Yours for Eternity: A Love Story on Death Row (21 page)

*

Damien, I have just come from the Egyptian Museum and it truly has done something to me. All of those incredibly beautiful and magickal creatures. I have no doubt my love that you are of them. And after I saw Queen Tiye, who is the most beautiful woman and the face of Aka nation (sp?), I am so stricken. This is of you, purely of you, and even though it was like pulling teeth, thank you for allowing me to come here. For it is because of you. I know you feel so disappointed with this place now—there are things for me to learn and I would give anything to have you here with me, so I
could learn. With you—I can do anything. As I walked through that place I never felt so sad, so loved, so happy, so beautiful—because I have you, because you are not far away from me and because I am coming home to you and more than everything—that I am going to marry you. And you are brilliant and beautiful and strong and mine.

*

It’s 7:42, almost time to speak to you. Tonight I will make love to you. I have been thinking of you constantly, my love. Damien, life is not going to remain “easy” for us until we are together. We want each other too much—even this, me seeing these things without you, it’s just not right.

Tonight, I was talking to an Egyptian woman. She asked if Stuart and I were friends or what. I said yes, for a long time. She asked if I was married or in love. I said I was very much in love and then she said, “He is not jealous?” I said, “Yes, very much so, but not of Stuart (exactly)—other things.” She said, “Would you not be jealous if he went with a woman on a trip?” Oh Damien, it made me think, of course! I said, “I could never stand it, I would be out of my mind with jealousy.” Why have I been so stupid? My place is with you, never, ever with anyone else. I just know when we are living together, we will never be parted. Never, ever. It kills me to think how foolish I have been, I will make it up to you. I will, in so many ways. I am only devoted to you.

*

Just now, at 8:00, I put my hands on the rail in the bathroom, spread my legs standing up, on my toes, and felt you fucking me. It was the loveliest thing of the day. I hope you were doing the same.

*

Damien, I have so much to learn, I am only beginning. Words have been going through my head, like “beloved” and “loving desperately.” I like to think of you as my beloved, for you are. And as far as being “desperately in love” I feel that at times, too. I think it stems from not being able to touch you.

*

It’s Wednesday night. As each day goes by, I feel the weight on my heart grow lighter, as I get closer to you. At times I feel . . . what an incredible experience, but it isn’t without you. No one could ever understand but you that nothing means anything and I can’t feel anything without you. I can only hope you will want to hear about things I have done, or read these pages.

One thing that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about is that I have been given a gift, Damien; the main purpose, the only purpose of my life is that I will be able to free you and love you, to live with you and have a child with you who will spread magick throughout her life. We just have to trust and hold on to that trust and love through the “tough times” and I mean the times we want each other so much that we could literally claw each other to death—I want, I need to be more careful, to be more careful of your heart, because it tears me apart to see the effects things have on you. You are so very precious to me and I have made some seemingly bad decisions, but I always come around to where I need to be.

Please know you are my life. Without you, I cease to live. I know this missive will be all over the place, jumping from thought to thought, from emotion to emotion, from place to place, from day to day. But I write anytime I get a spare second.

*

Today, a Muslim woman pulled me aside to tell me the importance of marriage. She told me that an Egyptian man marries only once, forever. Well, I told her that is the only true marriage—forever, nothing else is marriage, but how many wives does an Egyptian man have? Which, of course, was not the thing to say, but I will not be lectured when she has no idea what love is. No one can talk to me about it.

*

Thursday morning. I didn’t sleep at all last night—the nights are very hard for me—things come after me, will not leave me in peace—I tried to seek some peace reading
Sandman
—but it scared me even more. I am like a little girl, afraid of the dark, when morning comes I am all right. It is not good for me. It comes from being so far away from you. Last night my heart was beating so strongly. Several times I just sat up in bed, looked around me, wondered where I was. I was almost delirious. Yes, during the days I am stronger—and I am getting closer. I hope you are faring well, my love. I think of you constantly. I hope you are eating and sleeping and I hope you have peace of mind and are waiting for my return—as I am counting the minutes. If I find out when I get home that you have put another of your spells on me to make me miserable and not be able to sleep, I am going to wring your little neck. If I find out you’ve done this to me again, which after last night’s bout with the ghosts and how my heart was pounding—you will pay dearly, my little man. Don’t you think for a moment I am not capable of the same, however, it will be something else entirely. And if I arrive home and don’t find amongst my many missives from you a Valentine’s message, more wrath will come your way. I mean it.
I don’t care, you have already spoilt me with last year’s beautiful card.

*

You thought life with me was going to be easy. Well. It’s not. But I promise it will be sublime.

*

Friday night. I was so sick today. My sweet, I will never, ever ever call you a baby again. I had forgotten how bad it feels to throw up, not be able to eat or drink anything. It was food poisoning. That has never happened to me before. I was able to get up later in the day; I wanted to see the temple at Luxor and the Karnak temple because they were so huge. I love looking at things that are that huge. Now I am so tired.

*

Do you realize next week is 2 years since I found you? My beloved, my life, my heart, my soul.

*

Tomorrow I go back to Cairo at 6:00 in the morning—even if I wasn’t so in love with you, I would be hard-pressed to ever travel with Stuart again. I am completely exhausted. But my love for you is strong and that alone will get me through.

*

It’s Sunday night. I saw a beautiful church today that made me feel so close to you. All day today I was puzzled by you and what you are. This land does that to me—I am confused. With your Seth and your magick and your gods and your beliefs. I feel you in all of these things. And I am confused today about what your love for me is . . . how it manifests itself in so many ways it seems. I would go through
so many feelings today. I have had a day of mosques and churches and bazaars and falafel for dinner—nothing, nothing of me. That will happen tomorrow in England. That is a place I want to be with you. Damien, I am and will continue to be vexed by you. I will spend my life figuring it out. At this moment, I have so many questions for you . . . I want to understand so much, I want you to tell me your thoughts—I want to know what you want.

*

Damien . . . it’s Monday morning finally and I am on a plane from Cairo to London. All of the wishing in the world will not make this plane go any faster, nor will it make it fly straight to the United States.

I keep thinking of lovers who have been separated for years without a look, without a word—and right now I feel so fortunate in that in a few hours I will hear you again. All I want to do is talk to you about pure silliness. Anything that you’ve done this week. Anyone that you have seen or talked to, what you watched, any movies. I suppose this little booklet will tell you what I have been doing.

*

I can hardly believe it . . . I am on a plane bound for the United States. I’m not quite there yet, but still, just sitting here, I feel better.

*

My love: I will finish this little book of words and nonsense and—I don’t even know what else. I love you more than you know, Damien. And I am anticipating hearing your voice.

Forever yours,

Lorri

February 1998

My dearest beloved,

Every time you come back, I always forget how it is when you are gone, like a woman who can no longer remember the pain of giving birth. When you are away, it always seems as though you never really even existed, like a sliver of my childhood wishes that fade away once I awaken. It’s like trying to hold on to a handful of smoke. You paw the air frantically, but it still dissolves right in front of you. And you spend your every waking moment trying to recapture what you had for a second, and no one else can even stand to be around you, because your obsession would drive them as mad as it’s already driven you.

*

I keep looking at this picture of you in your blue sweatshirt, and it makes my heart hurt almost beyond endurance. Lorri, I love you so much that it’s killing me. It hurts. I just love you, and I know that other people love you, and I hate them for it. I despise them for it. I love you, Lorri, and it’s a fire in me. I need you inside me.

*

I’ve made progress even now. When you return, I will be better for you. I love you, Lorri. Please feel it. I love you so much.

*

I love you, Lorri. Please hurry back. I cannot live without you. I love you so much.

I am yours for eternity,

D.

March 9, 1998

My beautiful Damien,

Mara just called to tell me she got an email from Grove Pashley that [WM3.org] are running a full-page ad in the
Arkansas Times
of you in the April 24th issue and they are trying to get as many people as possible to go to your hearing. This is going to be all of that stuff, isn’t it? The press, a lot of people. It doesn’t even bother me—I will just sit off by myself and no one will even know I’m there but you. Do you think there is any way Ron can get them to let you be with me? Even to touch you for a moment? Will you be able to wear street clothes?

I just started thinking about all of that. It doesn’t even make me feel strange, just like I am your wife and we’ll do what has to be done. My presence there will calm you. All you will have to do is look at me and you will be fine, because you looking at me will do that to me. We will be the only ones in the room, so I’m OK. I know we will be able to do this and it will be just fine. There is no reason for you to ever worry about me. For this is what I am here for, my love, to be with you—no matter how crazy or insane it gets.

That’s how it is supposed to be, that is why we are the way we are together—to get through this stuff—well, I should say that’s about 1 in a trillion reasons why.

Your love,

Lorri

March 11, 1998

Beautiful one,

My love, we cannot be upset about the court thing. It will be over before you know it. It doesn’t even matter. Lorri, you have to be strong for me. This is going to be hard enough for me as it is; I could not even begin to deal with it if you start that business again. I swear that I won’t even try. They will have to feed me, put my clothes on for me, carry me into the courtroom, and sit me in the chair, because I will refuse to do anything myself. I will just sit there and stare into space. But if you hold up, then we will walk through it without even thinking of it, without even paying attention to it. Maybe we’ll even have a little fun. And I must say that it is going to be fun to wear something that you pick out. You probably shouldn’t get a tie though, I probably couldn’t have it. They’re paranoid. And yes, I will try again to get to touch you. I will try my damndest.

I feel so naked without my hair. Like a turtle that has been stripped of its shell. It feels awful. When we are together, there will never be another haircut. I must admit that there are certain advantages though. I don’t have to brush it. It only takes a minute to wash it, and it doesn’t get in the way while exercising. Still, I would never do it by choice.

There’s a ghost in my head tonight, love. I’m just glad it’s not in my heart.

There’s a song about you by a man named Al Stewart. It’s called “Year of the Cat.” Never has another song been so much about you.

Now the ghost is in my heart.

I am yours for eternity,

D.

April 11, 1998

My beautiful Damien,

I forgot to tell you, when I came to see you on Thursday, one of the guys working out front said, “Mz. Echols, right?”

I love that.

And I love you.

And I will forever.

Lorri

April 17, 1998

My love,

This week was horrible—but I did learn something . . . or I realized something. If we are unhappy or arguing about something . . . we will not ever go to bed without making it all right, without bringing each other back to our place. The only safe place that exists. The only place I want to exist.

So I will never, ever be sad that you haven’t called. I’ll just know you can’t.

And yes, I grind my own coffee and you’ve been listening to too many country songs—Damien, it’s the only kind of coffee to drink!

I love you, my dear, forever,

L.

April 29, 1998

My Beautiful Love,

The anticipation of this court hearing is wearing down my nerves. I don’t want to do this. Last time it was horrible, but this time will be even worse. And they say it lasts all day long. That is better than I had first expected, because I thought it would last two or three days. At least it will not be so long. But that does not make me look forward to it any more. And I do know that everything is going to be just fine, so don’t you start up with your business. I know it will all be fine, and all I have to do is look at you, but that does not make me like it any better. Everything is as it’s meant to be. Ka.