A couple weeks ago my husband were having a lazy night and
tuned into a Catfish marathon on MTV. While I watched the series of unfortunate
events unfold I found myself wondering how in the world these people can fall
for the bullshit that they’re being fed by the individuals who have been
scamming them. For a moment I allowed myself to judge the ever loving fuck out
of these people only to silently kick myself and remember that I, too, was a
sad sack who wanted to believe in the stories I was being fed.
The setting to this tale was much the same as anyone else
who’s experienced the allure of something even better than the real thing. I
was in a marriage that was failing in its first year. I had come to the
sickening realization that the man who said he loved me was really just in it
to get his green card. In his efforts to ensure he got what he needed, he’d
alienated me from every friend that I had up until I met him. My only escape
from him was to spend my time on the internet and communicate with the outside
world through MySpace and Vampire Freaks. For some reason my socially anxious
self was able to accept this as I was never really that outwardly social anyway.
Yeah, even as a performer. But we all have our contradictions right?
So one night in December of 2004 I was on Vampire Freaks and
I came across this person who lived in Massachusetts. His profile said he was
around 27 years of age and he was into a lot of the same bands I was and had
very similar interests. I reached out and thus began 5 years of the biggest pack of lies
anyone ever told me. At first it was innocent enough. We would spend a fair
amount of time chatting about nothing and everything. Over time it came to be
the one thing I looked forward to each day when I got home from work while my
husband at the time was working at a hotel and getting friendly with the front
desk girls and the cleaning girls and, basically, ALL the girls. While he
was doing his thing, I was home lamenting my situation with a person I came to
know as Morgan from Mansfield.
Soon our chat sessions became near constant and one night in
the summer of 2005 Morgan confessed he had feelings for me. I had already
realized some time back that I had the same feelings but I was waiting for him
to say it so I wouldn’t have to feel like I was the one being unfaithful to my
then-husband. Even though the truth of the matter is that I was by simply
having an emotional affair with another individual. But in my mind at that
time, I felt like it wasn’t truly cheating because I had never met this person.
Even up to this point I hadn’t even spoken to him on the phone so obviously
there was enough distance between us to keep it honest right? I can tell you
now that it was absolutely wrong no matter how I tried to justify it. Later I
learned that the ex had been sleeping around on me and other worse things but that’s
not what this story is about.
By the end of that summer, 2005 by that point, I was given
an ultimatum from my ex. I was to move with him back to New York where his
father was waiting for us after having thrown us out over a year ago for
marrying against his wishes. I had no where to go so I reached out to Morgan to
ask if he could help. He said he would…. But he was going to Europe so he would
not be available. By this point he had admitted that he was a model and he had
to travel a lot so meeting was out of the question. I know you’re smirking to
yourself now knowing exactly where this is going but it gets so much better and
more embarrassing for me.
So I head back to New York under the order of my ex and we
set up shop in the home where I worked on music and drank…. A lot. I also spent
a lot of my ex’s money since he was never home while he worked on construction projects. That part was nice if I’m to be
honest. Since he worked long hours I continued my internet relationship with
Morgan while he traveled. Soon things with the marriage became extremely
explosive with trips to the hospital for violent fights, drinking binges that
turned into alcohol poisoning, and constant screaming and fighting. The ex threatened
to throw me out on my ass. I threatened to go to immigration and fall on my
sword telling them that I lied and it was a scam marriage. He came back and
said he would sleep with someone else. I came back and said I would leave and
go to Morgan. He followed through on his threat whereas I had no way of
following through on mine. Meanwhile, Morgan “watched” the story unfold from
afar offering platitudes and lots of “I would help if I could.” Soon he said, “Get
a passport and you can come here to England. I’ll fly you over.” So I did. He disappeared.
A month went by and I was still trapped in my personal hell.
I had been picked up by the NYPD for public intoxication and released after a
night in the drunk tank. One day I was online talking to a friend and my
instant messenger chimed with Morgan’s cricket tone. He had come back. He was
sorry. Could we possibly talk? Desperate for something good, I said of course
and the promise to go to England was put aside. I didn’t care. I had my drug
back. I had some place to escape while my ex went to New Jersey every weekend
to bang his middle aged, belly dancer mistress. Soon the mistress began to
taunt me non-stop and insist that I move out so that she could move in. I didn’t
relent because I still had my card to play with immigration if my ex tried to
put me out on my ass. By that point I had asked my mother for help, I was
prepared to leave and move to her home but she refused having told me
that I got myself into the mess I was in and I could get myself out.
Eventually it didn’t matter because the illusion my ex and I
were living in was set on fire when his father confessed to sending almost
everything in the family business’ bank account to his wife in Kiev. We were
going to lose the house we were living in and the business was on the verge of
collapse because of the mismanagement of the money. My ex and I made a deal
that we would jump ship and return to Massachusetts. By that point Morgan had
returned to Massachusetts so I was only too happy to go.
By the summer of 2006 I was in Fall River living in a one
bedroom apartment with a blow up mattress, some lawn chairs for seats, little
food, and a lot of alcohol. The ex would go out and work with the one car we
had and I worked from home. When my mother came for a visit she finally got to
see what I had become. There were alcohol bottles all over the place and there
was still no furniture. She insisted at that time that I leave my husband and
get sober… one way or the other. I accepted and returned with her. By that
point I had left so much in New York and now I was leaving more behind in Fall
River. It was just me, a bag of clothes, some books and CDs, my computer,
and my beloved cat Myron. Meanwhile, Morgan witnessed this all from afar with
my nightly reports. He was so relieved when I had left my ex. He said to me, “Now
we can finally be together.”
Then the wait began. I got sober and I got a job in retail.
I started seeing friends but my entire life had become centered around when
Morgan would finally see me. Several times there were promises made that he
would be in town. So I waited. The day passed. Then one day I called out from
work only to be told that he had tried to stop by the store to see me. So I
stopped calling out just in case he might come by. I waited. Plans were made
for Halloween and I waited. Thanksgiving. Christmas. New Years. I waited and
waited and waited. Soon it had turned into 2008 and I was still waiting. By
this point I had stopped caring and I had started dating other people with the
hope that Morgan would become jealous. But still I waited. We talked but it was
tense and the fights became frequent. Finally, one night he tells me he’s been
hiding a huge secret. After much teeth pulling he admitted he wasn’t a model
and he was just “some guy.” He sent me the real picture and still I didn’t
care. To me it was the personality. I thought, “Okay so that’s all it was, we
can meet now.” Yes, he promised, we can meet now.
The winter of 2008 came and went and by April I finally had
a nice car and I had landed a great job with Lifeline, the “I’ve fallen and I
can’t get up” people. My first weekend off I was doing my homework and talking
to Morgan and I started to feel my chest hurting and my heart was racing. I
called for my mother and she came racing up the stairs and I had her feel my
pulse. Immediately she called an ambulance and before I knew it I was on a
stretcher and I was being attached to leads with my heart was hammering along at
190 bpm. I was put on an IV and injected with adenosine to chemically convert
my heart rate and it worked while I was rushed to the hospital. At the hospital
my heart rate skyrocketed again and I went unconscious. When I came to I was
told that I had been hit with the paddles and I had an arrhythmia that needed
to be monitored so I was admitted to the hospital. Morgan called me for the
first time that night and cried, begging me to be okay because he didn’t want
me to die. I was so happy that my heart began racing but this time it was all
emotion.
By May I was told I would need to have a heart procedure to
check the electrical conduction of my heart and have the bad pieces of my heart
ablated. I told Morgan and he said he would be there for me, he was going to
ride back from where was now staying in St. Louis. Three days before my
procedure he said he was heading out on his motorcycle. I waited. Two nights
before my procedure I got a message from Morgan’s brother, “Morgan’s been in an
accident. He has a spiral fracture in his right leg and a concussion. He’s in the
hospital.” In my panic my heart started racing and my chest hurt again. I
called all the hospitals I could map out on the route he could have taken from
St. Louis. No one had a Morgan Richards there. So I waited. Morgan called the
night before my procedure, he sounded weak, I heard the machines in the
background and the hospital sounds. He said he was ok. He wished he could be
with me. He felt like he let me down. I said it was okay. When I went in for
the procedure the next morning, with no sleep, I laid my head back on the table
in the OR and I kept thinking of him even while my heart began to race and I
blacked out. When I came to, I learned I had coded and I had clinically died
but I was going to be okay.
I recovered from the procedure and by the end of the summer
I had moved in with my friend, moved out of my friend’s house, and returned to
my mother’s. I lost my job at the Lifeline place and I was working various temp
jobs to make ends meet. Morgan was still recovering from his accident, now back
in St. Louis and had no idea when he would return. December came and I got a
call from my friend Ereka asking me to meet her at a show in Worcester. She
wanted me to see her and the band she was with so I could let her know if I was
interested in having her and their drummer, Shaun, play with my band Era
Nocturna when I performed to support my album “Lackluster” released that
October. Initially I said I wanted to stay home because I didn’t feel well (I
wanted to talk to Morgan) and Ereka bribed me with pizza and gas money. I spent
the day hanging out with Ereka, Potter, Connor, Chris, Jill, and Shaun. It was a break
from the digital world that I needed. The connection I felt with Ereka and
Shaun was something that I’ll never forget to this day. I went home that night
and I told Morgan that he had until the end of the year to step up or I was
ending everything. He said he would. So I waited.
At the end of December I met a guy who would eventually
become a two year relationship that sucked away whatever Morgan had left of me.
By April of 2009 I was between jobs and had no clue what I was going to do. I
enrolled in medical assisting school and the new ex and I continued to see one
another and when we weren’t together I was still talking with Morgan. Things
had changed at that point though. He knew I was with someone and, I guess that
maybe gave him the out he needed to finally tell me the truth. He said he
wanted to tell me something but he was afraid of how much I would hate him when
he told me what he had to say. I told him at that point there was nothing left
in me that would be surprised so the guessing game began. “Are you married?”
No. “Do you really live in Massachusetts?” Yes. “Are you gay?” No. “…..Are you
a woman?” ……… Yes. “Show me what you
look like.” She did. “You need to meet me. Come to the Lotus in (Medway?)
tomorrow.” She did.
The “man” I had loved for five years was a 40-something year
old blonde woman who stood no more than 5 feet 2 inches tall. She was
attractive in a peculiar way. She was quiet,
awkward, scared shitless, and her name was Cheryl. We spoke over the loud
karaoke music with my friends there as back up. In hindsight I think I had made
sure they were there for her protection rather than mine. I was so unsure of
what I would do when the time came that I saw her. But the thing is, when I saw
how small she was and how self-effacing she came across, I couldn’t find it in
myself to hate her. I simply wanted to know why.
 |
| Cheryl and Dae. Salem, MA 2009 |
Our friendship grew over the next year and by 2010 she came
to be my confidant and my closest friend. She was my refuge from my ex when he
became too abusive and she listened. She was always there. But still, I waited
for a reason that made sense when I asked her why she lied. Not just to me but
to others. There was never a reason she gave that made any sense. How she could
watch as my life crumbled around me and still carry on such a lie. How she
could tell me that “Morgan” had been in an accident just days before I was
going in for a heart procedure knowing that I was off the medication that would
prevent me from collapsing from another cardiac episode. How she could tell me
lie after lie after lie. I wanted to hate her but I couldn’t. Even if she
couldn’t explain any of it to me. She just said, “I don’t know why I did it. I
think I just hated myself and wanted to be somebody else.” For some reason I
was able to accept that… for the time being.
Eventually, my life imploded again but only because I made
it happen. Shaun, from the show in Worcester, returned after several years of
no contact on my part. He asked if I still needed a drummer and I told him I
did. Cheryl and I were trying to make Era Nocturna happen live. I was even
going to teach her the bass. My ex (still my boyfriend at the time) was going
to play guitar and we got another guy named Dorian to take over the synths on
his guitar. The first month of rehearsals were a disaster but I found myself looking
forward to seeing Shaun every week and our friendship grew. Soon I was talking
to him on the phone and texting daily while my ex was continuing to be an alpha
douchebag. The final straw came one night when I told him it was over and I
needed to go take some space. As I was packing up to go somewhere, anywhere
away from him he tried to take a swing at me when he blocked my way out the
door. I texted Shaun and he told me to come stay with him. So I drove away
trying to find some sense of safety again. Nothing made sense anymore. I’d lost
my compass by that point and I was heading toward the only place left now that
my own home wasn’t safe and Cheryl had begun to act extremely possessive even
though she maintained she was not gay.
When I returned from my weekend with Shaun I moved my things
out of my home and went to stay with a friend. The final night I saw Cheryl was
when I went to her place to have dinner and her boyfriend (now husband) began
talking about the motorcycle accident he’d been in. He brought down the x-rays
and I saw a spiral fracture in his right leg. My throat go tight as I relived
the pain of the night I heard about the accident, the panic, the desperate
search for answers. I heard the phone call in my head again. The sounds of the
hospital. The weak voice. My gut ached from the realization of how twisted the
whole story had been. Then I looked at her boyfriend and I asked him, “This was
you? In the accident?” He appeared confused and he said, “Yeah. In 2008.” I got
up and told Cheryl I had to leave and returned to my friend’s home and I replayed
the last five years in my head. I realized the forgiveness I felt toward Cheryl
was just denial but her boyfriend’s x-rays snapped me back into the fucked up
reality that I had been lied to by a woman who had used a voice changer to talk
to me on the phone and had gone to the trouble to use sound effects to make it
sound like she was in a hospital. It was all one big fucking lie and it had
smashed me in the face like a cannon ball. I was done.
I stopped talking to Cheryl, stopped returning her texts,
dodged emails and messages on Facebook. She insisted that I come see her so she
could explain. There was nothing to explain. But she continued to insist.
Finally I answered and I told her no. She snapped at that point and turned
everything around on me. I was a terrible person for turning my back on her.
She thought I cared. How could I promise that we would be best friends forever
only to abandon her for Shaun. She hated me. On and on she went. I tried so
hard not unleash on her but everything I had wanted to say came flying out all
at once and I ended with telling her I wished she was dead. I meant it too.
We had maybe one or two e-mail exchanges afterward but they
were nothing short of brutal. I was unwilling to forgive her and she was
unwilling to give me an answer that made sense. I think even if she tried, it
still wouldn’t have made sense. Nothing made sense. But I came to be okay with
that. She was the one who had to live with what she did. I moved on.
Epilogue
I moved in with Shaun in April of 2011. We performed live
with Era Nocturna throughout 2011 and 2012. Dorian appeared with us on guitars
for several shows and Ereka was our first bassist. Dorian, Ereka and I are all
still friends.
Cheryl had more than one “victim” in her charade. One by the
name of Dellena who was strung along for quite some time by Cheryl’s “Morgan
the Model” character. Eventually Cheryl disconnected from Dellena with no
explanation. I gave her one. Another one of Cheryl’s marks was a wonderful
woman by the name of Helen. We are still friends to this day, even after our
incredibly contentious start. We have yet to meet but we plan to someday. I’m
100% certain she will not be a man.
Shaun and I married in 2013 and we both still make music but
we currently spend our time helping people with mental illness navigate their
way toward recovery.
Myron the cat passed away in May of 2015 at the age of 14. I like to think that he waited until I was happy to let go after having cancer for close to two years. After all, he saw me through all of this and was my secret keeper when I had no one else.
I don’t know what else happened after Cheryl got married and
I honestly don’t care.
I thank you for reading this. Please take this as a
cautionary tale to learn from. If someone is stringing you along online do your
research. Make them Skype with you. Make them verify themselves with a sign
with your name on it. Insist that you meet. If they give you shit about photos,
phone calls, anything… trust your gut and get out. Your life is a life that
must be lived. Don’t waste it on smoke and mirrors. You deserve more. Don’t
wait.
With love,
Dae
