, the women have to purchase their own wedding ring, but Jeff would never allow me to do this. It may not be him on his hand and knees proposing, but he will pull off something amazing. He always has. . .
I don’t care what kind of ring he gets me, but we spoke of a Ruby ring. I used to love diamonds, but I watched the movie Blood Diamond and I just can’t fathom owning a diamond anymore. He thinks my reasoning is ridiculous, but Ruby is his birthstone and this is what I want. So he told me he will think about this. . .
The next morning he called and he said; “can you manage to be quiet for a few minutes, is this possible?” And he said. “I know this is not the way it was supposed to be, and this is not the way we both would like to do this but. . .I have loved you since you were a little girl, but I truly fell in love with you as a grown woman. Our love is special and one of a kind. We have both made mistakes along our travels, yet, our love not only endured but became stronger. If you will have me, I’d like to spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy. You have always been my princess, but I am asking you to become my wife. Will you become Mrs. DeLeyer and promise to love me for the rest of your life? That is, if you’re not doing anything more important.”
I cried my eyes out, and considering our situation, this was the most romantic proposal ever. I immediately asked, “omg did you write this down?” He said “of course I did” and laughed. I told him I wanted it. He was like, “ok its on the back of an envelope and I will send it to you!” He promised he will do it all over again, the way it was supposed to be when he comes home. . .but just maybe, this is the way we are supposed to be. Maybe this is the sacrifice I must make to be with someone who loves me more than anyone can love me. . .and for someone who I am certain would never betray me.
So we are planning on getting married. . .as soon as we can.
I am beyond happy. . .I haven’t had the opportunity to see him yet, but I will be seeing him the end of this month. I was nervous, because we haven’t seen each other in such a long time, and I have put on so much weight. What if he doesn’t feel the spark anymore? I am not the same woman. I sent him a semi picture, head shot, and a little bit of the now fat body. I told him I gained a shit load of weight, but he tells me he just doesn’t care. And ironically, I believe him. When he received my photo his exact words were; “you’re ridiculous, are you on drugs? What were you expecting me to see? You’re still my princess and you’re still absolutely gorgeous.” He sent me a recent photo as well, and he looks exactly the same. He has not aged at all. (this ticked me off a little bit. . .but. . .)
This is my story. . .Although this is the end, it is truly just the beginning. . .I have held him in for what it seems like forever. I wanted to share him through my writing for years, but I was just so afraid. I am not afraid anymore.
I understand we will face many bumps in the road. . .being a prison wife is not easy. But once upon a time we had so long to go, now we only have a few years. I have spent years without him and I was miserable. He makes me happy, he makes me feel like no one else can make me feel. I have loved him for 26 years. This has to mean something. So yes, in a few months I will become Mrs. DeLeyer. I have dreamt about being Mrs. DeLeyer for years. I bet I have an old notebook from highschool in my mother’s house with Mrs. DeLeyer scribbled on it somewhere.
The only person I have told is my best friend, and now I am ready to share it with whoever is supportive. I know I will find many who will not be supportive and this is ok. Our love is not for everyone to understand. . . I get this. And at the end of the day, I must do what I know is right and after all I have been through, I feel as though I deserve to be happy. My story is not the end, it is just beginning. .
Thank you all for your support,
The Future Mrs. DeLeyer
Jeff wrote his own version of our story Click To Read Jeff’s Version Of Our Story, 26 Years
To be continued. . .