Tucker #17: I'm Moving On.

Nothing about the Tucker Saga came easily. Nothing was as simple as a black and white explanation, and nothing made perfect, logical sense from the beginning. Nothing about this story was normal, nothing was clear, nothing was plainly right or wrong. I was caught in this catch twenty two between chasing this "what-if" and believing that this was part of some grander plan...and accepting the reality that this man was unavailable, unattainable, and this was the end of the road. Clearly, stepping away is not my forte - but can you blame me? Thus far, in this story, everything that happened had lead to something else. There was always a next step, another twist in the story, something else to pursue. I found it hard to believe that this was the end...that after all of this, it really was for nothing.



The weeks went by. I didn't stop talking to Blake. I still haven't, in fact. There's a part of me that still wonders, and probably will always wonder, what would have happened, had I solved this mystery only two weeks sooner - before he'd proposed to his girlfriend. Would one of us hopped a plane, bound for either the far north or the deep south, throwing caution to the wind and letting chance and fate take over? Would things have fizzled out anyway, and we'd go about our separate ways, forgetting this whole debacle ever happened? Maybe we'd have handled things the same way we did in reality - becoming great friends, close friends, but nothing more. I have a terrible habit of constantly chasing the could have beens, and what ifs, and forgetting that the reality of our situation had already played out - there was no place for hypotheticals and questions anymore.




The weeks that I spent talking to Blake daily, were wonderful. I learned everything I could about him. He told me about his family, his friends, his life in Georgia. I learned about his past relationships - the great loves and the painful heartbreaks. He told me story after story of hilarious loves-gone-wrong, and we bonded over our shared tendencies to find ourselves mixed up in the strangest of situations. We spent endless hours laughing over the ridiculous stories of crazy exes, clingy significant others, and those moments where you discover the person you're dating is certifiably batshit crazy. We spent those weeks learning about each other, swapping stories and offering each other a listening ear when we needed it. In between marveling about the details of our own, shared drama with the Tucker story, enlightening each other with tales of our individual dating histories, and one upping each other with accounts of the stupid things we've done for "love", Blake and I formed a friendship. While we were busy laughing at each other, and ourselves, and questioning why neither of us has ever written a book on our hilarious escapades in the dating arena, we forged a bond that I will cherish forever.




My friends questioned me regularly about the nature of my relationship with Blake. Was I going to fly to Georgia, show up at his wedding in a grand, Julia Roberts movie-esque fashion and proclaim my undying love, only to have my best friend hand me a white dress and take his fiance's place at the alter? Absolutely not. I'm not a homewrecker, first of all, and more importantly, I don't think that was ever the point of our conversations. Did I ever think about that possibility? Of course I did. Did I ever daydream about the day that this perfect southern stranger would tell me he loved me, that he left he fiancee, and that he was on his way to the mitten to whisk me away to marry him in the sunset? Sure. What girl wouldn't? In the first few days of talking with Blake, I thought a lot about those things. I was still the haze of confusion following the Tucker story, and as I've mentioned before, I was torn between what was right, and what was destined to happen.





It didn't take long to realize the reality of our situation, and instead, embrace it for what it was. Blake could have never responded to my Facebook message. He could have taken note of the details, confronted Hannah on his own, and never even acknowledge that he read my e-mail. He could have simply thanked me for the information, and never speak to me again. He could have been upset about the blog, and begged me to stop writing (which I would have ignored, but you know, it could have happened). Instead, he was understanding, thankful, and lighthearted about our situation. He was apologetic to me - expressing how sorry he was that this happened, and was genuinely concerned that I was okay after the whole ordeal was over. He became a great friend - someone I could talk to about the Tucker saga without worrying that he was annoyed, or judgmental, or angry.




In my desperate attempt to rationalize my connection with Blake, I overlooked a very important aspect of our relationship. Prior to my extensive conversations with Blake, I hadn't had the closure I so desperately craved from this situation. I wasn't okay with the ending - I wasn't ready to move on from it and I wasn't satisfied with the answers and explanations (or lack thereof) that I'd received. Before we'd began our journey from strangers to friends, I still had a void left by Tucker/Hannah that remained unfilled, and I didn't know how to remedy the situation. Talking to Blake gave me an outlet. He made me feel less awkward about the situation. He made me feel less embarrassed, less completely idiotic for falling for Tucker. The more I got to know him, the more I realized that the person I fell for was real. I didn't fall for Hannah - she wasn't acting as herself when I was talking to her. The more I knew Blake, the more I realized just how much of him she had emulated. The more I knew about him, the less I felt like I'd fallen for a girl, and the less traumatized I felt by the situation. The more I knew Blake, the more I knew I wasn't totally losing it - the more I realized she had crafted this persona right down to the smallest of details, and I felt more and more at ease about my role in the whole thing. The more I knew Blake, the less I cared about Hannah. The less I felt the urge to be vengeful and angry. The less I wanted to make her pay for what I did, to counteract the shame and discomfort about feeling like I had fallen in love with a woman.




This whole time, I'd been grasping at straws, trying to rationalize the relationship between Blake and I, in terms of some divine intervention. I was trying, so hard, to believe that the reason we'd met was because we were supposed to be together. I ignored the pieces of our puzzle that made it uncomfortable -- the distance, the fact that I barely knew him, and the small detail of that girl who's wearing his rock on her finger. I ignored all of it, because there HAD to be a reason we found each other, and despite my better judgment, I was certain that reason involved a Georgian plantation house, an ivory lace dress, and men in grey linen JCrew suits dancing to a live band in the yard. What I didn't stop to think of, what that maybe there was, in fact, a very important reason I met Blake. That reason, however, wasn't because we were two souls, destined for forever, who missed each other in some strange case of bad timing and parallel universes. That wasn't the reason at all. Not even close.




Talking to Blake was healing. It was therapeutic, for both of us. I'd talked to William, and to Megan, extensively about the situation - I never felt, though, that they understood where I was coming from exactly. Blake's involvement was, of course, very different than my own - but throughout our conversations, I discovered he was just as troubled as I was. In a strange sort of way, he had been in false relationships too. He didn't know it, but he was dating strangers around the country as well. Our relationship grew, because we listened to each other. We talked through the situation time and again, because we experienced the same flip-flopping emotions of anger, confusion, fear and sadness. Without having each other to vent, to unload, and to ultimately laugh it off, we may have never been able to to come to terms with our situation and move forward. Without each other, we would probably still be fighting those feelings, instead of being able to smile about it and share it with our friends, for them to laugh at our expense and poke fun of our ridiculous misfortune. Without each other, we couldn't have come to the place we are now - ready to help Hannah, and encourage her to get well.




We haven't taken any further action against Hannah, at this point. While both of us, at one point or another, felt the urge to fight for some sort of punishment for the girl who manipulated us both so terribly, we both recognize the more pressing issue is a girl who needs to be helped. Blake is far more directly involved than I am, due to his friendships with members of Hannah's family. This, of course, presents a whole new challenge in terms of how to handle the situation. Imagine YOUR best friend's sibling was using your face and personality for years - how would you proceed? The situation was so delicate - so many people involved, so many relationships and friendships and connections - it was nearly impossible for us to come to a solution that made sense, and didn't harm any more people. I spoke with Hannah's sister, and explained everything. I've also talked to William's mother, and she knows the story as well. Blake has talked to Hannah's other sister and brother in law. The people close to her -- the people who can help -- are fully aware of the situation.




I've been asked time and time again why I never called the police, or got authorities involved. I'll be honest - I seriously considered it multiple times. Those thoughts, though, were born out of anger and frustration. When it comes down to it, I was lied to on the internet. While there may be a law against that somewhere, it's not a situation where I was endangered, or my financial or personal information was stolen with the intent to steal anything from me. While Blake and William have more of a case, perhaps, I had nothing. It wasn't worth my time and energy to create a lawsuit, particularly once I realized the reality behind Hannah's motives. What we were looking at wasn't a case of malicious intent, but a case of a lonely soul searching for someone to love her. What she needs is not a lawsuit, but someone to listen to her. She needs someone to talk to - a professional - that can help her sort through whatever issues are hurting her. What's important is that she heals, so she can move forward and stop hurting others in an effort to fill a void in her own heart.




I don't excuse Hannah's actions. I'm not defending her, or pretending it was even in the slightest bit acceptable for her to do what she did to me, to Megan, to William and Blake, and to the other girls she lied to along the way. I've been asked how I can forgive her, how I can let it go, and to that, I'll tell you it wasn't easy. The bottom line is, though, it's over. I didn't get physically harmed, I wasn't raped in an alley and chopped to bits, and I didn't have my bank account drained and identity stolen. Hannah was wrong. So very wrong on so many levels I can't even begin to explain them. What I learned, though, was that being angry about the situation got me nowhere. I needed to talk it out, to discuss it to death, to marvel over the intricacies and detail of it all. I needed to talk to William, Megan, and Blake to truly come to terms with it and move on. I needed to know why she did it, and to hear her say she was sorry.




Hannah's close family and friends know the truth. They are the people who love and care about her, and it's up to them, not the once-vengeful victims, to get her the help she needs. I speak for Blake and I both, when I say we truly hope she gets the assistance she so clearly, so desperately needs. Our part in the story, in relation to the "what now", is complete. We have done everything we can, and everything we should, without crossing boundaries and risking driving Hannah even further into the depths of whatever is bothering her so deeply. We can only hope that her family and friends take this as seriously as we have, and that they can see to it that their sister and friend gets well.




So, what now? What's the aftermath of all of this? It feels so strange to be nearly finished with all of this, after so many weeks and months of clawing for the truth and begging for answers. William seems to be getting along just fine, saving the world one Toys for Tots appearance at a time :) Megan is busy being a first grade teacher rockstar, molding the minds of Florida's youth and being, hands down, the funniest first grade teacher I've ever met. Blake is still engaged (I know, I know), and still as obnoxious and goofy as ever. Me? I'm not jumping on a plane to Georgia any time soon, though I wouldn't rule out a trip to Seattle in my somewhat near future...but more on that later.




Strangely enough, I feel like I owe Hannah a thank-you. Yes, I'm deranged. Why do I say that? Over the last few months, I've met some of the coolest sons of bitches on the planet. I will forever be bonded to a few above average individuals, because they shared in this unbelievable journey with me. I will be forever thankful to the real Tucker, for helping me find Hannah in the first place, and ya know, for fighting for our country and being the superbadass that he is. Someday when I venture to Florida, I'm crashing on Megan's couch and we'll probably drink margaritas and talk about that time we were friends with/in love with a chick. When Ellen finally reads all this and invites me to be on her show, I'll meet my long-lost best friend Blake, and we'll have a good laugh over the situation that created a lifelong friendship.




I've made new friends right here in Grand Rapids - people who have heard the story, and become hopelessly addicted to the better-than-Lifetime story unfolding on the internet. Without this, I never would have posted a status all those weeks ago, that warranted a comment, then a wall post, then a phone call, and a month later a rekindled connection from college that I never would have expected - this connection, in fact, from the person who insisted I start this blog in the first place...you can all thank him later. I've gotten numerous Facebook messages from friends and strangers alike, sharing their shockingly similar stories, which has been SUCH a blessing. When I began this blog, I was SO nervous to share the details of the story - so afraid of admitting to everyone that I was even on a dating website in the first place, let alone that I fell for someone who lied to me in quite the dramatic fashion. Hearing the stories of other "normal" people like me, who'd fallen prey to a smooth talker on the other side of a computer, has been such a great blessing. It's so good to know you're not alone - and I'm so glad that I've extended that relief to those of you who've shared your stories with me. I feel like we should have t-shirts...start a club...thoughts? Therapy sessions with vino and margs? Excellent.




It's been a wild, WILD ride. I've had a lot of crazy things happen to me, particularly related to my dating life, but this clearly takes the cake. At the end of the day, though, I look back and just laugh. I should have seen it coming. It's absolutely, 100% par for the course. My life WOULD work this way. This WOULD happen to me. Tucker WOULD be a girl, and I WOULD be the one to figure it out.




In fact, if you ask any of my good friends, they'll tell you the same thing. None of them are surprised. I mean, sure, the shock factor's there, because honestly who knew it was a broad? But, aside from that, none of them are in the least bit surprised that I was the one this happened to. I have a strange ability to attract the crazies.




Don't believe me?














Perhaps I should tell you about the time I dated three very closely related guys, within about three months of each other. All without knowing they were, in any way, connected.













Or, I'll tell you about the time I cried through my entire birthday party over a guy in an Affliction t-shirt, and tried to drown my goldfish in Captain Morgan.













Or, maybe the time I met the man of my dreams in Nashville...but found out he'd been bluffing about a few little details.














How about the time I met my best friend because she was....friends.....with my ex?














The time I was in the wedding of a guy I met online, had a crush on for years, and my parents are STILL pissed I didn't marry him?













Nobody was surprised about Tucker. My life is a series of unfortunate dating disasters, folks. Luckily, I've survived them all...and I think I'm finally ready to start spilling the beans.















Welcome to The Tucker Diaries...Chapter Two.