OUT OF THE MIST

        By:  Angel

Chapter one ...  Heartbreak

                    Standing on the porch or our log cabin on
                    the lake with my wolfdog ShyAnne, I feel so
                    cold.  I feel dead inside but I know my heart
                    is still beating because with each beat I feel
                    it breaking into a thousand pieces.  The pain
                    is overwelming but I can't cry.  All I can do
                    is watch as Joe walks toward his truck, gets
                    in, and starts to drive away without so much
                    as a glance back.

                    As Joe's truck disappears from sight, I
                    glance over the toward the shore where
                    there, in misty form, stands my grandmother
                    who has been dead these so many years.
                    She is smiling that gentle smile of comfort
                    that she always does when my life is
                    suddenly turned upside
                    down.

                    I turn to go back inside when it dawns on me
                    that this is my reoccuring dream.  The one I
                    had two years prior to coming here to be
                    with Joe. The dream was one of peace and
                    love, not heartache and pain though.  At
                    that time, I took it as a sign from the above
                    that all would be as it should in my new life.
                    That it was alright to leave the old life of
                    security and comfort far behind and embark
                    on this adventure with Joe.  That somehow
                    he would change and be the man I knew he
                    was deep
                    down inside.

                    Going inside our log cabin that Joe built, I
                    look around and see all the familiar things.
                    There is the coffee cup he left on the table,
                    the crumpled bed where we had lain
                    together last night, the quilt I had made, still
                    on the floor beside the fireplace where we
                    had made love
                    that one last time before he told me the
                    awful truth.  All seemed as it should be in
                    the early morning hours except that instead
                    of Joe driving off to work, he was driving off
                    to a new life.  One that I would never be a
                    part of.

                    Why had I not seen the signs.  They were
                    there.  The late nights at work, the I have a
                    busy Saturday ahead of me and then I might
                    as well hang out with the guys that I haven't
                    seen since we moved to the boonies.
                    Did I just not want to acknowledge the signs
                    or was I blinded by love?  I think it was a
                    combination of being totally in love and
                    trusting Joe to be as faithful as I was to
                    him.  I was so wrapped up in making this
                    man happy and giving him a loving home
                    that I couldn't see what was happening
                    outside of this little world we had built.  Now
                    this perfect world filled with love and peace
                    was shattered.  Who shattered it? Her name
                    was Debbie.  Debbie with the pretty long
                    blonde hair and perfect figure.  Debbie the
                    exotic dancer who I never could compete
                    with in a million years.  I was the dependable
                    nerd type who was happiest being at home,
                    doing hobbies, caring for my man and
                    communing
                    with nature.  I couldn't compete in the looks
                    department either with my less than perfect
                    figure and my long black hair.  Of course I
                    could be a blonde like Debbie as all it would
                    take is a little bleach like she used.  No use
                    being catty, what was done was done and
                    Joe
                    chose her over me.

                    Sitting down on the bed that was still warm
                    from Joe's body and smelled of Joe, I am
                    finally able to cry.  As I hug the pillow and
                    sob into it pretending that I am once more
                    laying in the comforting and strong arms of
                    Joe, ShyAnne jumps on the bed and lays her
                    furry body next to mine.  ShyAnne offers me
                    comfort on a primevil
                    level.  I am her pup for now and she gives
                    me all the comfort she can provide.  I love
                    her for it and know that she loves me with
                    an unconditional love and that she will never
                    leave me as Joe has.


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