As some of you are away, I've had a bit of an exciting life. I moved around a good bit as a child, divorce, military parents, then my mother died, shipped to live with distant relatives, legally emancipated at 16, joined the Army at 17... Warchild hit the ground running. Lots of moving around when I was discharged (broken foot, didn't heal correctly, medical) in 1999.
I moved to San Diego in 2005, and in 2006 began a LTR with a transgender gal who I was with for a little over two years. She was going through the full transition, hormone therapy, full-time. We moved in together after about a year, and shortly after moving in I started to see all the telltale signs of being cheated on. Sneaking off with her cell phone, "girls nights" where she'd spend the night at a friend's, paranoia about her Myspace (then Facebook). She worked part-time at a Starbucks, then was hired at a local restaurant as a hostess, before getting hired at a very popular gay bar as a hostess. When she was hired at the popular restaurant, her whole personality changed, and I broke up with her when presented evidence of being cheated on.
She spent a couple months chasing me, trying to get me back, and I foolishly relented, took her back, let her stay in my home. But I never lost the feeling that there was more going on than I thought. I was working full-time, and going to school full-time, so away from home a lot, and worked a lot of overnights. We had a Thanksgiving dinner at her boss's home (the owner of a successful restaurant in the gay part of town), and someone told her it was good to see her happy with a good guy, and she had an incredibly guilty look on her face. I knew it was still going on. I ordered from Amazon a night vision spy cam, which took a few weeks to arrive. On January 5th, it came, I purchased a new set of locks for my apartment (just in case), and set it up in my bedroom before going to work. When I came home in the morning, the camera showed her getting home from the bar at 2:30, calling me to say she made it home safely, then immediately calling a guy who showed up five minutes later. She fucked him twice (bareback), then he paid her $100, and he left. It was obviously pretty routine, and I was sickened by what I was being exposed to.
I was surprisingly calm during the next 20 minutes, where I successfully put everything she owned in a large box, placed said box at the bottom of my apartment's stairs, changed the locks, called Sprint and turned off her phone, then woke her with the information that she was now homeless. She magically produced a second cell phone, called another guy, who showed up in a Jeep and picked her up, and she was gone.
A few days later some thuggish cholo types showed up, shouting through the door that I needed to give them her hormones, which came through the mail. Of course, I paid all the bills, including mail-ordering her hormones from Australia. I had already given them to another girl, and didn't bother answering the door, although I started sleeping with my handgun. I was getting harassing phone calls, people knocking on my door, and I got accosted by some random roided-out gayboy walking home from work that ended with me breaking my wrist beating him unconscious and sneaking across the border into Mexico for medical treatment. I had to switch jobs, as I was getting calls at work, and fake negative reviews were popping up online, although my boss could tell they were fake, and let me switch positions. I had to take out a restraining order, although it was useless.
San Diego was getting expensive, and I wanted to move anyways, so I made that famous move to Tijuana. I changed my phone number, deleted my social media (and created a new, super-private Facebook), and have avoided most other social media since. At my old job the staff were instructed to state I did not work there if anyone randomly walked in and asked for me, which happened a few times. After the breakup I found out that she actually had multiple aliases, and was working as an escort on Craigslist (YAY) and discreetly escorting/hooking with men she would meet at her bar. She would reject men who were regulars or from San Diego, but would fuck for cash if a guy was from out of town and just visiting. Someone sent me a screencap of an email exchange he had with her under a different name, and it took me all of five minutes to crack that email. The contents of her emails were pretty sickening. I spent a few days SHITTING BRICKS sweating out the results of an HIV test.
A few anonymous postings were made about me in San Diego's "Missed Connections" section on Craigslist. They started as fake postings pretending to have met me at work, then escalated into "Watch out for this creeper", then became worse. One day I googled the text and found she had posted it in all the cities she knew I had lived: Tampa, a couple of southern cities I won't name, a Wisconsin city, Vegas, Santa Monica, San Diego. She was going nuts. She had contacted the girl I dated before her looking for me.
Years have passed. I moved from Mexico back east, got married, switched careers, have a child. She never stopped. My old email account received the occasional email, the occasional "Someone tried to access your account" message. A fake review about how much I suck was posted at a place I used to work as recently as this February, although I moved away from there in 2012.
On Tuesday I got received multiple Facebook messages from old friends in San Diego, saying police and doctors in my hometown (rural deep South state) wanted to talk to me about her. What the fuck was she doing in my hometown? This bish had been hooking and hoing for years, always discreet, burning her bridges with the people that were closest to her, while maintaining the "good girl" image in San Diego, loved by all, but close to none in the end. She avoided the most popular trans dating website, tsdating.com, because she always pretended to be above that sort of thing, but kept an active profile on the defunct transgenderdate.com website, which was lesser-used, and would respond to (but never run her own) dating ads on Craigslist. She reeled in an older trucker who live THIRTEEN MILES from my childhood home (grandparents house), who moved her to live with her. When he was out on the road, she would resume her discrete escorting, and was apparently looking for me.
On October 28th, she developed a bit of a headache, and in the next couple days felt a little dizziness and blurry vision. She was taken to an urgent care, where they said she had a migraine and sent her home with an Rx for a mild pain killer. A few days later she woke up completely blind, and was slurring her speech badly. She was admitted to the local general hospital, and during the course of being administered a spinal cap, lapsed into a coma.
My barebacking tranny prostitute ex-girlfriend had Syphilitic Meningitis, and at that stage it is invariably fatal. It's a pretty rare STD, being bacterial in nature, with an incubation period of 6-10 years. Yeah... I threw her out six years ago. Needless to say, I've been forced to shit bricks again this week, sweating out emergency blood tests. Speaking with the nurse in the hospital, they were trying to get a family history, and social (sexual) history. LOL. The family she was staying with really didn't know anything about her background. I told the nurse that yes, I did know where her mother and sister were, although it didn't matter, as her family would just say, "Let her die" (and it didn't matter anymore at this point). As far as social history, if she came out of the coma, they would never get an honest answer out of her, and if I told them the truth, they wouldn't believe me. I asked the nurse if there was any real chance she would recover, the nurse said, "Barring an actual miracle, no." I said, just make her comfortable, and leave it alone.
The sister of her older guy/sugar daddy checked her luggage/shit back at his house, found a second cell phone, and another wallet with two other IDs. One had a second name that I knew she used in the past, one had her first name and my last name. I'm afraid to think what may have happened if she had made it to my grandmother's home, or to my younger cousins'. There's no telling how many men she may have exposed to what is considered an extremely rare STD, and I feel like I dodged a bullet (twice).
She died on Wednesday, in the same hospital that my grandfather passed last year. She almost found me.
Sooooo.... how was ya'alls week?
I moved to San Diego in 2005, and in 2006 began a LTR with a transgender gal who I was with for a little over two years. She was going through the full transition, hormone therapy, full-time. We moved in together after about a year, and shortly after moving in I started to see all the telltale signs of being cheated on. Sneaking off with her cell phone, "girls nights" where she'd spend the night at a friend's, paranoia about her Myspace (then Facebook). She worked part-time at a Starbucks, then was hired at a local restaurant as a hostess, before getting hired at a very popular gay bar as a hostess. When she was hired at the popular restaurant, her whole personality changed, and I broke up with her when presented evidence of being cheated on.
She spent a couple months chasing me, trying to get me back, and I foolishly relented, took her back, let her stay in my home. But I never lost the feeling that there was more going on than I thought. I was working full-time, and going to school full-time, so away from home a lot, and worked a lot of overnights. We had a Thanksgiving dinner at her boss's home (the owner of a successful restaurant in the gay part of town), and someone told her it was good to see her happy with a good guy, and she had an incredibly guilty look on her face. I knew it was still going on. I ordered from Amazon a night vision spy cam, which took a few weeks to arrive. On January 5th, it came, I purchased a new set of locks for my apartment (just in case), and set it up in my bedroom before going to work. When I came home in the morning, the camera showed her getting home from the bar at 2:30, calling me to say she made it home safely, then immediately calling a guy who showed up five minutes later. She fucked him twice (bareback), then he paid her $100, and he left. It was obviously pretty routine, and I was sickened by what I was being exposed to.
I was surprisingly calm during the next 20 minutes, where I successfully put everything she owned in a large box, placed said box at the bottom of my apartment's stairs, changed the locks, called Sprint and turned off her phone, then woke her with the information that she was now homeless. She magically produced a second cell phone, called another guy, who showed up in a Jeep and picked her up, and she was gone.
A few days later some thuggish cholo types showed up, shouting through the door that I needed to give them her hormones, which came through the mail. Of course, I paid all the bills, including mail-ordering her hormones from Australia. I had already given them to another girl, and didn't bother answering the door, although I started sleeping with my handgun. I was getting harassing phone calls, people knocking on my door, and I got accosted by some random roided-out gayboy walking home from work that ended with me breaking my wrist beating him unconscious and sneaking across the border into Mexico for medical treatment. I had to switch jobs, as I was getting calls at work, and fake negative reviews were popping up online, although my boss could tell they were fake, and let me switch positions. I had to take out a restraining order, although it was useless.
San Diego was getting expensive, and I wanted to move anyways, so I made that famous move to Tijuana. I changed my phone number, deleted my social media (and created a new, super-private Facebook), and have avoided most other social media since. At my old job the staff were instructed to state I did not work there if anyone randomly walked in and asked for me, which happened a few times. After the breakup I found out that she actually had multiple aliases, and was working as an escort on Craigslist (YAY) and discreetly escorting/hooking with men she would meet at her bar. She would reject men who were regulars or from San Diego, but would fuck for cash if a guy was from out of town and just visiting. Someone sent me a screencap of an email exchange he had with her under a different name, and it took me all of five minutes to crack that email. The contents of her emails were pretty sickening. I spent a few days SHITTING BRICKS sweating out the results of an HIV test.
A few anonymous postings were made about me in San Diego's "Missed Connections" section on Craigslist. They started as fake postings pretending to have met me at work, then escalated into "Watch out for this creeper", then became worse. One day I googled the text and found she had posted it in all the cities she knew I had lived: Tampa, a couple of southern cities I won't name, a Wisconsin city, Vegas, Santa Monica, San Diego. She was going nuts. She had contacted the girl I dated before her looking for me.
Years have passed. I moved from Mexico back east, got married, switched careers, have a child. She never stopped. My old email account received the occasional email, the occasional "Someone tried to access your account" message. A fake review about how much I suck was posted at a place I used to work as recently as this February, although I moved away from there in 2012.
On Tuesday I got received multiple Facebook messages from old friends in San Diego, saying police and doctors in my hometown (rural deep South state) wanted to talk to me about her. What the fuck was she doing in my hometown? This bish had been hooking and hoing for years, always discreet, burning her bridges with the people that were closest to her, while maintaining the "good girl" image in San Diego, loved by all, but close to none in the end. She avoided the most popular trans dating website, tsdating.com, because she always pretended to be above that sort of thing, but kept an active profile on the defunct transgenderdate.com website, which was lesser-used, and would respond to (but never run her own) dating ads on Craigslist. She reeled in an older trucker who live THIRTEEN MILES from my childhood home (grandparents house), who moved her to live with her. When he was out on the road, she would resume her discrete escorting, and was apparently looking for me.
On October 28th, she developed a bit of a headache, and in the next couple days felt a little dizziness and blurry vision. She was taken to an urgent care, where they said she had a migraine and sent her home with an Rx for a mild pain killer. A few days later she woke up completely blind, and was slurring her speech badly. She was admitted to the local general hospital, and during the course of being administered a spinal cap, lapsed into a coma.
My barebacking tranny prostitute ex-girlfriend had Syphilitic Meningitis, and at that stage it is invariably fatal. It's a pretty rare STD, being bacterial in nature, with an incubation period of 6-10 years. Yeah... I threw her out six years ago. Needless to say, I've been forced to shit bricks again this week, sweating out emergency blood tests. Speaking with the nurse in the hospital, they were trying to get a family history, and social (sexual) history. LOL. The family she was staying with really didn't know anything about her background. I told the nurse that yes, I did know where her mother and sister were, although it didn't matter, as her family would just say, "Let her die" (and it didn't matter anymore at this point). As far as social history, if she came out of the coma, they would never get an honest answer out of her, and if I told them the truth, they wouldn't believe me. I asked the nurse if there was any real chance she would recover, the nurse said, "Barring an actual miracle, no." I said, just make her comfortable, and leave it alone.
The sister of her older guy/sugar daddy checked her luggage/shit back at his house, found a second cell phone, and another wallet with two other IDs. One had a second name that I knew she used in the past, one had her first name and my last name. I'm afraid to think what may have happened if she had made it to my grandmother's home, or to my younger cousins'. There's no telling how many men she may have exposed to what is considered an extremely rare STD, and I feel like I dodged a bullet (twice).
She died on Wednesday, in the same hospital that my grandfather passed last year. She almost found me.
Sooooo.... how was ya'alls week?
