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Saturday, July 30, 2011

Double Life

Perhaps this is a second part of "My Story...".  In loving a man in prison, there are certain inevitable choices that must be made.  The question I, as I'm quite sure many other women, have had to ask and answer are: Who to tell?  What to tell?  What not to tell?  And who not to tell?  These are definitely not black and white questions/answers.  Surely, there are as many answers to these questions as their are women dating/married to a man in prison.  Here's the short answer, which I'll explore in more detail below.  I've chosen to tell (almost) no one of my relationship and upcoming marriage to KC.  Here's the long answer...

Family~Well, I didn't do so good with this one!  I did tell my immediate family a bit about KC.  Over the last two years, I have told both parents, and a sibling about KC.  But not the entire truth.  I told them only of a friendship that I had developed with a man in prison.  So, here I sit, a grown woman of 37 years afraid to tell my parents something.  Sounds juvenile, right?  Not so fast, remember that looks (and sounds) can be deceiving.  It is with deep thought that I have come to this decision.  While my parents are divorced, and as opposite as night and day, they do share one, well two, things in common.  My brother and me.  My parents, during their careers, were very hard working, professionals.  It makes me happy to see them enjoying their retirement.  I know of no other two people more deserving of a blissfully happy retirement.  That being said, I know what my parents are, and I know what they aren't.  Of all the wonderful, but differing, qualities they posses, neither posses an open mind.  My entire life I have taken the "road less travelled".  Neither of my parents ever seemed remotely interested in getting to know, truly know, my "quirkiness" or "eccentricity".  They've had many opportunities to show an interest in truly getting to know me.  Rather, they have always tried to put me in the "normal" category.  They've tried to rationalize in their own minds how I am like everyone else, despite all indications being otherwise.  So this fueled my restlessness as a kid, and a young adult.  If there is anyone on this planet I want total acceptance and unconditional love from, it is surely the two people responsible for my very existence in this world.  But that ship sailed long before KC entered the picture. So they each have in their own mind who and what I am.  Their idea of who and what I am, is not even remotely close to reality.  So, rather than fight it, I have finally learned to accept their views of me, and I try my best, in their presence, to be what they want me to be.  At this point in their life, I don't want to take that away from them.  Knowing that they would never try to understand or accept me being in love with a man in prison, the exercise of going through the motions of a doomed attempt seems futile.  I truly think I have given them a gift.  The gift to keep their blinders on about who I really am.  To what extent I can, I feel that my choice of silence will help them continue to enjoy their retirements, drama free.  My brother, on the other hand is another story.  He is extremely religious.  He and his wife know of my friendship with KC and they believe I am doing "God's work".  Despite their overzealous religious views, they "get me" more than any other family member, and have truly accepted me, exactly as I am.  I do consider that someday, perhaps, I will tell them.  But that day is not today.  I have a large extended family, and of course if I made to choice to "come out of the prison closet" with them, it would be a result, only, of revealing my secret to my immediate family.

Friends~I have told only friend about KC.  My best friend (since we were 8 years old).  As he so eloquently puts it "you're crazy".  I thought after a couple of years he would come around, but he maintains that "I am crazy".  And again, he knows only that I have befriended a man in prison.  This lack of acceptance on his part is perhaps the saddest of them all.  I wish that I could talk to him about this.  But friendship is about compromise.  He is uncomfortable with me evening mentioning KC.  So, I no longer attempt to push this on him.  I have talked to KC about this and his thoughts are that, even though "only friends", a male friend will be protective in any situation that he perceives as potentially dangerous or hurtful to the women in his life.  So, my "operation prison boyfriend" cover up continues.  As far as my other friends, this is a mixed bag.  I am fairly sure that I know of only a couple of girlfriends that could and would ultimately accept this.  Not that they would like it, but I do believe they would come to accept it.  So why haven't I told them?  Simple.  I have the fear that my confidence in their ability to accept this is misdirected. 

Prison Friends~That label is misleading, because while I started out casual friendships with a handful of people, these friendships have become an important part of my life.  And sanity.  These people, both men and women, have currently, or have had, a loved one in prison themselves.  They started off as "sounding boards" and people who could guide me through the process of learning how to maneuver having a loved one in the prison system.  But they quickly evolved into people that are dear friends.  Ironically, these people perhaps know more about me than my closest family members, and friends.  I am able to talk about KC, and in doing so, I am reminded that KC and I are more than an "idea".  It is in the moments of talking about my dreams, happiness, worries, concerns and joy that my relationship comes alive outside the confines of only my own mind.  Don't mistake the meaning of that.  My relationship with KC is as real and alive as that of any husband and wife.  But the secrecy around our relationship leaves me with a sadness not to be able to share a huge part of my life with those who THINK they know me best.  So, my prison friends have enabled me, the unconventional girl, to feel "normal" in what is the rare instance that I desire that label.

So, that's my double life.  At this point, I'd rather not reveal this to all of my friends and family and have to learn the hard way who will stand by my side and who won't.  So, it is for that reason I've chosen not to reveal my secret.  While it is true that it would certainly be easier to reveal all of this to everyone in my life I find that doing so would actually be the most selfish thing that I could do.  Should the time come that my secret is discovered, I'll have a road map in this, my blog, to refer them to.

One thing that is not lost on me is that only one person in this entire equation that is "my life" knows everything about me.  That person is KC.  There are no secrets between us.  There is nothing left unsaid.  And it is in KC that I have found total acceptance and unconditional love.  Some may ask if all of this secrecy is worth it.  And to that, I would respond, categorically, YES.  His love has made me a better and happier person.  In seeing his transformation, I have hope in ways I never thought I would.  If the person you chose as your life partner makes you a better person, how can you not believe in that love story?  The secrecy stems from my thoughtful attempt to ensure for my friends and family that ignorance truly is bliss.

Friday, July 29, 2011

My Story...

In telling his story, and our story, I guess that my story, to the extent of how I fell in love with an inmate is relevant, and a necessary piece.  There's plenty of "online" prison support websites, of which I belong to two of.  I so often see the "I fell in love with my penpal" or "I think I'm falling for him" messages.  But, when reading these messages, there's almost always a reference to how things will be when the inmate gets out.  This is almost always an indication of troubled waters ahead.  Anytime we start living in the future, and getting wrapped up in our dreams to the extent that we quit living our "now", we stop living our lives.  And to me, that's worse than being in prison.  I guess some don't see the distinction between planning for the future, and living in it. Alright, on to my story of how I got here.

When describing myself, the first thing that comes to mind is "unconventional".  No way around that one.  I never, not for one second, wanted the white picket fence, with 2.3 kids that I stay home with and raise and a husband.  I always dreamed of finding a career I am passionate about, and maybe finding a nice guy who would fit around my schedule.  Commitment is probably the scariest word in my vocabulary.   My best friend in the world is a man, who is also single, and also never been married.  We have been best friends since we were 8.  Last year, in one of our many "searching the meaning of life" conversations, he said something to me I will never forget.  He said "You always seek out men who are not available to you 100%, be it physically or emotionally".  I thought so hard about that, and realized it was true.  And, oddly, this epiphany didn't bother me...at all.  I guess I've always been happy with being in a relationship that fits into my schedule, and on my terms.  I've fallen in love with four men in my life, a lawyer, a stockbroker, a cowboy and an inmate.  The stockbroker and the cowboy led me to where I am today.  The stockbroker taught me everything about what I don't want in life.  The cowboy taught me everything that I do want.  And the inmate taught me who I want it with.  And all four of these men were/are, as my best friend says, "not available 100%".  So, now I know what I don't want, what I want, and who I want it with.  That summary represents about 15 years of my life, and some painful life lessons.  As I'm sure is the case with just about everyone.  The decision to "go it alone" (at least physically, meaning without my man by my side) has consequences, and ups and downs.  The upside is that I never have to compromise on the little things in life like what movie to rent or which family to spend the holidays with.  The downside is that I don't get to do the things that I love with the man that I love.  There are no romantic weekend road trips, or evenings going to the ballet, or a nice quiet evening at home.  The consequences of my decision to "go it alone" are that I have no one to share the big and small, and sometimes scary responsibilities that life throws us all.  There are sacrifices to loving a man in prison.  For example, I love camping.  A lot.  A weekend in my tent, with my family, and my dog, and a beautiful lake fills my soul.  And since I have been with KC, I have not gone camping once.  I spend about ten hours a week writing letters to him.  My job dominates my time, and so much of my weekends consist of him, and taking care of my house.  Glamorous?  Nope.  Necessary?  Yes.  In all the time I spend writing to him, and taking care of his business (and trust me, this takes a lot of time) I never think about what a "chore" this is.  I never get frustrated in having to do these things.  Another thing that rarely pops into my mind is what our life will be like when he gets out in 17 years.  I suppose once in a great while, I think momentarily about it, as everyone does, but these aren't thoughts that consume my life.  Tomorrow is promised to no one.  So, in between the chaotic times of a busy life, when I am afforded the solitude and time to think about our relationship, it is with amazement that I can't help but notice what has happened.  I realize that KC has turned me into a wife (to be) who's spare time consists of taking care of our family matters, and that I compromise some of my wants for the needs of our family.  Our unconventional family.  Everything that I thought I didn't want in a partner/relationship ended up being what I have with a man that is not physically available to me.  The biggest irony is that, for the first time in my life I have found the man that I do want to be 100% physically and emotionally available.  So the compromise now is that I live the life of the dutiful wife with an absent husband.  The reward is always our visits.  When I get to indulge in "our" time.  So, I take a few days off work, leave behind my job, my house, my dog, my family and friends and I get on that plane filled with such excitement to visit the man who gives me the strength, love and support to live this nontraditional life.  I feel so free when I go to visit him, and it fills my soul the way many things used to. My visits to see him also give me the feeling of excitement and adventure that has always fueled my desire to pursue the "unconventional" path that I have chosen.

So, to be in the position to be happily in a relationship with a man in prison it took many external and internal forces slamming together to form a perfect storm.  To fall in love with this man, it took 15+ years of life/love lessons, and coming to terms with being nontraditional in almost every way.  It took a very patient man in prison capable of breaking down the walls around my heart that three other men helped me build.  And, perhaps most importantly, it took his story, his commitment to transform his soul and his strength to pursue the right path in an environment where that is a liability, to restore my faith in love.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Becoming State Property

If you spend any time around someone who has been in prison for a good stretch of time, you'll certainly hear about the term "institutionalized".  But, when I try to verbalize to others what this means, I seem to come up short of a perfect explanation.  Granted, I am not speaking from my own experience, since I've never been to prison, but after exchanging numerous phone calls, about 1,500 letters, and a good number of visits with KC, I do believe I am at least qualified to speak on an outsiders perspective of the institutionalization of KC.  So, what most of us "law abiding citizens" think happens when an inmate goes into prison is that they arrive on a bus, they get strip searched, they get handed their new "uniform" and they go play basketball and poker for however long they are to reside in the cozy environment that is the DOC.  At least that's what I thought.  And perhaps a lucky few would describe that as their prison experience.  But many I'm sure would disagree, and certainly KC would.  KC got out of prison in one state, at the age of 25.  He was originally in prison for 4 years for stealing cars.  He decided after being out of prison for two days to steal a car, with his new "girlfriend" and go on a cross country armed robbery spree.  Of course, he got caught.  But he did get half way across the country.  Hence, picking up armed robbery charges in several states.  So, other than that 3 weeks he was out, since the age of 20 he has spent 19 years in prison...so far.  Once he went into the new state DOC he was caught in, the process of becoming institutionalized began.  He did everything wrong when he got there.  He didn't know how to play the high stakes game of prison politics, and you could say he went all in on the wrong hand.  He did horrible things, and pissed off the wrong people.  It took him about two years to totally undo any chance he had at a "normal" prison experience.  So begins his lengthy stay in solitary.  KC started thinking less and less about what was going on outside his concrete walls topped with razor wire.  Life outside his prison walls became less interesting, and less real.  Things that once mattered in "the free world" lost meaning and value.  Holidays began to have no meaning.  Just another day slipping away.  His only focus was on the tiny four walls that surrounded him.  Desire to obtain the best physique became an obsession.  He began closing himself off to everyone outside of his cell, except his Mom and Dad.  KC finally became institutionalized when he began to accept the fact that the rules and laws of prison are nothing like that of the "free world".  The laws you follow in prison are either the laws of the inmates or the laws of the DOC, and they are polar opposites.  There is no C) All of the Above.  There's no riding the fence.  KC made his choice knowing that this would be how he is defined in prison and seen by the other inmates.  Knowing that his choice, regardless of which side he takes, he will have automatic enemies.  It is irrelevant which side an inmate "picks" in the context of describing the "institutionalization of a man".  But it does, to some extent seal his fate.  There's no "changing teams".  Then came the point that KC learned to accept that no one was looking out for him.  Not the prison Administration and not other inmates (he chose not to affiliate with a gang).  This meant for KC that everyone was a potential threat to him, as he perceived the situation.  Let me give you an example.  Because KC decided not to affiliate with a gang that was "courting him", he made enemies.  Soon after his food started coming in not with the regular inmate food trays (that is slipped into their cell through a trap door), but rather with the "special diet" trays.  He was not on a special diet.  He began getting sick.  Very sick.  Over the course of about a month, he became shockingly thin because he realized whatever the gang was making sure was put on his food tray, it was clearly something designed to poison him.  So, after a couple of weeks of bad stomach pain that was getting worse, rectal bleeding and returning fever, he finally quit eating his meals.  Of course he attempted to be seen by the doctor, but they maintained it was likely a cold or the flu.  He asked the Chaplain to intervene (since many diets that differ from the standard diet are due to religious reasons, he would be able to assist in this matter) and make sure he is served the standard inmate diet, not a special diet.  The people responsible can't dictate which regular food trays go to what inmate, so the only way to poison an inmate through his food tray is do it with a special diet tray that will be given specifically to that inmate.  Well, the Chaplain did attempt to intervene, and was successful for a few days.  But then, KC started receiving the special diet trays again.  As luck would have it, right about then, the kitchen jobs were outsourced to the sex offenders who were housed in a different location.  Therefore, no food tampering was possible.  But, the point of that story is that when you learn to accept this is your fate, this is how your going to go out, despite there being numerous people around you who SHOULD be able to help, you've become institutionalized.  When you come to terms, and accept the fact that you are a second rate citizen who is not worthy of adequate health care, a proper diet, and prompt attention in an emergency, you've become institutionalized.  Once KC finally realized that every decision about him would be made for him, by an agency that did not have his best interest in mind, he was completely institutionalized.  He became, and to this day, remains a piece of state property.

Sunday, July 17, 2011

His Story...

I thought I'd share a little bit more about "his story".  You see, KC isn't exactly your "normal" inmate.  He's been labeled by the prison system he was in as "the worst of the worst" and spent a decade in solitary confinement.  Yes, that's right.  A decade.  As I said earlier in this blog, his worst crimes were not committed out here in the free world, but rather behind prison walls.  His story is long, but the bottom line is this.  When he went into the DOC in the state he was in, he didn't know how to maneuver the "politics of prison".  And for those people who don't have to be close enough to the prison system to know that prison politics is very real, and it's high stakes, to say the least.  He was a kid when he went in, and he was on a self destructive path.  A recipe for disaster.  He engaged in numerous fights, one of his assaults was enough to yield an additional three year sentence.  Another one of his actions resulted in an additional ten year prison sentence.  That crime resulted in someone losing their life.  While KC did not murder an inmate, he did have a part in that inmate losing his life.  That crime sealed his fate with the DOC.  This was the main reason the DOC vowed never to let him into a general population setting again.  And while my heart is saddened, beyond words, for the loss of that man's life, and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about his family, I do see the distinction that KC was not the main person responsible for that man's death.  KC never laid a hand on the inmate.  He did what he did for selfish reasons.  But to be told by the DOC that no matter what you do from here on out, you'll never get out of solitary is a breach of what the purpose of solitary is.  Solitary confinement is not a weapon of revenge for the Department of Corrections, or I should say, it's not supposed to be.  It's a tool, a resource, to safeguard other inmates and staff from dangerous inmates.  To be given an indeterminate sentence of solitary defies the logic behind it.  It's a tool that should be used sparingly, and for as short of an amount of time as necessary.

That's the short story of how KC landed into solitary.  And once he got to solitary, his heart and mind grew more restless and dark.  He did not get anymore charges, but he tells me of where his mind was at for the first 3 years in solitary.  He had violent dreams of killing people, and of wanting to be killed.  Until one night.  He tells me of one night that he dropped to his knees and prayed to God to end his life, end his suffering, or to restore his soul.  He felt he had no soul.  He said over the next few weeks, he continued to pray, and ask only that of God.  He said that slowly, but noticeably, his attitude started to change.  He was filled with complete rage before.  And the rage seemed to subside a little with each passing day, until he noticed he was much more at peace after a few weeks, and then months.  He started to acknowledge the things he had in his life, and feeling gratitude for them.  He continued on that path and to this day, still is.  He hasn't associated himself with any particular religion or faith, but rather as he puts it "I believe in God, and I talk to him every day.  I tell him what I am thankful for, and I ask him to watch over the people I love and forgive me for the awful things I have done in my life."  He said after several years, he felt like an entirely new man.  He felt worthy of love for the first time in his life.  He said that he felt like a good person.  And truly, if someone is able to look at who he is now, and not prejudge based on his past, then most would see that he is a good person.  I remember when I first saw his story on the prison outreach website.  I immediately went to the DOC web page and looked him up.  The web page shows all of his sentences and crimes, and also all of the disciplinary infractions he has received since being in prison.  He had quite a few infractions for the first 5 years he was in prison.  And then they just stop.  Not one infraction in ten years.  I knew nothing of the prison system when I reached out and started writing to him, but I knew that "meant something".  And indeed, it did.  That was the point in his life that he began reaching out to God, and establishing a relationship with God.  Now, years after his soul searching and relationship with God, his life, soul, heart and mind are truly, and in my/his opinion permanently, transformed. 

The effects of solitary confinement are horrific.  Luckily, KC seems to have been able to hold at bay the many mental disorders associated with long term confinement.  Although he has become a product of his environment in that he is extremely introverted, and wants only myself and his Mom in his life.  I've tried having friends write to him, in hopes that he will develop some more friendships, and attempted to gently encourage him to make friends with people he is in prison with.  He wants nothing to do with any of my suggestions.  He just wants me.  I will always continue to try to have others reach out to him, and him do the same.  Perhaps one day he'll make a new friend.  But until then, I'm just happy that he has been able to keep his sanity, and his faith in God through some of the most trying times.  I have now been down to where he is to visit him four times, about every six months.  We continue to develop an ever strengthening bond.  I sit in front of this man with a joyful heart.  I am happy to be his future wife.  I can only imagine how that would look to an outsider looking in.  What most people see is "the worst of the worst".  What do I see?  A man who's heart turned to stone, and who's soul was almost entirely gone.  I see a man who started his life out way before the start line.  Most of us, including me, are fortunate enough to start life at the starting line.  We're born to good, god fearing, hard working parents, who raise us with discipline and love.  Now his parents seem like truly good people.  But I do know that by the time KC was 12 he was already in trouble with the law.  By the time he was 20 he had his first 5 year prison sentence.  Things went down from there.  So, what I see is a man who had to fight, literally for his life, to get to the start line, that we all take for granted.  I have told him many times that he has accomplished more in his life than I have with mine.  Oh, I'm sure many would disagree with that, to most I look to be successful.  And if material things define success, then under that definition I am successful and he is not.  I am well educated, have a high paying career that I love, own my own home...etc.  But only after getting to know KC do I realize these material things are not what defines a human being.  He is the most successful man that I have ever met because he has restored his heart, soul and mind.  Although if you ask him he would tell you that God had just as much to do with it as he did.  I challenge everyone to truly evaluate what makes a person "good" and "successful". 

This entry just scratches the surface of "his story".  His story has changed considerably in the last month.  He is no longer in solitary confinement.  Due to a complicated sentencing structure he recently sued (and won) for his out of state transfer.  Is it a victory?  Partly, yes.  We got him out of solitary, and the state DOC he was in.  Now he has a chance at a fresh start.  He's at the reception center in a new state awaiting to be classified.  He has been going to meals with other inmates now for several weeks, his first time in a decade and he is enjoying being in a less solitary environment.  This is all good news.  Although eventually he will have to go back to the state he was in.  And part of the reason why I don't consider this a victory is because we didn't accomplish anything with the DOC's mentality on solitary confinement.  He has told me to let that go and "let's move on".  But I can't.  I am very passionate about the overuse of solitary by DOC's in this country.  Because I have had to experience them, with KC first hand.  (As close to first hand without being in prison)  I'll blog more about solitary later, right now I am trying to enjoy the good news of his new start.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

My First Visit

A little over two years ago I was off to see my new friend in prison.  When I land at the airport, I pick up my rental car, and drive the hour to the town his prison is in.  I get to the hotel, which was an amazing quasi B&B.  It was late, so I was ready for bed.  I remember sitting on the bed, nervous beyond explanation, thinking "WHAT AM I DOING HERE?".  I got little sleep that night, and got up the next day and prepared for my first visit, not just to a prison, but to a super max prison.  Where the "worst of the worst" are housed.  There was a paperwork glitch and my friend had not been brought to the visitation area.  So I sat, and looked around at the dimly lit room, with all of the loved ones of the incarcerated in the room I was in, and the inmates in their own cages on the other side of the glass window, sporting the most offensive color orange I had ever seen. I decided to duck into the bathroom and give myself a pep talk in the mirror, like something you would see in the movies. Telling myself "I can do this". This is my friend I have been writing to for over 7 months. I walked out of the bathroom and glanced at our assigned "non contact" booth, and I see my friend, with his handcuffs on, behind his back, and they are taking them off. My heart sank. I remember two distinct thoughts...the first was "Why are you handcuffing him! He's not going to do anything!" The next thought was "I feel like I am trapped in an episode of Dateline". I stood there and looked at him, finally sat down, and picked up the phone to talk. I don't remember what the first thing I said to him was, nor what he said to me. The first thing I remember him saying to me was "You look very classy." I was touched by his genuine compliment and told him that orange looked good on him (my attempt at a joke). I looked at his hands, knowing what horrible and violent acts they had committed. I looked deep into his eyes to see if I saw a person responsible for taking the life of another, or a transformed man. His eyes, to this day, after many visits captivate me~as I see sadness and hope in him. Our first three visits flew by. I was his first visitor in over a decade. So, I sat before one of the most violent offenders in the state and I was filled with friendship and love. I knew that this man was going to be a part of my life forever. We talked about many things.  About me, about him, and our lives.  KC is a very serious man, and he used every opportunity to share with me how he felt about me and our friendship.  There were a few times when neither of us spoke, but our eyes locked, and we just looked into each others eyes for what, under most circumstances, would have been an uncomfortable amount of time, but wasn't for us.  It was an amazing feeling, raw, and among the most sincere moments of my life.  I remember, at my last visit thinking I just wanted to hug him, give him some positive human interaction. Aside from "cuffing up" every time he leaves his cell he has not been touched by another person in over a decade.

I visited him three days in a row, and they were all wonderful visits.  The Correctional Officer's give a "5 minute" warning before the visits conclude.  And on the last day of our visits, after the Officer had given his "5 minute" warning, my eyes filled with tears.  I am a law abiding citizen, my worst act is one speeding ticket.  But I found myself thinking "What if I just refuse to leave?"  I didn't want to leave him there.  I never wanted anything as badly as I wanted to take him with me, to get him out of that hell on earth environment he faces daily.  My mind was racing, and multiple thoughts and flashes were popping through my mind.  None of which I can now remember.  I just didn't want to leave him there.  But when it was time to leave, I made myself get up out of the chair and walk away from him.  I looked back at him several times trying to "memorize" his face.  I kept it together until I got out to my car.  When I got into my car I lost it.  I started sobbing, uncontrollably.  I forced myself to put the car into drive, pulled out my directions to the airport, and was rather happy that I had the distraction of being rushed to make the hour drive to the airport, and car rental return in time to make my flight.  I got onto the plane, trying to think about anything but our three visits.  Once I was on the plane, I started to let myself think about what had just happened during my three visits to him.  A few hours later I was home, and returned to several letters from him in my mail box.  I had the next couple of days off work to really think about everything.  It was during this time that I knew that I was in love with this man.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

I made a new friend.

I guess I'll start by talking about my fiancee and me.  I met my fiancee three years ago.  I met him through a prison outreach/penpal website.  I still have no idea what drew me to look at the website, but I did.  KC calls it fate.  Perhaps.  But I wrote to him.  He wrote back right away.  The letter captivated me.  Here was a truly broken man.  A man who had once done terrible things.  For the first time in my life, I promised not to judge this man for his past.  That's all he asked of me.  He said "Judge me for what I say and do to you now, not my past.  I'll show you that I am no longer that man that I was.  I'll earn your friendship."  I agreed to those terms.  Our letters continued, and they consisted of two friends getting to know each other on a deeper level.  Slowly, he began confiding in me about all of his crimes.  Including crimes he committed that he was never charged with.  He told me that he wanted just one person in his life that he could confide in, be totally honest with about his past, and not fear being judged.  I was that one person for him.  I soon realized that being that person to him meant I had to see a side of humanity that I didn't even realize existed.  I typically go through life believing "all people are basically good".  But that isn't always the case.  As KC, for about 10 years of his life had a blackness in his heart.  His worst crimes were not committed out here in the "free world" but rather once he went into prison.  I'm just a normal kind of girl, grew up in a middle class family, with parent who had "respectable" jobs.  I never needed for anything, and my youth was full of love.  I put myself through college, got a great job, and my career was off and running.  I am a political enthusiast, and enjoy conversations of the "cerebral" sort.  Due to the line of work I am in, a vast majority of my circle of friends are professionals in business, healthcare and a few lawyers.  So, this entire friendship was unchartered territory for me, to say the least.  In addition to getting to know my new friend KC, I started learning about the DOC he was in.  Getting to know what really goes on in prison is almost as horrific as hearing the stories of what inmates do to get locked up in them.  With each letter, I got to know KC more, and I really began developing true feelings of friendship for him.  So, I suggested that I should come down and see him!  He really didn't want me to at first, because he was in solitary confinement (a discussion I will blog about another time) and therefore our visit would be "non contact".  This meant there would be glass between us, and we would speak to each other through a phone.  Our visits would only be two hours long.  He changed his mind almost immediately and said he wanted me to visit him.  So, I applied for special visits with the Visitation Office at his prison.  And we were granted 3 two hours visits.  So, after 9 months of corresponding with KC I bought a first class plane ticket, rented a car, got a fabulous hotel room (I figured why not go in style!) and I was on my way to see my new friend!