UNFORTUNATELY, LIFE GOES ON in Adventures From Prison

For me one of the hardest things about prison is watching the staff interact with each other. It is through them that I feel the real pain of prison. I can look all day long at these walls and at the inmates stuck here with me and feel not the slightest bit of loneliness or loss, but the second you see the picture of a new baby appear or the appearance of an engagement ring adorning an office or a staff member and it hits you. They are living and you are not.
Walking into my boss’s office I’ll over hear snippets of discussions of parties and dates, of vacations and weekend escapes and they invariably break my heart. I used to have those discussions with my co-workers. I used to be in a relationship. It’s all gone now and the worst part is it will stay gone for at least 8 ½ more years.
I don’t know if anyone other than a prisoner can understand how painful that realization can be. In the real world when a relationship ends you mourn for awhile, but eventually, when you are ready, you move on. You date again, you renew friendships and family ties, and you have a one night stand. You remember that you’re alive. Prisoners can’t do that. We can’t ask that pretty co-worker to dinner, we can’t flirt anonymously online, we can’t even have a personal conversation with a single staff member without worrying that we’re crossing lines that could land us in “the hole”. Any suggestion that you find a staff member attractive can get you a “stalker” label and get you shipped to another institution. So there is no moving on for us. Seeing the staff live their lives and get married, divorced, start families or get promoted is just like salt in my wounds. But as painful as it is to me, it gives me hope. Feeling that loss keeps me going forward, keeps me fighting.
I want so badly to be in love again, to have someone else in this world choose me over everyone and everything available to them; someone to share my life with. I watched my Mom go through the same emotions and desires after my father left her. As a kid I never really understood how strong they are or how easy the idea of never sating those desires can devastate. Boy do I get it now. I know that as a man, finding love again will be much easier. I hold the cards and if I start losing all I have to do is find another table. Women have it harder. (As much as women have found equality in the world, in relationships I still think they play the “chosen” role and likely always will. There are always exceptions, but I think generally that unless the man decides to pursue the relationship it’s doomed). I’m still worried that even though I am honest, kind, gentle, loving and intelligent, the fact I spent over a decade in prison will chase away the best opportunities. But if I find it, I’m convinced it will be special beyond words and I will fight for it to the last breath.
My whole life I’ve believed that the only light worth chasing is the one seen even through the darkest clouds; it’s why I write what I do, why I put my characters through such Hell. They may only rarely get to catch and keep hold of that light, but even to just see it for a moment can fulfill a life. I thought I had a good grip on mine, but my own weakness made it slip away. I can still see it and it still gives me warmth, but I had my chance with it and am seeking something of a different hue. It’s out there and if I’m lucky I’ll spot it before I die. But if I don’t, well as I said, I’m lucky to have caught hold of one for awhile.