Warning: This journal is going to be extremely long and at times...extremely emotional.

I'm sorry in advance.

Well it has been quite a year for this Wolf to put it in the most basic of terms.

And the thing is, it’s not quite over yet. But hopefully the remainder of 2015 can be a lot better than the first three-quarters. And it started out with such promise for me as well. But alas, things were not meant to stay on that course.

Well first things first I suppose. I do want to apologise for my extended absence. I know I have been doing more apologising than actual involvement on this site like I had in years past, but to be perfectly honest, as most of my followers know, things have been quite life-changing in the past few years. And I really should not have let those things interfere with my social life on here, because I have met so many fantastic people on here who I consider wonderful and interesting and compelling friends, and it was never my intention to be the sort of person who comes on in sporadic bursts and then disappears for large spans of time. And yes, I know I am guilty of doing that, especially more and more in the last couple of years, but again, it’s one of those things that I never wanted to happen, but it did.

But now, after what I will certify as possibly the worst year (so far) of my existence, I want to put the last two or three years behind me and move forward.

I’ve never been the one to shy away from divulging my personal life or going into great details about what I’ve been doing or what events have been transpiring in my life. And it’s not going to be any different this round either.

I started off 2015 with high hopes. I mean yes, the whole turning 30 thing really struck me hard. I just couldn’t believe that another decade, the raunchiest of my life, had come to a close. But I took it in good spirits, joking and accepting it for what it was. We had just finished moving to Louisiana and were getting settled into the whole new routine and looking forward to what the next part of my life was going to bring.
Well it was around March of this year when I started noticing things were changing. And it was changing between me and Nicole. Mainly I started noticing that instead of being happier about the move, something she was adamant about doing because she wanted a life where she wasn’t feeling trapped in a harsh, rural state like Alaska, she was becoming more distracted and distant. I noticed it at first but didn’t think much of it, attributing it to the stress of moving and starting a family and the like.

And to be honest, I wasn’t the most delightful person to be around either. I put on my happy face and went through the motions as was required, but in all reality I hated my job, hated leaving Alaska, hating losing the life that I was so accustomed to having.

But that’s the sacrifice you make when you have children. At least for most people. And for myself, I would do anything for my children. So I bit my tongue and ploughed through every day.

Which brings us to the explanation of what happened next and I’m sure you all were drawing your own conclusions from the title of this journal.

It was the first week of April when I got a phone call from the day-care centre that the twins were at while I was up in the air and Nicole was at school. They asked if I was picking up Phillip Connor and Savannah Maria that day because Nicole had not arrived yet at the usual time. I told them that I didn’t know I was supposed to but I could be there in a couple of hours. (They were picked up at 4 during the week but the centre stays open until 7) After I got off the phone with the director, I immediately rang Nicole to make sure everything was alright. I wanted to make sure that she hadn’t been held up or in an accident, because like me, she is pretty routine and doesn’t stray from a schedule. Well it rang and rang and went to voicemail, so I left her a message asking if everything was okay and to ring me back as soon as she could.

I followed that with a few text messages and after thirty minutes, another phone call.

By the time I got back to Lafayette and was on my way to the centre when she replied with a simple text message telling me she was sorry and I would learn everything when I returned home. I rang again and sent more messages asking what that meant, but never got a reply.
So I picked up the twins, had no answers to offer the director when she asked if everything was alright, and went home to an empty house which was even more unusual. After getting the twins settled, I found a ten-page letter addressed to me on the dining room table and anyone who knows when you are left a letter by a loved one, the contents are never good.

I won’t bore anyone with the extensive details and many, many uses of the phrases ‘I’m so sorry’ and ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ but the basic point of the letter was that Nicole had reached a decision in her life that she was not yet ready for the entire ‘family’ lifestyle and was feeling trapped and unhappy. She felt like she was being held back and that she was going to be missing out on so much in her life by settling into the whole ‘mother’ role. She reiterated that she loved both me and the twins un conditionally, but she needed time to find out what she wanted out of life.

It was all coming out of the blue as far as I was concerned until about halfway through the pages, where she admitted she had met somebody else and was spending time with ‘him’ behind my back. He was as she put it: ‘Younger, ambitious, full of life and adventure, and somebody who lived life one day at a time. Somebody who would be spontaneous and exciting and unpredictable.

The person I used to be.

So I guess growing up and becoming responsible and putting my family before my own happiness was the exact opposite of what she was looking for. I guess I totally misread into that. Perhaps I should have been one of those guys who runs off when things start to get real and lets others clean up the mess and handle the responsibility. To say that felt like a kick to the crotch repeatedly with an iron boot is putting it lightly. After all I sacrificed and gave up to make sure my family were given everything they needed and were supported in any conceivable way, I was walked out on because I was ‘becoming a different person’.

She went to Chicago with this new person she had met. Apparently they had been flirting with each other even before we left Alaska. He was from New Orleans and going to Chicago for a job. She cleaned out her closet and took I suppose whatever fit inside her Subaru and went with him.

I could tell everyone again how much that destroyed me and sent me into the deepest chasm of depression, but I had an entire summer of emptiness and sadness to more than give me my fill. It’s time to move on from that.
The thing that really hurts me the most is just the sneaky way she did it. And then to leave Phillip Connor and Savannah Maria like that. I’m sure she gave them hugs and kisses and told them goodbye that morning when she dropped them off. But to then return home, load up her car, and then just leave like she was dropping off a box of unwanted kittens at the Humane Society door, that I just couldn’t forgive. I can take and handle a lot. God knows I’ve had my fair share of heartbreak and hurt and disappointment…but to walk out on your own children…innocent souls who have no control or understanding of what’s happening in their lives…that I can’t forgive.

To me that is just plainly reprehensible.

It was just shy of a month later when she rang me back to talk. To say I wasn’t the most receptive is a compliment. I pretty much told her first off what I just wrote in the last paragraph. I didn’t mind that she had left me. I didn’t mind how she did it or that she was seeing someone else behind my back. I’m an adult. I can handle it. I can take those lumps and that heartache and still keep moving forward. But to do such a thing to her…to our…children…I couldn’t forgive that. They had no idea what happened or why. All they know is that one day their mother is there…the next she is gone without explanation. And anyone who has grown up without one or both your parents knows what I’m talking about. I don’t care who you are. When you have a child, your whole outlook on life changes. It’s not about you anymore. Like I did, and so many other mothers and fathers before me, you make sacrifices and do what has to be done for them.

Plain and simple.

I asked her if she wanted to get together. To see the twins. I could fly up to Chicago. She said that wasn’t a good idea.
She asked me if I was mad. I asked if she expected me not to be. But I was more empty and hurt than mad. It really takes a lot to make me truly angry. I’ve gone through a lot of horrendous shit in my life, and very rarely have I ever gotten angry to the point where I act in a way or say something I later regret. I told her I felt betrayed and lost.

She asked me if she wanted me to have her relinquish parental rights over the twins. That one struck hard as well. I asked her if she was serious. She said that she didn’t want to come back into their lives in ten or fifteen years and disrupt things. She said there was talk of her new fling and her going over to Italy for a few years, something to do with his line of work. Photo-journalism. She admitted that she thought she was ready to become a mother and have children in her life, but that feeling changed when reality set in. She couldn’t blame me for being upset and understood if I wanted her out of both mine and the children’s lives.

I told her that was a decision I couldn’t make. That was completely in her hands.

I got the court papers the first week of September. Just after Labour Day. Seeing as we never got married, the whole custodial parent thing is pretty easy to get through. Plus her packing up and leaving as she did makes it a pretty easy determination on which parent is better for the twins to stay with. But that’s all in the hands of my lawyers. That’s what they get paid to sort out.

Am I happy that she surrendered custody of the twins to me? I don’t know. Am I sad that in a few years they are going to be asking questions and wondering why things happened the way they did? I don’t know either. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. But one thing I can say with certainty is that I am going to be there for them every single day of their lives.

We’ve talked a few more times over the summer. The conversations are civil but strained. I have no interest in asking her about coming back to me. Someone who can walk out so coldly on their family once is certain to do it again. It’s just the nature of the beast. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way I feel. She talks very little about her life and what she’s been doing. A lot of travel with her new boyfriend. New York. Los Angeles. Even London and Munich. It’s funny, she had to leave a pilot in order to travel the skies. Figure that one out. She asks about how we are doing, but I can tell it’s just out of courtesy. Funny…you spend so many years with a person and they can still become a complete stranger to you. I suppose she has her reasons. Everybody does.

It’s definitely been difficult. I’ve already said it’s been a roller coaster of a year. Along with the depression and feelings of hopelessness and loss, I had to do one thing that I always hate doing, which is reach out to others for help. I just….I just hate being a burden on others. I feel like I have to be the strong one and trudge through life’s obstacles on my own as a testament to my own pride and strength. But I had to call my parents and explain to them what had happened. I told them I needed help because I couldn’t balance my job, the twins, and the house, not to mention all the legal wrangling and everything else, on my own. It was the hardest phone call I ever made.

I hated feeling so helpless.

My mother and father flew down from Pennsylvania and spent the summer. I am really grateful for that. They didn’t have to, but they sacrificed their lives to help me get mine back on track. And I have been a mess. Not only with the depression and emptiness, but my getting up every day, Monday through Sunday, at 3 AM and then working until 5 or 6, returning home, spending every possible minute with the twins until they fell asleep, going to bed myself at 10 or 11, and doing it all over again. I was so lucky to have my parents there to spend with their grandchildren; I couldn’t think of them spending all day at the day care centre without any family around just so I could keep the household going. I was still battling depression, I lost a tonne of weight, I lost enjoyment in everything…writing, photography, music, anything and everything I liked doing seemed moot to me. All I did was work and spend time with the twins. I kept them so close to me. I don’t want to lose them.

But because the cycle of life is constantly turning…I did lose another important girl in my life. Because when you are at your lowest, there is always something ready to happen that makes sure to squeeze just an extra little drop of pain from your wretched body to make sure you don’t get any thoughts about things getting better.

On 24th June, 2015 I lost my beloved Cheyenne.

It was something I knew was coming for awhile now. Unlike with Nicole, I knew that Cheyenne was reaching the final months of her life. Her hip dysplasia and arthritis was growing worse and worse, despite her medications and one surgery to slow the effects. The warmer weather of Louisiana definitely helped ease her suffering, but the cold climate of Alaska had already taken its toll. When she couldn’t even walk off the back porch into the yard without falling I knew the days were drawing near.

Despite my depressed state I found myself out in the garage after the twins were asleep building her the most beautiful coffin I could create.

That was one thing I was always able to do…craft things with my hands…whether it be with wood or words…and I would take into the early morning hours cutting and fitting and fastening the pieces together like a giant jigsaw puzzle. It wasn’t anything I took great pride in doing….it was a necessity more than a trophy…but it kept my mind occupied despite knowing what the end product was for.
Cheyenne would lie on the floor of the workshop, watching me and knowing. I knew she knew. I could see it in her eyes.
I finished the coffin a few days before she was scheduled to go to the vet’s. I put in the last screw of the hinges for the lid and closed it, closing my eyes. I told her it was ready and she looked up at me from her favourite spot on the floor. She tried to get up…something that was now taking her four or five attempts to do and I just watched her and cried. Seems I did more crying this summer than I have in a lifetime. Just to see her struggle like that tore apart the heart that was already in pieces inside of me and all I could do was lie there on that concrete workshop floor next to her and pet her.

If there was ever a time in my life when I felt like everything was taken from me…even losing my eyesight a few years back…that night was certainly it.

I carried her back into the house. It was so sad…she had withered down from a healthy active 92 pound German Shepherd/Timberwolf hybrid to a skinny 48 pounds of soft fur who couldn’t even stand on her own four legs for longer than a few minutes at a time. She was having no quality of life at all and it wasn’t fair for me to keep her going just because I didn’t want to lose another loved one from my life.
The night before her appointment we sat up in the living room, drinking wine and looking at pictures of her in her younger days. I took pictures of her. I petted her. I talked to her. I thanked her for being by my side for the last ten years. I told her she would be in a better place and have a better life come tomorrow. It was the hardest goodbye I’ve ever had to say in my life.

Cheyenne went to sleep at 4:15 PM on 24th/June/2015. She was 13 years, 6 months and 18 days old.
I had to have my father drive the Land Rover home from the vet’s. I couldn’t hold myself together. What a sight I must have been. My mother stayed with the twins, explaining to them why Cheyenne had to leave them. The poor souls. They have been getting many life lessons at an early age this year.

I buried her in the backyard. I wanted to take her to Alaska, her home and a place she knew, but the current status of my life prevented that from happening. And I couldn’t stand the thought of cremating her either. She needed to be at rest in the ground. It was only right. And if anybody wants a weight-loss tip…dig a grave in the hot, humid Louisiana summer and you will be as skinny as a pole in no time. I could have used the tractor…but this was a personal endeavour for me. I owed her the personal touch…it was the least I could do after she had been so loyal to me.

The rest of the summer went by with me being in the same rut. I was happy around the twins. I didn’t want them to see that I was dying inside and growing more and more unhappy as each day went by. My mother could see it. My father could see it. People at work could see it. I was pretty much just going through the motions of surviving without taking any time to enjoy a thing about life.
By August I knew I had to break out of the cycle. I had started the year off with such high hopes…such excitement…and I looked back and saw I had accomplished nothing except working and being a father and crying. My parents urged me to sell the house and move to Pennsylvania to be near them, that way they could help with the twins and I wouldn’t be so overwhelmed. But I declined that idea. Going back to Alaska was also out of the question. I couldn’t be that far away from the world again, taking the twins from a chance to experience the world and all it had to offer. Plus, I had actually grown accustomed to the beautiful weather, and going through months of torrid cold and snow with all the ploughing and ice and long nights just didn’t appeal to me anymore.

But I also knew I couldn’t stay in Louisiana anymore. For as enchanting and beautiful as it was, it wasn’t home to me. The memories were just too bad for me to stay.

So, starting about mid-August, I started to pull myself out of the rut I was in. I inquired about a different position in the aviation industry. Nothing against Delta, but I am definitely NOT a corporate flunky. I prefer doing things the Adrik Richard Wolf way. I got a few leads on some great opportunities in San Antonio, Texas of all places. And Texas is a hotspot of Aviation in the good old United States, so I ventured over, talked with a few people, and got a new job. One that keeps me both up in the air and also at the aeroport and keeps me in a respectable schedule to continue being there for the twins.

The next step was moving. Sold the house. Traded in the minivan. (Thank god) and actually went out and bought a new Land Rover Discovery.

I’m sorry…try as people might…you’re not going to get me to buy anything other than a Land Rover. Its ingrained in my blood. I find a nice four-bedroom townhome…I know…a townhome!...in San Antonio which was brand new construction and was very family and pet friendly. It’s like its own little village inside, with a day-care centre, playgrounds, dog parks, bike trails, swimming pool, resort style club house, all that fun stuff.

The townhome is big enough for me and the twins and a new German Shepherd (when I decide the time is right to adopt another one) and the new live-in Nanny that I hired to become part of the family for the time being.
It’s nice having my parents help out…but they have their own lives to live and one can only take so much of their parents before they start to pull their hair out.

I think Phillip Connor and Savannah Maria are adjusting well. It’s been as awkward and confusing and uprooting for them as for me, but I hope they know that I’m doing all of it for them. My new job gives me flexibility so that I can be around with them as they grow up, even working from home a couple of days out of the week so that way I am around. And the nanny is absolutely fantastic. She loves the twins and is very good with them.

She (as well as my parents) asked me if I’m going to be putting myself out on the market soon and start dating again. I said no. First off, I’ve never been much of a dating type of person. I’ve probably been on less than ten dates my entire life. That’s not my scene. Besides, I’ve got my children to look after. They come before anything else in my life now. But that doesn’t mean I won’t have time to do other things in my life as well.

Like getting back in touch with good friends.

I know it was wrong of me to be gone like I was. I can’t apologise for it enough. But the situation I was in just felt so hopeless that I resorted back to my defence mechanism of shutting down and keeping to myself. I just wanted to give up on everything. I didn’t want to burden anyone with my problems or sound like a drama queen or a complainer. I didn’t want to appear as a failure. I know you all deserve better. Maybe now…after realising all I have lost and not wanting to lose more…I can show the few of you that I have called friends since 2007 and after that I can be better. I would be honoured to give you that chance.

I’ve been back to writing. Despite living surrounded by boxes and unpacking and putting together furniture, I managed to sit down and do a few hours of writing each night after the twins went to bed. It feels good. I have so many ideas to get down, so it’s going to take time. But I did complete two Chapters on my new Mystikal story I started at the beginning of the year. I want to start getting back into posting and commenting on a regular basis like I used to do. It brings me happiness.

I’m sure one or two of you are going to ask about Nicole. Do we still talk? Do I still love her? Can I forgive her for what she’s done?

We do still talk. Either phone calls or occasional emails. It’s down to maybe two or three times a month now though. The twins have started talking…but she grows uneasy about speaking to them. I think she’s ashamed. Maybe she doesn’t want them to know her voice or ask if she’s ever coming home. I don’t know. I’m just letting my mind wander. I have no idea what her reasoning is.

Do I still love her? Every day I wake up loving her. Every day I wake up thinking of her. I miss her terribly and will never understand why she did what she did. But she has her reasons. Like I said, I can take the consequences of her actions. I can reason and understand why some people do the things that they do. Can I forgive her? That’s a very difficult question. What she did to me is par for the course in a relationship. It either happens or it doesn’t. I never wanted to have a broken family. I never wanted to have a child asking where the other parent was and why they left. But that is something I have to face when the time comes. Maybe I’ll have the answers by then.

I can forgive her for what she did to me. I’m adult enough about that.

As for what she did to the twins? Her own children. The two innocent beings who asked for none of this and seemed forgotten when it came to her own selfish whims? That I can’t forgive.

As they say, life goes on.

But I just wanted to give you an update as to what has been going on in my life. I hope it wasn’t too boring despite the incredible length of this journal. And I want you to know that I am the same Adrik Wolf I have always been…perhaps a little more mature and thoughtful…but I can still be funny and childish and warped when the situation calls for it.

In fact…I need to have a little more humour to finish out the year. God knows I’ve had enough sadness.

Until next time…

Take time to think about the ones you care about in your life. Because one day they may not be there.

~Adrik