Three Derby Wins

At a Halloween party this weekend I met Gary Stevens the hall of fame jockey.

I love horse racing, and so I was genuinely really excited to meet him. This guy has been the winner of the Kentucky Derby three times, and is almost a Triple Crown winner...and it got me to thinking was one win better than the others?

I mean, when you do something amazing three times, is it better the first time- or the last time?

This guy has a few kids, including a 16 month old daughter he has with his smoking hot second wife, who I also met at that party. I have had people tell me the the day their child was born was the best day of their lives, and although I really wanted to ask him if the birth of his children were better days for him than crossing the finish line first at Church Hill Downs I kept myself from it.

So this dude was born in March of 1963 and I was born in November 1963 that makes him 8 months and three Derby wins ahead of me.

I've never done anything incredible in my life and it bugs me every single day.

Granted I have never tried to be a jockey, so am not literally comparing myself to Gary Stevens, its just being around people who are really accomplished in some unique way it makes me wonder-what the fuck...why am I not really excellent at something.

And then I come to the same conclusion, I'm not really good at anything that people give a shit about.

I could make a lame list of the things I am competent - like anyone else- but objectively I'm not really excellent at anything. I'm not saying this in any self deprecating way, I don't think most people are excellent at one particular thing- I'm just not sure it bothers people as much as it bothers me.

I've always considered myself ambitious- but really if I was truly ambitious wouldn't I be more than I am today?

I passed the California Bar examination the first time I took it- so there's that- but that was in 1992- a good eightteen years ago..so I'm about due to do something else anytime now. I can only bask in this glory for so long- and in all honesty I think the statue has run on this accomplishment at this point

My first problem with doing something "amazing" is I will need to try something "amazing" in order to accomplish it. This will be the most troubling part of the task for me- as although I think about climbing Mt. Everest frequently, I consider trying to swim the English Chanel monthly, and I would be willing to be a part of any space exploration program- I don't see any of these as true opportunities, so I'm somewhat limited.

I know I should try to be the best parent I can to my daughters- and that this accomplishment should be beyond all.

I think its time for me to accept I may never be asked to take my picture at a toddlers Halloween party by someone who knows I did something exceptional...like winning the Kentucky Derby three times....yet it occurs to me as long as I am the best person I can be for my daughters nothing else really matters.

Yet still, winning the Derby- it has to be pretty sweet....

I'm Straight

I went to law school about twenty years ago..which objectively seems like a really long time...

One of the guys I went to school with- I'll call him Chuck- because his name is Chuck- is a partner at a comp defense firm and I see him in court every once in a while. I have always liked Chuck, which is sort if big because the people you typically meet in law school are a bunch of blow hard assholes- I mean think about it - they all want to be attorneys.

So about twenty years ago- I'm walking down the hall at school and I see Chuck talking on the pay phone- yes pay phone because this is BEFORE the cell phones - BEFORE getting bar results "on line"- because this was a long ass time ago....

Chuck gets off the phone I notice all the blood has drained out of his face, and it looks like he just took a really good one to the balls.

I ask him what was wrong and he tells me the phone call was with a woman he met on a cruise and she just told him she was pregnant.

And so I'm thinking- fuck...but I say something like-she doesn't have to have it...and he says he thinks he loves this woman and she is really everything he could want- and that this was his destiny...and because Chuck is a real stand up guy he marries her and they have two more children and settle behind the orange curtain in Yorba Linda of all places.

Through the years I would ask him about his family and I got the sense marriage was maybe less than he expected, but he didn't ever really complain.

So- I see him the other day at court and he is just finishing up his very messy and expensive divorce...twenty years later.

Seems his wife had multiple affairs throughout the marriage and was prone to fits of rage.

Based on what Chuck told me to call her unstable would be an insult to unstable people. While Chuck was creating a law firm and supporting the family, his wife was messing around and working a couple of days a week as an aerobics instructor.

"I learned if you meet a girl on a cruise and she gets really drunk with you and jumps in the sack after knowing you a few hours- and then tells you 45 days later she's pregnant you shouldn't marry her. I won't be making that mistake again," he said.

While Chuck was telling me about the divorce trial I felt myself begin to dry heave.

Child support, spousal support, custody arrangements, investigators, psychologist, his lawyer fees, her lawyer fees... it all seemed really terrible.

Luckily for Chuck the guy she had her last affair with - the "soul mate du jour" - is going to marry her July 1, 2011. This means the end of spousal support for Chuck.

"I used to want to kick his ass, but now I want to send him a fruit basket. I just hope he sticks in, I really need to get her off my dance card," he said.

Chuck's story was a body blow to me- I honestly didn't think divorce was that big of a deal until recently...now that I can get divorced (because I'm married) - it seems so amazingly difficult. Throw in twins, step sons, a few worthless pieces of property, leases on cars, and credit cards...its overwhelming.

Earlier this week a couple of friends came over for wine and the conversation turned to infertility. One of the women explained how after two years of infertility treatments and the subsequent birth of her son, she endured four additional years of treatment to try and have another child.

"I finally just couldn't do it anymore," she said.

I can't believe she did it as long as she did. We had two years of the hell of infertility - which for two women is to be somewhat expected as there is a glaring challenge- yet even with this knowledge- it was really very difficult. I could only think how much harder it would be to be a man and woman in that situation- they are supposed to be biologically equipped...right?

This experience gave me a great deal of empathy for people faced with this issue.

Just thinking about those years gave me such of wave of anxiety, I took an Ativan. Perhaps because it was on the heels of my conversation with Chuck- but for the first time in my I began feeling really straight....

Never in my life did I think I would so personally relate to getting divorced and/or infertility...and I came to the realization - being Gay is like being a puppy your whole life.

I know, this" Peter Pan" existence is a life that can lack depth, but really now I'm an middle aged dog....

When your Gay you can't reproduce with your same sex partner without a great deal of effort, and financial resources- so most don't- now you can't get married in this state-- so that eliminates the whole divorce thing. No marriage - no children - your problems when you hit an exit ramp are reduced 98%.

Arguably this is simplistic, yet it is actually true.

I traded in my gay card for a straight card-and honestly I do have those moments I would like to trade it back and be a puppy again...

A Full Moon

Theres a full moon tonight and it always makes me think about being a werewolf...and if I was I would be tracking down some unsuspecting goat or lamb to kill, and it is in those moments I sort of scare myself.

And then I think about space travel, and how going to the moon seems like a really fucking stupid idea.

Recently I have considered trying to obtain employment on the Space Station as sometimes I find the idea of spending an extended amount of time away from earth appealing, yet I'm pretty sure I would have to be an astronaut and I don't have time or energy for that - so there's that....

I am not a fan of science fiction, I didn't see any of those hobbit movies. I can't get my head around any of of it. I did enjoy some of Ray Bradbury's stories, I think I read the Illustrated Man in Jr. High, and every time it rains I think about The Martian Chronicles- so my enjoyment of sci fi is really very limited.

I saw a few of the Star Wars movies, until I couldn't understand who was related to who- that whole the first movie was the last movie or something like that- I need things to be in chronological order...so after Return of the Jedi I was pretty much lost.

A friend of mine was proposed to after the last Star Wars movie. Apparently, this event had a significant meaning to her now husband. He's a comic book, trekkie dude, which is always baffling to me- I don't understand how he can keep it all straight in his head, the villains, and good guys, everyone looks sinister to me- I can't tell anyone apart.

A proposal after the last Star Wars movie is arguably a little bit lame, yet thoughtful and sweet is a really dorky way.

So looking at the moon tonight it got me thinking about werewolf's, space travel, Star Wars and then marriage proposals....

Gioconda said she would never remarry, but in June of 2008 during the window period marriage licenses were being issued to same sex couples, we had just found out she was pregnant with twins.

Since she thinks marriage is important only if you have children, and we were having children, specifically two children, marriage became something we were both considering.

"If you weren't pregnant you would not have married me?", I ask relatively frequently.

"No, the only reason I married you was because I was pregnant," she always responds.

That seems harsh until you consider my proposal. It wasn't romantic, or actually even clever.

I asked her via text.

Jody: Queers can now get married- I think we should...

Gioconda: Is that a proposal?

Jody: Yes

Gioconda: Let me think about it and I will send you an e-mail.

In retrospect she never said yes, but we got married anyway....

Theres a full moon tonight - and it just got me thinking....

The Sizzler

Tonight we took the girls to My Gym and afterward decided to go to dinner.

Pasadena has great places to eat, and we could have gone to Old Town, but it was left up to me and so I make the decision...the Sizzler.

In fairness, I hadn't been to a Sizzler in a really long time, yet it was nothing like I remembered. Although the neighborhood was not the ghetto, the Sizzler was...

"People with false teeth don't need tooth picks," I overheard a man say as I was deciding between the shrimp and the chicken ( I choose the shrimp which at this point in the night does not feel as though it was the best selection).

It was pure section 8, (909) crowd. The false teeth guy and his wife who sounded like she had one to many Marborl red packs, a black dude with shower shoes and a braided goatee, a man with a really bulbous nose, and a bulging shirt pocket filled with what appeared to be three hundred receipts sleeping at one of the tables...the unfortunate waitress with bangs, a Denny's reject.

Star Wars bar.

When I was in high school I loved the Sizzler, as there was one conveniently located near where I grew up, my sister and I ate there at least once a week.

Admittedly the food did taste somewhat institutional, like it was all made in the same big vat, yet it was oddly satisfying, all those choices and as much as you could eat.

But tonight...I was a pig among a bunch of other white trash pigs. It never felt like that to me before.

Maybe its the Sizzler has changed, maybe its me that has changed...although it maybe a combination of both, but I am entertaining the possibility I've changed a whole lot.

Sure maybe it was an off night at the Sizzler on Aroyo, yet there are just some things I am just not willing to participate in anymore.

I'm never going to paint any wall again, or put together any furniture.

I'm not going to clean a carpet, and I may never wash my car again. I'm not mowing my yard, (unless I can get one of those cool riding mowers, which I have considered), and I am never gong to take a bus anywhere. I will never unclog a toilet.

I will never again watch Japanese animation.

My dad is the type of guy who does everything himself. Don't get me wrong, he isn't handy at all, but he washes his car and mows his yard at least once a week, and he's 70 this year. At 47, I'm done with all that shit.

Its not I think I'm too good...its just I don't want to do anything I hate unless I REALLY have to.

So I won't be eating at the Sizzler anymore, not just because of the scary crowd, or the gross vinyl booths, Formica table tops, the gold, green and orange color combination...its that it isn't worth the effort- or the calories...

Yet it made me a little bit sad- eliminating the Sizzler...although I may take my dad for his birthday, he loves that place.

Meerkats

There is this attorney at the last firm I worked out who is also Gay. Her name is Jiblet and she is no way resembles me other than the fact we are both lesbians.

So- a few times a month I will have someone come up to me at court and either call me Jiblet to my face, or begin talking about a case we have together- the problem being the case they are talking about isn't my case- its Jiblet's case.

Jiblet tells me she has had the same experience.

So now I say, " You must be talking about Jiblet, I'm the other lesbian."

I don't do it to make the person feel stupid, its just as though to them I'm a meerkat and I look just like the other meerkats...its the lumping us all in the same place I don't like.

A few times a month someone will tell me I look like Ellen Degeneres and I so don't look like her at all. May be its the lack of dress wearing- I just can't know, but people say it all to me all the time.

I'm guessing people aren't walking up to Ellen and telling her she resembles Jody Downey, so I think this is a unilateral problem, flowing just in my direction, but then again- maybe people are telling Ellen she looks like that Gay woman from the show Glee- whatever her name is....

The other day I worked with a court reporter who told me that her and her husband "just love Rachel Maddow", what she was really telling me is that she was down with the lezbos. It was an awkward moment, as I was unsure how to respond-yet I appreciated the gesture, I prefer this over hostility.

Gioconda says that being Gay increases a persons overall cool factor, I tend to disagree. Overall I have found it to be a pain in the ass, but I think that's mostly because I endured a queer childhood, which at best was isolating.

I grew up feeling as though no one knew me, and if they did chances were pretty good they would not like me- or not just not like me, but try to kick the shit out of me. Growing up in Orange County in the 1980's it was like illegal to be Gay.

I didn't really understand the people I was around, and they certainly didn't understand me. I felt as though I was on the outside looking in, which it something I still struggle with to this day.

Sometimes I wonder what I would be like as a queer teenager in today's world, I don't know...it would have to be easier, but then I think maybe not...maybe it wouldn't be the same - I'm not sure. When you are different from 95% of the women in the world, its not easy...

So with facebook I'm now reconnecting with people I knew in high school, and although there have been a few troubling encounters, overall the majority of the people I have "friended" from those years have been kind and accepting.

Still- when I posted that I was still married after the ruling on Prop 8, a woman I was never friends with in high school, but "friend" in facebook world, commented that - she would not comment because she was "very conservative".

So by not commenting- she was clear in her message- I should not be married. I wanted to punch her in the head. She was an ugly heartless mean girl in high school and 30 years later she was that same person.

I happen to know this woman was on marriage #2...so theres that. I blocked her, but fantasized about exacting a more personal form of revenge. This really, really bothered me.

So here's the deal- straight people never and I mean NEVER have to deal with this type of crap. They never have to rationalize their lives to anyone...no one ever says to straight people- if you haven't had sex with the same sex how do you know you aren't Gay?

Yet I get this all the time.

Being Gay changes who you are in the world- but growing up Gay changes who you are to the core. Its much easier for Gioconda to be "out" as she enjoyed the privileges of heterosexuality for the majority of her life and with that privilege a membership in a club I have never been nor could I ever be a member.

Being a parent has changed much of this for me. In the end I think- or hope- everyone wants the same thing for their children, and so with that there is a commonality I share with most of the world I hadn't before, and this has taken me to another side of life which is inclusive for the most part.

What I do have is I've been true to myself, I've never tried to be anything other than who I am- be that good or bad.

And I remain thankful no one has told me I look like Martina, at least not yet....

A diversion from working....

So I have this thing- when I didn't have a "job"- as in when I was working as a contract attorney, I was constantly thinking about getting a job-job. Now I have a job-job and I constantly worry about loosing it...which maybe if I was working instead of writing this stupid blog I could relieve some of my stress...

But I won't do that- I will continue to write this and in a few minutes I'll go outside and smoke...so theres that.

I don't help myself in any way.

Gioconda's father says if it was fun to work you wouldn't get paid for it...which has certainly been my experience. I know I shouldn't complain- because I get paid a relatively good amount of money in relation to the actual work I do- meaning I was sweeper at Disneyland for about $12.34 an hour during college and that really sucked shit, so comparatively...

Its difficult for me to find a comfortable spot in most situations- work is no different I suppose.

Recently I have considered what I think must be the most difficult job on the planet, pre-school teacher. It must be completely unnerving, I have two and find it utterly overwhelming- I can't imagine having 30...

Tonight I was cleaning up the kitchen and for reasons still unknown to me Sadie got so upset she stopped breathing.

This is something she does...and it freaks me out like nothing I have ever experienced. Our pediatrician says at worse she will pass out and then start breathing...great.

Here's the problem- no one bothers to mention this stuff when you are considering having children.

It would have been nice for someone to just say something like ;

" By the way, if you have children your life wil become a preoccupation of keeping them alive, and this is a one way street- your childern will not be on the same page and will frequently do things contra indicated to living..."

I love my daughters beyond measure- yet had I had any working knowledge of what it would be like...

After I told a friend of mine we were expecting twins she gave me a really tight hug. At the time I thought she was just happy for me, but now I know what she meant- I wish she would have just said the words-

" You have no fucking clue what is about to happen to you..."

Me and Vanessa

Early this morning I had a dream I was in the Walmart buying gardening tools.

After leaving the store I ran into my good friend, Vanessa Williams who had just come from the dentist. She had new veneers put on her teeth and wanted to show me. There was a chemistry between us, and when she licked the end of my nose it felt both intimate and sexy...and in all I thoroughly enjoyed it.

While walking her to her car across what appeared to be a meadow from the corner of my eye I noticed a dinosaur in the distance. Walking upright on two legs, it was a few moments before he noticed me.

It was only a matter of time before he was on me, but somehow although locked in his jaws I was able to free myself. Objectively one would think that this would be terrifying, yet I felt no terror.

The dinosaur then headed toward a river flowing through the meadow to attack two pigs, who strongly resembled my pigs, perhaps distant cousins of my pigs, I simply wasn't close enough to be certain.

Luckily for the pigs there was a freighter headed down the river followed by two cowboys on horse back who quickly lassoed the beast and tied him up- the next time I saw the dinosaur he was hog tied on the deck of the freighter.

"You should take him to a museum," I suggested to captain of the boat.

Before heading back through the meadow I took a moment to reflect on the events, its not every day you get assaulted by a dinosaur while walking Vanessa Williams to her car after she shows you her new teeth and puts her tongue on your face.

Apparently Vanessa ditched me just prior to my being accosted, which is disappointing as it did feel as though there was at least a little something between us.

Although uncertain what government entity one should call in case of a dinosaur attack, it did feel as though she could have at least tried to hit it with her car or something...some diversion.

That lick to the bridge of my nose was seducing, but its over between Vanessa and I - I have to draw the line somewhere....

I briefly thought about trying to decode this dream- but came to the conclusion I must be going through something- or a lot of something and decided to just leave it at that....

Jealousy

Recently I had a conversation with a woman who is going through a relatively amiable divorce. I say relatively as in my experience no break up is ever amiable- throw in issues of child custody and money- in the end its all a cluster fuck even in the best of circumstances.

So she hasn't worked in nine years as she has stayed at home to raise their two children (9 and 6). He has maintained the spacious home they bought several years back, and she has taken residence in a small rental.

Although he is paying her support she is still struggling financially, she hasn't been able to find solid employment and her 9 year old son is being bullied at school.

"I have the support of my family, and my children know that I really love them," she said in mitigation of her current plight.

In talking about her relationship she told me her soon to be ex-husband was disconnected, he didn't care what she did or who she did it with. I didn't ask her but I got the feeling she didn't think he ever really loved her.

He wasn't jealous....

I have been through my share of break-ups. At this point I would say I would much rather be the dumpee rather than the dumper, although I certainly have been on both ends.

Once I dated a woman who I was exceptionally crazy about. There was passion, and with that a level on intensity and subsequent jealousy I had never experienced.

When I began seeing her I had just been dumped by another woman with whom I was maintaining a "friendship", mostly out of my desire to not feel completely discarded.

Predictably this became a huge issue in our relationship. At first I found it somewhat flattering, reeling from being the dumpee, it felt as though her jealously was a source of security- she wouldn't leave as the mere thought of me being with another woman was intolerable to her.

In order to maintain a degree of harmony I would update her at the beginning of the week with my schedule.

This seemed to work unless there was an unexpected change. One time after a visit to the dentist to repair a crown that had come loose , an event which was on the schedule, I had to have a unexpected root canal.

In my life I have had two root canals and these procedures are at the best painful and unnerving, understandably through the course of the afternoon I didn't have an opportunity to call the woman I was dating.

Once I was finished with my long hellish afternoon, the multiple voice mails she left told me every thing I needed to know.

The first one was pleasant enough- just checking to see how it went at the dentist- by the fourth message she wasn't quite as friendly- as in where the fuck are you.

Panicked I called her the minute I left the office.

"You don't sound right, you sound like you have been drinking," she said.

No shit- I had a root canal. But I didn't say that, because it felt as though her jealously was somehow linked to her desire for me and only me.

After a few minutes on the phone I was able to convince her I spent the afternoon in the dentist chair not in the bed of another woman. After being satisfied I was really where I said I was the subject of my root canal and subsequent recovery was not revisited.

Once I recovered from my dental trauma and had an opportunity to reflect on the event I came to the realization that this woman I thought loved me- really didn't.

Her jealously was about her, not about how she felt about me at all...I happened to be the person in that specific place in her life. I was no different from her last lover or the next lover...I was merely a space holder in her life at that particular moment in time.

Although it took me a while to disconnect myself from my feelings this sobering realization set me on the path.

Inevitably the relationship cooled, and at lunch one day she told me she was dating another person she thought she really liked and needed to stop seeing me completely, which I understood, but it still felt like a loss.

So at the moments I found myself missing her- I just thought about about my tooth....

Happiness

Recently while arguing about something I truly can not recall, Gioconda told me being married to a man is the same as being married to a woman.

So this means either, she's right, it is the same - or that she married the wrong person twice.

I mean, a mistake feels like a mistake - right?

So there's that.

Either way it got me to thinking about it, does everyone end up in the same place, in the end are most marriages more the same than different?

Candidly I don't know that many happy married people, but I'm not sure that they were happy single people- so theres no real control group. And really, other people don't "make" us happy, yet I find other people can make me really miserable....

Thinking back at my life thus far I can't tell you when I was happiest.

I've been more tired than I am now, certainly much more intense, but happier...maybe. Recently I told someone I whose opinion I trusted that I thought 99% of the problems of my life could be solved with money.

"You think it would solve your problems but I won't," she said.

Although I do think that she may know what she is talking about I'm just not certain I believe her. I remain convinced money can solve problems, more specifically my problems, and in turn I would be happy...or at least that is how it works in my head.

But I do know that nothing is ever what you think it is going to be, for me things are rarely more terrible than I imagined, because I tend to be worse case scenario right off the bat, but there are those times things turn out to be really great just in a different way. ..and I like that the best- terrific in a way I had never planned...

I guess happiness is not a destination, but a process.

But I'll continue to play lotto...

My guts

There is a commercial for a digestive yogurt product featuring a what appears be a puppet of a stomach/ upper and lower intestines.

He (or she) looks friendly as it has eyes close to what appears to be the esophagus. So in this ad there is the digestive system replica and a woman who seems to be the owner.

She wakes up with him (or her) they roll out of bed together, ride horses, blow bubbles, objectively it looks like they are having a pretty good time. Although I can't be certain of the name of the actual product, it may start with a G or a F, the point of the commerical is to make friends with your gut.

I guess its sort of funny, but it got me to thinking, maybe she and her gut are more than just friends, I don't know - it just seemed like there was some sort of chemistry between them. I'm not saying the relationship seemed sexual per se, I'm just saying they seemed really very close- and I just don't have that kind of relationship with any part of my body.

Maybe my hands because I see them a lot, but certainly nothing internally I don't even feel that connected to my own toes or feet.

So I have considered the possibility I'm not so close to my body because I don't take good enough care of it.

I used to think a lot about working out and eating right, but I've pretty much given up on all of that at this point. I know, I have young children and I need to do everything in my power to stay healthy for them, but I think I am.

My paternal Grandfather worked in as a auto mechanic his entire life. He was exposed to asbestos, smoke cigarettes, ate vegetables rarely, ate organic anything never and he lived to be 87.

My Great Grandfather lived to be 109 and I watched him fry eggs in bacon fat, (in a cast iron skillet filled with carcinogens), and eat the entire mess on a piece of wonder white bread.

I'm just not convinced that other than gaining a ton of weight, I'm not going to really do anything that will decrease or increase my life span for more than 5 months, so it's just not worth it.

So I take no interest in getting to know my gut, my spleen, or even my liver more than I already do, in fact I would really prefer my entire GI tract keep to itself.

Edward and Wallis

In December of 1936 months into his rein as the King of England Edward VIII caused a constitutional crisis in Great Britain when he proposed marriage to the twice divorced American socialite Wallis Simpson.

Since the marriage was opposed by the Church of England, and the population could never accept a woman with two living ex-husbands as the Queen of England, Edward abdicated the throne.

So in order to marry the woman he loved he changed the course of history and gave up being the King of England.

Admittedly, he still was a Duke and lived the rest of his life in absolute leisure. He married Wallis Simpson within a year after giving up the crown and they lived together until his death 35 years later.

According to what I have read Edward fell in love with Wallis due to her domineering manner and abrasive irreverence toward his position.

Wallis didn't really give a shit he was the King and he dug it.

In the words of his official biographer, he became "slavishly dependent" on her.

Slavishly dependent. Like a slave...

And so the King became a Duke, and George IV, Edward's younger brother became the King, and after his death George's daughter Elizabeth II became of the reigning monarch.

Elizabeth's father George VI was not suppose to be the King, so because of this twist of fate she became a Queen she was not born in line to be.

So Elizabeth's first son is named Charles and although unfortunate looking is heir apparent to be the King of England and with this in his pocket he is able to get a stunningly beautiful woman named Diana Spencer to marry him...and they have this amazing wedding that the entire world literally stops to watch...and so fast forward a few years...and she finds herself in a speeding car in a tunnel in Paris with photographers chasing her and a drunk chauffeur...

Thus, Edward's abdication may have proximately resulted in Lady Diana's death...yet I'm able to put that tragic event aside for the obvious reason- is there a bigger move?

Really?

Giving up being a King for love.

Although I'm certain being royalty has its draw backs, Edward wasn't going to be beheaded, or even over thrown- sure there's responsibility involved, but from my angle, if there is not any bloody coup on the horizon, being the King of anything seems like it would be pretty cool.

Yet I think in the end Edward had no choice- his life must have felt unimaginable without Wallis Simpson, for whatever reasons she simply held his heart.

A love slavishly dependent.