Seriously. The highlight of my weekend was the 4 short hours I spent with Eric. You heard me. I flew over 700 miles, and drove 3 hours from Mesa to Safford, only to see him for 4 hours. Once again I broke the G.D. rules and was kicked out early. You'd think I was the criminal. Maybe I am????
I'm just glad it's over. I nearly missed my flight this morning. Let's start with that, and I'll work backwards. UGH. This morning, I woke up early and headed to the airport before 6 am. We were held up in traffic because of a car wreck, so instead of it taking about an hour, it took an hour and a half. When I was dropped off, it was 7:20, and my flight was at 8:05. Allegiant Air has it's own airport in Mesa, it's about half the size of our tiny little airport in Missoula, so it's usually no big deal. WELL. Today was different. Apparently there were 5 outgoing flights within 2 hours, so there was a line of like 500 people. SHIT. I thought I was late last time, when I tried to outsmart the GPS and went the wrong way. Nope, this was worse. I think I'm doomed to miss a flight. I stayed in line for a few minutes and started talking to the people behind me, they were going to Bozeman and told me to cut in line. I was too shy to cut, so the lady I had just met went up to a group of guys and asked if I could jump ahead of them. Strangers are so nice sometimes. I'm such a scaredy cat. They said it was fine and when I told them where I was going, they pointed to the "express line", which I had not seen. Thank GOD! So, I get in that line and they announce that they are closing our flight in 5 minutes. Just in the knick of time, right? Until I went through security. I guess my suitcase full of mexican jewelry was a "red flag", (thank you dad) so they had to search BOTH OF MY BAGS. OH. MY. GOD. I don't have time for this. The flight leaves in less then 15 minutes. As I'm patiently waiting for the security guard to go through my shit, they repeatedly announce my name over the intercom, "Kristal Cowart, you have 3 minutes to get to gate 5". FUCK FUCK FUCK. I'm sorry, but Arizona just hasn't treated me very well this weekend, I'm ready to leave. I don't want to be stuck here..... After an ETERNITY, the guard finally gives me my bags. I'm borderline crying, but trying to keep myself together, since I know how to do that so well. As I ran to the gate, I passed the coffee stand :( Booooooooooo!!!! No time. I'll get it on the plane. When I handed the flight attendant my ticket, he told me that I had 10 more seconds before he was going to close everything down. SHIT SON! What the hell is going on this weekend? I don't have a clue. All I know is it ended about the same way it started, so I'm glad it's over. And they didn't serve coffee on the flight.
Let's rewind to Friday.
So Friday morning, I hop on the plane, leaving the blizzardy Montana weather for sunny Arizona. Things are looking bright. I land without anything crazy happening, my parents pick me up, and we head to Safford. We're all in a good mood, catching up on what's been going on back home for the past few weeks while my parents have been gone. The drive through the "mountains" (if you can call it that) is actually a very pretty drive and we make it to our destination before dark. My dad wasn't feeling well, so my mom and I dropped him off at the hotel and headed to dinner. We went to a local Mexican restaurant that Eric's mom has suggested we try, and the service was so good that we were in and out in less then 20 minutes. I swear. It was kind of funny, since we were trying to waste time. After dinner and a quick stop at Walgreens, we decided to take a drive out to the prison to see what it looks like in the dark. I wanted to know what kind of mileage I was going to be running the next day. You heard me. My completely rational plan, since I was carless, was to pack my running backpack with my running gear and run from the prison to my hotel. I had called the prison earlier in the week to find out if there were lockers that I could use. I remembered there being lockers in the restroom outside of security. They assured me that I could use them for all the items not allowed in to visitation, which is basically anything other then quarters and my ID. My mom and I discovered that I would be running about 8 1/2 miles. That's EASY, except for the fact that I cannot breath through my nose. I had a head cold that I had been trying to fight for a few days, but of course, when I come to visit Eric, I'm sick. I don't think I've been down there to see him where I haven't been sick or super sleep deprived. It's no good, but it's better then not going down there, so I'll take what I can get.
The next morning, we woke up bright and early, around 6, and were headed to the prison by 7. The plan was for my parents to drop me off before they continued onwards to Mexico. I would only have to find my way to the hotel that afternoon (running) and back to the prison the next day. I called the Taxi company the day before and left a message on their answering machine. It wasn't looking hopeful, so I was going to try to make a friend that would be willing to pick me up the next morning. Thank God I know how to make friends easily, which isn't always a good thing, I tend to be a bad judge of character and usually give people the benefit of the doubt until someone screws me over somehow (I trait I inherited from my father). I had my parents wait a minute while I ran inside and secured my stuff in one of the lockers. This is when I ran into my first problem. I suppose I should have caught this as a sign, but I just thought of it as a minor, but annoying, speed bump. They didn't know where the keys were. Awesome. I called ahead of time to make sure that this didn't happen. What is wrong with these imbeciles? I was slightly annoyed, but took a deep breath, I can figure this out. I walked out to where the other visitors where sitting and asked nicely if someone would be willing to let me put my backpack in their trunk. A girl about my age, with a foreign accent, who I later learned was named Jovana, jumped right up and said it was okay if I put it in her car. Thank God. I waved goodbye to my parents and sat down to wait until 8 am, when they allow us in. Only one more hour and I get to see Eric. The long almost three month wait was finally over. I was excited.
Finally. It was time. We went through the same old security. I beeped, but the really mean security guard is gone, so it doesn't matter, it's my bra, no biggie. We were taken into the visitation room, shown where we should sit and I headed straight to the vending machine to hoard the orange juice, something they aren't given in prison. No OJ? Nope. Eric eventually came out, and we set into our usual, now familiar routine. It always takes about an hour to get use to actually being around one another. I find myself becoming shy around a man that I talk to every day on the phone and through e-mails, but in person, it kind of feels like a first date. He told me that I intimidate him, and I"m still trying to figure out how. I'm 5'4", with fake blond hair, half his size. I'm scary. lol. We ate some delicious vending machine food and played scrabble, where I mercilessly kicked his ass. He helps me, so I guess he is the winner, but I'll claim it. At around noon, we took some pictures. It's something that I can hardly handle, since I don't have control of the camera, but Eric looks forward to them, so I do it for him. They'll be developed and given to him in a few weeks and I know that will make his day, so it's worth it. We sat back down, and ate some more food (see why I don't mind running the nearly 9 miles??) and about the time we were finishing up, a short gray haired man called Eric up to the desk. It was the same man who was absolutely no help early with the locker keys. I guess he is some sort of authority. I've never seen him prior to this day, or at least, never took notice.
Eric looked at me, and I asked him what they wanted, he had no idea. We had purposefully been on our best behavior because my dad was coming to visit the next day, we didn't want the guards to have any reason to cancel our visit. As I sat in my chair I began to feel uncomfortable. I could tell that they were arguing about something. I eventually stood up, to see if I could interject and the little female guard, who always picks on Eric, told me to sit down. I did what she said. I have no idea if she really has that much authority over me, but I've heard rumors of people being permanently kicked out of visitation and I don't want to risk that. Eric eventually came back and sat next to me. He told me that they had evidence that he had touched my ass. WHAT THE HELL? First of all. Who the F cares? Secondly, evidence? I guess when we went up to get our pictures taken, they caught his hand touching me "inappropriately" on video. The sad truth to this, I started it. He was just (without thinking) returning the favor. It's always been a rumor that the photo area is kind of a "safe area" to get away with things, but we weren't thinking about that. I've already been kicked out once. Neither of us wanted that to happen again, especially because my dad was coming the following day. All we care about is seeing each other. Hell yes a conjugal visit would be nice, but we both know this isn't the place. (sorry you had to hear that mom and dad :)
I had to leave. We should have had two more hours that day, but I had to leave. Are you kidding me? Okay. So what the hell was I supposed to do? My bag was in a complete strangers car. As I was escorted out, the little gray haired dude asked me if I had a ride. No. You know why? Because Saffords taxi service SUCKS. OR it's non existent. I had to explain to them that my stuff was in Jovana's car and I needed that before I could leave. This is about the time where I completely lost it. I don't think I've ever been this emotionally broken down in public EVER. I stood in the front lobby, outside security and sobbed while they went back in to get Jovana. Now I was screwing up someone else's visit. Great. Surprisingly she didn't even seem to care. This girl was very happy-go-lucky and I'm glad I found her. She let me get my bag and she said she would give me a ride if I needed one the next day. At least there's tomorrow, right? I was crossing my fingers. We exchanged numbers as we walked back to the building, with the lieutenant following behind us. As we got to the door the lieutenant told me that I couldn't go in with my cellphone. What? Why? Who the hell cares. I just needed to go into the bathroom so I could change. For God's sakes, give me a friggin break here. I know none of you have souls, but I'm just an innocent girl who's fallen for a guy on the other side of the wall. Does that make me less of a person? Come on. I finally had to resort to hiding my cell phone behind the garbage can outside. It was ridiculous. At least if my iphone was taken I could find it via gps. lol. I was probably overreacting at the time, but Jesus.
As I went back inside, the one nice guard that I've encountered reminded me that I needed to give her the license number off of my parents car. I suppose I could have just made something up, but I like this woman, and I've seen her a few times, she's been nothing but nice, and treats me like an equal and not like a criminal, so I don't mind doing what she asks. She walked outside with me so I could get my phone to call my parents and that's when I broke down. Sobbing. This is the point where I start to question myself. Is this worth it? Is this man really worth all of this torment, this heartache? I feel like nothing we do will ever be "right" in their eyes (the guards who seem to HATE us). I told Eric before we parted, that it was inevitable, they were going to find SOMETHING wrong. No matter what. The nice guard patiently waited while I lost it and told me she wished she could do something about it, but it was out of her control (I knew that). She started to tell me about the Mexican man that was sitting on the bench right outside of security and how his family had traveled from Mexico to see one of the inmates, another family member, that they hadn't seen in years, and he hadn't filled out the visitation form that you need to send in weeks before you come to visit, so he wasn't allowed in. I'm not sure if she was trying to make me feel better, but it was comforting to know that SOMEONE had a little compassion. Thank you, Miss Security guard who's name I do not know.
I eventually got myself changed into my running clothes. I bid the security guard farewell and told her I had some much needed anger that I needed to run off, and I headed down the road. Once again, running came to the rescue. How many times do I need to repeat myself. I think running is saving my sanity. As I ran down the highway (yes, highway, but it was a two lane and only about half of it didn't have sidewalks), I began to release all the days frustrations. They can kick me down. Over and over. I'm sorry, but I'm not ready to admit defeat, and as long as Eric is where he is, I'm going to stay strong. Somehow, the worse the situation, the stronger I become. By the time Eric called, I was five miles into my run, and my head was once again on straight.
"Tell me some good news." I begged him, as I slowed down to a walk.
Unfortunately there was none. Not only had our visit ended early that day, but I would not be allowed to return on Sunday, nor would my father be allowed to go visit. The weekend was ruined. I was internally devastated, but that's the last thing he needed to hear. I could tell that he was worried that perhaps what had happened would ruin our relationship. He was so wrong. There is nothing those guards can do to me to make me love him any less. No one will ever know what the entirety of how he's changed my life, with just words. No one will know except the two of us, which is fine, it's nobody else's business. For him to even consider that I would think about not returning to see him. He is so wrong. We do this for each other, pick each other up when one of us is down. He's done it time and time again for me, when I've been at my very worst, it was my time to return the favor.
What I'm worried about is this affecting his mother's visit, next month. She hasn't seen her son in over a year and wasn't even sure she'd be able to make a trip down there until recently, and now that might be completely ruined, because of me. It's really no one's fault, unfortunately it's human nature to want to touch someone you love, especially when you're not allowed. Eric had to make a statement when he was getting the equivelant to being "written up" (prison term "given a shot") and he admitted to what he was accused of and said he was sorry, but he missed me and he didn't even realize he was doing it, which was true. I can't tell you how many time's I've had the natural desire to lean in and give him a kiss, only to realize that I can't. The things you take for granted! I never thought I'd ever be in a position like this, where there were certain things that you cannot do. We both feel robbed of something, a little bit of time together, to make the distance not seem so far, but I know we will get through this, and hopefully I'll be back there in a couple months.
It's pretty amazing what little things I look forward too these days. There are certain things that I want and cannot have. I can't be with the one I want WHEN I want, I have to settle on these short visits. I look forward to holding his hand and looking him in the eye when we talk. I look forward to being around him for a short period of time. There is just something about this man that makes me believe that he is worth the wait....
