Was I Played for a Fool?

I made $150 today selling books at Powell's. So, I'm spending my last night on the road in a nice hotel - a $134 a night hotel. It has all kinds of amenities, including "free" dinner at check-in and a big morning breakfast, including a waffle bar. Might as well go out in style. Better than last night's Motel 6 with the ugliest bedspreads I've ever seen.

You know, I've lost pretty much everything: one job I loved, one job I tolerated, my apartment, most of my belongings and my sweet kitty, Chester. I also almost lost my life. But, through divine guidance, I was lead to the desert and to a "mold and environmental toxins specialist" in Taos, NM, who told me I had "toxic spore inhalation" and put me on some supplements to clear my lungs. I also had some acupuncture.

As I look on the positive side, I was lead to a mineral/hot spring resort in Utah (helped clear out some toxins) and then, to a wonderful quirky lady, named Nancy, in Angel Fire, NM who put me up for the night when I had no place else to go. She also treated me to a 2-hour horse ride up a muddy trail . Nancy owns a horse riding business. Hope to pay her back one day. I encountered such kindness on my trip, too. Like the lady who took pity on me in the Angel Fire laundromat and just gave me $10. Then there were the friends who unselfishly wired me money so I could keep going and the great friends who put me up for a week in their beautiful home. Thanks to all of you. I owe you a great debt.

What I don't understand is how somebody or some group of people would have taken such pleasure in playing with my heart. My very untested heart. A heart that has never fully given itself to anyone. As I got closer to my "love", the "friends" suddenly fell away. I was lead to believe that one or more of these Facebook "friends" was Gino, the man whose voice cleared my depression and opened me up to singing again. But, as I got closer and closer to my final destination, suddenly their "friendships" became less concrete and more vague. One of the main ones, "Mary", "unfriended" me a few days ago. Apparently, I was questioning things a little too much and taking their game way too seriously.

Everybody told me I was wrong and was being 'played'. I did not want to believe them. There were far too many coincidences. The blue boots I was drawn to were the same pair he owned, the song of mine, "Maple Leaf" that mysteriously appeared in the middle of one of Gino's songs, the fact that "he" knew the correct spelling of all of my mother's relatives last names (when I had no idea). I don't doubt the fact that we may be related - we have the same facial structure and large hands and forearms plus, the first time I saw him as an older adult, I thought he looked just like my grandmother. Also, the neighborhood in Montreal where he lived just happened to have the same name as the only place in Europe, other than Paris, that I've visited. There were other coincidences that I can't remember at the moment. But, perhaps lawyers are correct when they say "circumstantial evidence".

They say that when you go off of antidepressants, as I did, you can experience some bizarre side effects. Well, I've certainly had those. 20-years of pharmaceuticals shut me down, especially sexually. That part of me came alive again, without a doubt. It has also been said that black mold causes hallucinations and psychotic episodes. Since my old landlord refused to test my apartment for mold, I can only go by what the doctor said "toxic (mold) spore inhalation" - may have been black mold. So, my mind believed what it wanted to believe. Plus, I was being lead down the garden path by some very untrustworthy individuals.

There is no doubt, though, that Gino's music is powerful. This was the music that I lived for, in my 20's, and had forgotten about for well over 2 decades. This was the music that emboldened me, so I could brave the crowd in my black spandex pants and sing my heart out night after night. This was the music I played in cassette deck of my 1976 Toyota Corolla SR5 across miles of highways as I traveled from gig to gig.

The only thing that doesn't make any sense to me is how someone could have latched on to something that was so important to my past, in order to make a fool out of me now. Is it because I was on the radio? Did somebody have a vendetta for Avenging Annie? Did someone think it would be fun to toy with the heart of a lonely middle-aged woman? I can't imagine such cruelty. I could never, ever do that to someone else. It must be the generation, raised on shows like "Punk'd", where celebrities are humiliated by that asshole, Ashton Kucher. Perhaps that's the dick wad behind all of this.

Yet, somewhere in my heart, I still want to believe in fairy tales. I still want to believe that this is all true. I still want to believe that a person like me could have a happy ending. A part of me is truly in love with Gino. Maybe it should only be for his music, and maybe that is OK.