Closure: Maria. Out of my life.

2005-04-10 - 3:46 a.m.

Yep! I'm still up! Going on 4 a.m. and I have no reason to go to bed as of yet. I'm getting sleepy, but I refuse to take a Tylenol PM. I only have a short day at work tomorrow. In fact, I'll be leaving while the sun is still up. Gotta love it!

I've talked Nelson into letting me pick him up after I get out of work to take a drive to Amsterdam, NY to pick out a movie or two. We bought a new DVD player this week, since the last one was blipping and skipping.

For thirty-nine dollars at Wal*Mart.

Gotta love it. The picture is crystal clear, and the blipping and skipping is non-existent. I love it!

We'll probably put the old DVD player in the bedroom, since it's a DVD/VCR combo. Of course, we'll need a second television. :-)

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We are also in need of a new set of dishes. We've decided on Big Lots for those. We bought some stoneware there two years ago -- good stuff -- and quite durable and pretty. Each piece was one dollar, and was microwave/dishwasher safe.

Of course, we sent food to a 'sick' Maria, and never got our plates back, and since we have a new apartment as of next month, we've decided to get rid of a lot of our junk and replace it with newer, less 'second hand'-looking stuff.

This will be my first, first-floor apartment. Ever. We'll then have a front AND a back door (which opens out to where we park the car), a small porch, storage out back, and new locks on both doors. Oh, and did I mention a picture window? :-)

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Had an interesting chat with two people, about ex-friend, wanted felon, thief extraordinaire Maria.

First chat was with [name withheld] who told me that she [Maria] had money to give her around the time that we were robbed. You know? The time when Maria said she had NO MONEY???

Second chat involved two tenants that aren't staying after the rent increase. I asked them if we were staying, and if they had heard anything from Maria.

"No we haven't. The last thing she ever said to us was that you two were supposedly robbed, but she told us that the whole thing was staged, and you stole the money from Nelson."

Wh-Wh-WHAT???

Silly Bitch. Tricks are for kids!

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Here is my 'closure entry', as promised, in it's entirety:

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I first met Maria Gonzales a few weeks before Christmas, 2003. I was on my way to work, when I saw her coming back from our next-door neighbor's house.

"Hello, I'm Jamie", I said. "I live upstairs from you."

"I'm Maria. Nice to meet you."

And the friendship started from there.

I asked her if she'd like to join me upstairs sometime, and that I had just purchased an assload of materials to make Yule wreaths. I was making them for gifts for family and friends, and thought it would be fun for her to join me. She agreed, and from that night on, she'd be invited into our home at least three times a week for dinner and/or movies.

Our friendship was great. Whenever either of us were bored, it would be remedied through a phone call, or over a cup of coffee. It was nice. I had finally made a new friend. But not just any friend. Someone I could confide in, someone who listened, and someone with whom I could rely on and who could rely on me -- no matter what the situation. It was a spectacular feeling, living so close to someone I'd have so much in common with. We were both, at one time or another in our lives -- addicts. Her, alcohol and illegal drugs; and I, alcohol and prescription medication.

As our friendship grew, we spent more and more time together. We did cookouts in the summer, shopped together, and eventually trusted each other to go into the other's apartments whenever something needed to be done. We would go into her apartment to water her plants when she was away, and she would take our dog outside to void when we were working late or in Pennsylvania to see my family. We would also be there for each other financially. If Maria needed twenty dollars, we'd lend it to her. If we needed fifty? Not an issue. It was always paid back in a timely manner on both of our parts.

It never occurred to me that this would backfire.

I trust people. When we were robbed the first time in March of 2004, we had just received almost $2000.00 back from our income taxes. A good chunk of it was put away (in our home) because our bank was notorious for allowing debit card purchases to not go through for weeks at a time. Balancing a checkbook was pointless, because even payroll checks would be put on hold, and minor $15.00 purchases turned into $50.00 purchases after the bank charged ungodly fees that should have never been charged. Our home was a safe place -- right? IT'S BROADALBIN, NEW YORK FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GOOD! People leave their cars and front doors unlocked! Nonetheless, most of the income tax return was spent on frivolous things. Upgrades for Nelson's computer (which we shared at the time), DVDs and new music, a few new items of clothing that weren't really needed...

Well, as you suspected -- we were robbed of almost $800.00. After our notorious, heroine-addicted neighbors had moved, we felt safe again and started forgetting about the grief that loss had caused us.

And I'll try to condense the story of what happened this year. I know that I've drilled that one into the ground. But, it did happen again. The date was November 23rd, 2004. (That's a link to my old diary, and the entry on the day it happened)

Anyway, the day we were robbed, Nelson's mother helped us out -- unbeknownst to her. We couldn't ask, because she lives in London, but when she found out, she understood. We paid her back as soon as we could, and all was well in the world.

So now, I'll give you once again, and for the last time -- the scenario that occurred the evening we were robbed.

I had to do laundry at the laundromat. Nelson was sleeping in the bedroom, with the door shut, and the fan on (as always.) Maria was 'sick'. Home from work on one of seemingly a million sick days, from the job that I got her. She took over in caring for the client that I used to care for in his home.

I had talked to Maria just seconds before I left. (Please remember we were robbed on this night)

"Nelson is asleep in the bedroom with Mumford", (our dog that we used to have) "I'm running to the laundromat but I'm leaving the door unlocked because I'll have a ton of laundry to carry up the stairs, and I don't want to have to fiddle with the locks. Could you keep an eye on the place for us?" There had been some concerns with an ex-tenant coming in and out of the building after she had moved.

I arrived home. There was something different about the apartment. Something subtle. Do you know what that was?

It smelled like Maria's body spray. She was 'sick' that night, but when I saw her an hour earlier, she was dressed to kill and was wearing the very same body spray she wears all the time. Now, if I had a supposed 'lung infection', I'd refrain from anything that heavy. Maybe it's just me. This is the first time I'm mentioning the body spray, for reasons I care not discuss. I'll say this, though. I didn't want to believe a friend would just walk into our apartment for no reason. Maybe something inside me warned me not to look in the wallet at that moment. Maybe I wanted to block the possibility out of my mind. Maybe I was just stupid. And maybe I was just not all that clear-headed after the mega-doses of Valium and Ativan and Benzodiazepine sleeping pills the hospital gave me.

Anyway...

Nelson went to work and came home. He grabbed his wallet and stuck it in his front pocket as always. He had no reason to look to see if his money was there. He came home the next morning, and I asked him for his wallet. When I went to take the money out to get some groceries, there was nothing. Not even one dollar.

Nelson swears up and down that he stopped nowhere for anything (he rarely does), and that his wallet never left his person.

The money was taken that night before he went to work, and while I was at the laundromat -- right out of his wallet.

Nelson and I are different in many ways. I'm anal retentive about our cash. I handle the bills, the shopping, and I buy the toilet paper to wipe our asses. He buys almost nothing. Sometimes on payday, he'll grab a CD or a DVD, and sometimes a household item that strikes his fancy. He knew that week was the week we were going to shop for groceries and for the holidays, and he didn't buy a thing.

I second-guessed myself for the longest time. I was fresh out of detox, and wasn't very clear headed. I thought to myself, "Well, perhaps I hid the money somewhere and forgot about it." As my mind became more clear over time, I remembered exactly how the evening went, and how Maria knew where I was, how Nelson was sleeping, and how the last time we were robbed, all fingers pointed to her as well. (When I mentioned the heroine-addicted neighbors, it was Maria who convinced us that it was they who robbed us.)

But I was blinded by friendship.

I'm sorry if this story seemed long-winded. I'm ending the story here once and for all. And this will be my closure on the whole incident.

Dear Maria,

I loved you like a sister. And you robbed us. Then you tried to pin the blame on someone else -- not once, but twice.

You seem to lie to everyone, and you hurt those that care about you most. Do you have any remorse whatsoever?

I hope you go to jail for a long, long time, Maria. I want you to sit there with the fond memories of the times we shared, and then I want you to remember the tears that fell from my eyes the night I took you shopping with me -- pretending that you had to scrape up change to buy cigarettes. I want you to remember all of that, and picture a child who grew up with nothing, who lived in poverty, and who values every last penny that he earns. That describes both Nelson and I.

Now picture that child with nothing. I felt like that child when you did that to us, Maria. Afraid, vulnerable, and broke -- with no money for the holidays, and no money for food. You didn't only take the money, you took away our dignity.

If by some chance you are reading this, Maria -- I want you to know, to me -- you are nothing. Not anymore. I wish I had listened to those who REALLY care about me. The ones who warned me about you in the first place.

I hope this letter of closure makes you feel as low as you possibly could, because in my eyes -- you are the lowest.

Never again.

Jamie

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I won't be mentioning this incident again. It's over, and I thank you for letting me take this time to get this all out. And thank you, DiaryLand, for providing me with the outlet.