Sgt. Michael T. Sutcliffe

LETTING GO:
Long before I met my current husband, I was briefly engaged to be married to a Green Beret. He was tall, dark, handsome. He was strong, sensitive, sensual. He knew what I needed long before I did. He was protective, but never placed a leash and collar on me. He was well aware that I had a mind of my own, and he never (not once) spoke for me.

He respected my need to remain independent. He was proud of the fact that I was a single mom working 40 hours a week and juggling my dollars and cents. When he was away on duty he would call me in the middle of the night. I was warm in my 2-bedroom apartment, he was in another country under the stars, and we spoke like lovers that were in the same room together. Many times there would be a knock at my door and red roses would be delivered. I had no doubt that this man loved me and knew what was best for me. We had a connection.

His saying was, "Only time will tell." I bought him a guitar never guessing the man could sing... although he did look a lot like Randy Travis. He accepted my past and never held it against me.

I allowed distance to destroy this relationship. I allowed my selfish ways to step between us. I had a relationship with a cocaine sniffing telephone repairman and I thought I was in love. It was only lust.

One night the Green Beret called and asked me one simple question. What he said was this: "Do you want me to fight for you?" Without hesitation, without a second thought, without a brain in my head, I said no.

I have regretted that answer for over 23 years. My life may have been very different. I could now be living in Fayetteville, N.C. or Lake Isabella, CA. Maybe I would have remained in Bakersfield. I will never know how the story would have ended.

I think of the Green Beret often and remember the first real conversation we had. His remark to me was direct and from his heart. I could tell in his eyes that he was speaking the truth: "Sandi, you want to love and win." And he was so very right. And I was so very wrong.

Please forgive me.