Love Lost 4 Love Rekindled

Many things have transpired since where this story left off in Part 3. This will be the final installment. I apologize for the delay in producing it but I have been rather busy. Besides the fact that life goes on, I started thinking about
another submission that I wanted to write. These things distracted me enough that I didn’t quite get back to this to wrap it all up.

Is it possible that we, as people, can find such pleasure in things which are so obviously not good? I think we all know the answer to that is yes. The last week in Bangkok, before I left Nok for the second time, was one of those times for
me. It was far from the first but one of the rare occasions since having met Nok.

Since her confrontation with her uncle, and with us definitely getting back together, Nok’s spirits were high. I had one week to go before my departure and we decided to spend the week partying. We were out with friends every night
just having fun and, of course, letting people know that Nok would be leaving Thailand soon. Three days before my departure, I experienced one of the most incredible feelings. It was something that I, at times, had come to miss. You know that
feeling you have when you meet a good friend after a prolonged absence? This was so much better than that.

There we were, Nok, myself and Somchai, having a pleasant evening. We were at a bar owned by one of Somchai’s friends, just off Sutthisan Road. It’s a quiet place, not normally inhabited by farang. We’re sitting at the
bar, enjoying a nice conversation with the owner when Nok’s old boyfriend comes in. During the brief period where they reconnected, she had brought him here. Since she had been with him, and wasn’t sure where or when she had gotten
the herpes, we had already discussed the need for her to tell him if she ever saw him again. So, now was the time.

Everything happened so quickly, but I recall it in vivid detail. She called him over and she explained the situation to him. There I am, minding my own business, throwing back a Chang, when he says that he had herpes, and knew, before they
hooked up that time. He had gotten it some time after they broke up, back when she was studying. He didn’t think it was that big a deal and so didn’t feel it necessary to have told her. The thing I most remember was how it was said
so matter-of-factly and he was so smug about it. Before I even realized it, I had smashed my beer bottle across his face. Before it even registered with him, I stepped back off my bar stool and drove my elbow into his larynx. You would maybe guess
that the fight, if you could call it that, was over at this point. You would be wrong. As he fell to the floor, I moved over him and gave him a nice, solid kick in his ribs. You could hear the break. God, I love my steel-toed Wolverines. I wasted
a few precious moments talking to him, letting him know what I was stomping his ass for. It was that delay that saved him any further pain. My next move would have been to kick his teeth in but Somchai and Nok had both grabbed hold and started
hustling me to the door.

Reliving that moment, as I do, I still get incredible satisfaction from it. Yet I know it is wrong. For the next three days I worried. I half expected to get arrested as I tried to board my departing flight. In all seriousness, I had actually
even considered making an overland run down to KL and hopping a flight there. He didn’t know me and the bar owner told the police that he had no idea who the other farang was. Still, that was a tense morning as I went to the airport.

Do I regret it? No. Would I do it again? Yes. Nurture won out over nature in my development. My dad was the meanest SOB that I ever knew. He used to beat the hell out of me. I always thought it was for fun. It wasn’t until I was around
16 that I really started fighting back. That only made the beatings worse. Nowadays, you can’t even talk harshly to your kid without someone calling the police but I got the hell beat out of me my whole life and no one lifted a finger to
help. I got my attitude towards women from him too. His way of making up to me was to share one of his bimbos; for her to “take care of me” after one of his beatings. Things came to a head on my nineteenth birthday. I brought a girl
over. My dad took a fancy to her and grabbed her by the arm and started heading upstairs. The fact is I didn’t care much about this girl other than as a piece of ass but she was still my piece of ass and I had no intention of sharing her
with him. That fight was the worst ever. She ended up calling 911 by the time it was over. We both had to go get medical attention but I was the only one walking on my own. You want to know the funniest, or maybe the saddest, thing about the whole
affair? That day, while we were at the hospital, was the first time that my dad ever told me he loved me and that he was proud of me. That was also the day I finally had enough nerve to tell him that I hated him. I haven’t seen, or spoken
to, him since. It took me a while but I finally located my mother. She felt so bad about having deserted me and leaving me with that man but I forgave her and told her I understood. The memories came back over time. How she tried to protect me
and how he beat her so savagely for it. How no one would help. I know she had to save herself and I don’t blame her for it. We have a good relationship now. I think my mom will like Nok.

Only time can really tell if we’ll make it but I know we will. I feel at peace when I’m with Nok. Most of the rage subsides in her presence. She feels safe in my arms. After her blow-up with her uncle, part of the wall that
she had erected around herself came down. The remaining bit crumbled after that night in the bar. She knows that I’ll never let anyone hurt her again. We were two broken people who, through each other, have hopefully found what we need
in order to heal ourselves. I can’t imagine anyone that I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. I sense that she feels the same.

Now, many changes have also happened here that she knows nothing about yet. I thought she would be uncomfortable living in such close proximity to Dave after what happened. When I asked her if she would rather move, she said, in true Thai
fashion, up to you. Naturally I didn’t let her get away with that. Yes, she would prefer to move. She said she’d never forget how she betrayed me, someone who loved her so unconditionally, but that she really would prefer not to
have a reminder of it thrown in her face every day. Of course, if I stayed, I knew Chrissy would insist on moving. I didn’t think that would be fair to her and the kids so the house was sold. If you’ve ever lived in California, or
know someone who has, you know the housing market is just completely stupid. It’s not a place I would ever want to move to. Moving away, however, especially when you have so much equity in your house, is incredible. I sold my home in no
time because the area is very desirable, whatever that means. The new house is in Oregon. It’s a lovely place in the country with some land and room for a horse, which I plan on surprising Nok with. I was only able to do this because I
have been lucky to find a few good friends during the course of my life. It was through them that I was able to quickly find a new job, allowing me to leave behind the one I always hated and which I knew could potentially cause problems for us
when Nok ever gets to feeling down again. You’ll notice I said when, not if. I’m not so stupid as to think we aren’t going to run into a few speed bumps on our shared road to recovery but I don’t see any point in leaving
ones in place that I have the ability to remove beforehand.

Until she’s had a chance to consult with all the numerologists and fortune tellers that Thais are so fond of, we can’t set the actual date. At this point, all I know for certain is that it will be in mid to late September. Somchai
will be my best man and Ii will be the maid of honor. Nok has been rebuilding her relationship with her mother, too, and that’s who we plan to have give her away. Only, this time, it will be to a much happier ending. If you should find
yourself in the general area around Eugene and Corvallis Oregon during that time, and if you can figure out which wedding is ours, you are more than welcome to drop by. I will leave instructions at the door that anyone claiming to be a friend
of Val’s is to be admitted. Hope to see some of you there.

The last thing I want to touch on is a recent submission that really touched me. I am referring to My Thailand by Trent Dumois. That story got inside my head and I couldn’t get it out. I’m
not even sure how many times I re-read it. The love that he expresses for Daeng, and the way the tale ended, ripped my heart out. This is how I feel toward Nok. Maybe I’ll come back a few years from now and give you an update. I know our
relationship is going to work so I only hope that it does not come to a tragic end, as in Trent’s case. Trent, if you’re reading this, I want you to know that I get the symbolism. I can understand why you took Daeng away from us
so abruptly. You were, in effect, letting us better understand the profound sense of loss that you felt in the way that she was taken from you. The thing is, though, I don’t like being hit between the eyes with a 2×4. You owe me, man. You
owe us all. So I hope that I will see more Daeng stories from you in the future.

Stickman's thoughts:

That bar scene sounds hellish and it is that that I will remember most of all about this submission. It is hard to comment on it really. I'm not one for violence, but then I can see where you were coming from.