Four days later... All I know right now is the tears won't stop, the pain is the worst I've ever felt, and there is a hole in my heart that can never be filled in this lifetime. Eating and sleeping is a struggle (such as taking 6 1/2 hours to eat a salad and some potatoes), and my eyes are bloodshot and sore from crying almost nonstop.

How do you put into words the pain, the grief, the heartbreak of such a tragedy?

Some of you know the backstory. Some of you had never heard of Ingrid until the last few days. She was someone I met on Second Life, and became deeply involved with.

We met when she literally dropped in on my head one day. January 28, 2008. I decided to take my newbie money tree picking money and finally treat myself to some ballet boots. I teleported into a store, and three seconds later she teleported right on top of me.

Normally, I'd be irked by something like that - the perceived lack of manners, the violation of my space. But something told me "No, not her." So I looked up and said "Hi up there. These are some lovely boots, aren't they?"

The rest was history.

We spent the day looking around, talking and shopping. Up to that point, I'd have done a little talking with some people, but usually about specific things related to SL. But, with her, talking came easy. I knew from the get-go I liked her, though it took a while to understand how much.

Over the following days and weeks, we'd talk more, and meet up on occasion. All I knew was I enjoyed her company very much, and would always be happy to see her online.

That all began to change on February 20. She IM'd me that evening and asked if I could come over. I said sure, I'd be there in a couple of minutes. I came over, and she immediately wanted to dance and talk, which was fine with me. She then told me it was her birthday, and she wanted to celebrate it with someone. I sat there and wondered why someone so wonderful would have to call upon little ol' me for birthday company - why didn't she have people lined up for miles wanting to share it with her? Needless to say, I was shocked she was lonely on her special day.

I wished her a happy birthday, then asked "So how many special days is this for you?". Her answered shocked me - not because of superficial, judgemental reasons, but because I would've never guessed.

"I'm 55 today. I was born in 1953."

It made no difference to me at all. As anyone who knows me knows, I do not practice racism, sexism, ageism, or any other form of bigotry. I've always liked being with older people anyway. I relate better to them. And despite the fact my ID states I am 33, I am 33 going on 60. I know more about, and relate more, to times like the 60's and 70's than I do current times.

At that point, we began to talk about getting more involved, about maybe finding a place together for more privacy. Eventually, we looked around and found one, and began spending a lot of time there together.

It was during that time that two big changes came along.

The first was I would log onto SL, and instead of being happy to see Ingrid online, I began to feel unhappy when she wasn't, thinking "Where is she? I miss her."

The second was the development of our relationship. She considered herself to be dominant, where I (at least at that time) considered myself more submissive than anything. And that was how we thought the relationship would develop - more as a D/s relationship than anything.

That changed when she said one day "I'm tired of waiting. Commit yourself, or you need to go." So, we talked about how things would be. She admitted she would be worse on me than anyone else, she'd fuck me up, she'd hurt me. And I admitted I was scared, and didn't want to be put there. She surprised me by replying that she didn't want to hurt me, either. That she cared about me too much to do that to me. I admitted I loved her, and I wanted to make her happy.

At that point, we decided to drop the D/s stuff between us and have an equal relationship. That we would bring in others for her to dominate for the times she felt she needed to do that.

For the most part, outside of our bumpy patch of a few weeks over a major issue (which was resolved, fortunately), things went pretty smoothly. At times, her insecurity would come through. That I was young and had my whole life ahead of me and needed to find someone my own age. That she doesn't look like her avatar. That she was nothing but a "cranky old woman" and I deserved better.

And I'd answer give her the same answers to these. That we never know how much time we have, and that something could happen to me tomorrow and I'd be gone. That I don't look like my avatar either, and I was in love with the person behind the avatar - mentally, emotionally and spiritually. And that she may have at times been a "cranky old woman" to others, she never was to me.

I always worked to keep us together, because I loved her very much. Being with her made me happy, always. It didn't matter whether it was dancing, or going shopping for rugs, or... With her by my side, I was happy. No matter where.

Except, of course, for the rough patch. This isn't the place to go into detail over what happened, but something happened that rattled her trust in me. And after all she had gone through in her life, she was frightened over it very much.

Despite that, during that rough patch, I ended up getting a taste of how truly beautiful and sensetive she was, and how much she did truly care about me. After a very rough night, she demanded my telephone number because she wanted to call me right that second. I did, despite the fact I sat here crying my eyes out.

The first time I talked to her, her voice sounded harsh - from exhaustion, from being upset, I don't know. But I fell in love with how she mispronounced my name as "Dee-bore-uh" (and not "Deb-ore-uh"). She also kept trying to get me to stop crying - first by asking me "no crying, please", then chastising me for being a "crybaby", then finally admitting "I'm a crybaby, too. And you're going to make me cry."

The rough spell went on until June 27, when I told her I was leaving, that this was tearing me apart, that I loved her and knowing she was looking for someone new was killing me.

I laid all the cards on the table - about me, about how I felt, about how much she meant to me, about how what she looks like doesn't matter because to me she is pure beauty, about how happy she makes me when she's with me, about how all I ever wanted was to touch her soul, to love her and be loved in return.

We patched it all up as a result. She wanted no more drama out of me, and wanted the total truth at all times. And she got both for the rest of our time together.

Fittingly, right after that talk, "Head Over Feet" by Alanis Morissette came on the radio streaming into the house. And she said "Listen to this song. For you, baby". And, listening to it, I knew exactly what she was referring to:

You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault

And, that time was pure bliss. The dancing. The talking voice on Skype. The sharing of everything. We finally went to get those pictures taken of us that we'd talked about (see above). We had two taken. The one above went into my profile, with the caption "Madonna and her Beautiful Goddess.". The one of us sitting in a red living room went into hers, as "Mistress and her Little Angel".

I fell totally in love with her voice, as she had with mine. At times, she was worried I was bored, because conversations would often be her talking and me listening. I would always tell her "I love listening to your voice. It's why I'm so quiet. I just want to sit there and hear you talk.". She'd say "I love your voice, and you need to talk more so I can hear it."

She'd talk of how much she loved me and how giving I was, which it took me forever to understand. What did she mean? She was the one giving me Linden dollars to buy clothes (and always teasing me to wear something different so people "don't think I don't buy you anything"), she was the one making sure I had what I needed, she was the one dedicating songs to "my baby Madonna".

And, of course, it was she who took my hand and helped me find the strength and the way to let go of my mother after twenty years... She did what nobody else could, what I thought could never happen. But she did.

But, I did figure it out. The "giving" was my unconditional love, my moral support, being there for her, and being the happy peacemaker during those times she'd go off on someone and get herself into trouble. I gave her something far more important than dresses and boots and virtual houses.

I had given her me.

"I couldn't help it. It's all her fault."

After a life of pain and heartbreak and betrayal, she had finally found me. And I had finally found her.

But I knew she was also very sick. Knowing that didn't change how I felt. Knowing that only made me want to love her more, to make every moment and every day be special. For us... For her.

Sometimes, she'd lower her guard, and admit she was doing poorly, and even sometimes talk of how she wanted to die - that she was tired of pain and sickness and tears. I'd let her say as much as she felt she could say, then tell her I love her, and I'm here for her. Then when I knew she wanted to change the subject, I'd try to cheer her up.

During her good days, she'd talk about how much she loved me and how someday she would get better and we'd meet.

During the bad days, she'd express her fears and tell me "I love you baby. But this world is not for us." I always knew what she meant when she said that - that she didn't think this world was for her. I'd always hope she would be wrong.

July 22. We talked on Skype and SL for about an hour. She had been gone since the 10th, not feeling well. She felt worse because I spent 12 days scared and worried, and she knew it. I teased her about not eating often enough - saying if she ever tells me she goes without eating again, I'm coming to feed her. And since I don't drive, it's a long way from California to Florida.

We talked, and joked a bit longer. She wanted to know how everything went with Ted and Angelic's real life meeting (we, at that point, had all been nervous to ask them. I promised her I would ask - and did the next day - and let her know). Then she said "Sweetie, I'm tired. I need to rest. I will try to be on tomorrow if I feel okay."

July 23... July 24... July 25... I'm now starting to worry a little, especially after she promised never to leave me waiting and worrying again.

Tomorrow is now a week. Then two. I'm in an all-out panic. I'm antisocial on SL. Ted and Angelic (owners of our favorite club, Midnight Romance) are IM'ing, saying they miss me and to come by and hopefully everything is okay.

Everytime a pop-up came up on SL, notifying me of a login, I'd hold my breath expecting to see the name Ingrid Daehlie. I'd check Skype constantly, and see she still hadn't been on since just after 10:00 pm on July 22.

Mutual friends were asking me if I have seen her, if she's okay, and to let them know anything.

I'd call the house, 1-2 times a day, hoping for her to answer. I'd get the machine, over and over again.

Then the signs started coming. She disappeared out of all her groups and off the search, even though her profile and account were there (I asked around, and found out "Yes, that's what happens when a person is on a premium account and doesn't pay"). Her phone line went busy for two days.

Then, Thursday night. Doing a Google search, I stumble across an ad for a 2 bed, 1 bath condo just outside of Miami, FL. HER condo. Why is her condo for sale, unless....

Now I'm assuming the worst.

About 4:00 pm Friday, I dial her number again. Ring. Ring. Ri... Someone picked up. And out of anxiety and nervousness, I cry into the phone "Ingrid, dear?!" before the other person can even respond.

Instead, a strange voice answers... "No, I'm not Ingrid. Who is this?" I tell her. "Are you from New Mexico?" No, California. "Ohhh..." She pauses.

"Sweetie, Ingrid died about a week ago. She was really sick for a long time. She was suffering so much. We're relieved she isn't hurting anymore."

I don't know how I made it through the rest of that brief conversation (the person who answered was her daughter's friend) without totally losing it. I choked back tears and my voice cracked.

Ingrid (as I found out through her daughter) was found by her daughter in her condo, very ill, sometime during the first week of August. They "cleaned her up" and got her to a hospital. Despite being mentally and emotionally strong, she was slipping and getting worse.

I would've given anything to make her better. I wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to be healthy. I would've taken her sickness if I had to. I would've died in her place if I could have.

She is beautiful and amazing and wonderful. I'm just me. I'm not going to ask "Why me?". I'm going to ask "Why her?". Why take her? Why couldn't they take me and let her be?

After I got off the phone with her, I logged onto SL. Less than seven months after my own heaven on Earth began, I was instead coming as the bearer of the worst news I'd ever heard in my life.

The first person I broke the news to was my SL "sister". When I had logged off that morning to try to get some rest, I was still on her land. She was right there when I logged back on. She had hugged me, knowing I was sad and worried.. And then I said it.

"She's gone, Sis. Ingrid's gone. She passed on about a week ago."

I let some of our other friends know. I was met with a lot of grief and shock. And while my heart was already broken, the intense sobbing and pain didn't come for a couple of hours.

That would come when I dragged myself over to Midnight, to break the news to Ted and Angelic. At the time, Ted was on alone (Ang had to work and would be on later). I had to do it, because she loved that place and loved the people - and they loved her. And I needed to be around people who knew and loved her.

I started off with a bit of small-talk with Ted. Then brought up how it was either serendipity or sick irony that I would have to tell him just before Latino Heat (she was half-Italian, half-Spanish, born in Puerto Rico, and absolutely loved Spanish music). He at first misunderstood when I said that, thinking I was just bringing up tonight's event.

I then started crying as I got to the point.

Me: Ted. You.. You'd said before that when we're here, we're family...
Ted: Of course. You all are. We love all of you.
Me: Ted... It breaks my heart to tell you I just found out there's been a loss in the family
Ted: Ingrid? Oh, dear.. Oh no. I'm so sorry, sweetie.
Me: Yeah. She passed on about a week ago. She's gone. :( I felt you should know. She loved you and Ang, and she loved this place.
Ted: And we all love her. And you. Ang is going to cry her eyes out when she finds out.

(And am even crying now, reliving this moment. As I do everytime I do.)

Ted was DJ'ing the event, and from the moment he went live, you could tell how affected he was. His voice, usually sounding like a good laugh is beneath the surface, was cracking and subdued. He mentioned some of the songs he was going to start with, and told everyone it was an emotional night.

He then came back on about 15 minutes later, to deliver the first of many tributes over the last four days (and there will be more to come, and I will share them all with you at some point), choking back tears as he did so:

"The next song is a very special dedication. Madonna wanted me to play 'Sta Passando Novembre' by Eros Ramazzotti, for her beloved Ingrid, who died about a week ago. This was her favorite song. Ingrid, sweetie, we all love you. And we love you, Madonna, and we're here for you."

The hugs and condolences started coming immediately. Even a mutual friend who used to DJ at the club - and who left under a cloud of bitterness - showed up with his girls to offer hugs and sympathy.

Ted would go on to play the song a few more times, each time mentioning the dedication, her passing, and his condolences. He has since vowed that from now on, when he DJ's, he will close out every event with the song and tribute to her.

I also put my name up on the contest board that night - not because I wanted to win, but I wanted her to win. So, I did, and said "Tonight, you are not voting for Madonna Milena. You are voting for our beloved Ingrid Daehlie, who isn't here anymore and can't go up on the board."

I did tie for the win, and when Ted announced the winners (sorry, I can't for the life of me think who else won on the women's board), said "And for the women... A tie. .. And... The lovely Ingrid, represented tonight by Madonna.", then repeated the news and cued up her song again.

There have also been plans to do a tribute night for her at the club. Not sure when yet. But I was asked for some pictures to use, and have offered some.

Redbeard did a tribute for her Friday night that I was too messed up to get to. He will do another one this Sunday night.

I did finally speak to her daughter Michelle on Saturday. She is holding herself better together than I thought. She is hurting, yes, but she is relieved her mother is no longer suffering. She has been very supportive and accomodating with me, very sympathetic and understanding, and has said despite the hurt and sadness, she will go on and live her life in her memory, making sure her wishes happen.

We have been in touch regularly since. Words cannot express how grateful I am to have her friendship. One cannot have too many friends at a time like this - especially when that friend is the living legacy of the person you love more than anyone or anything in the world.

There have been so many other tributes, a lot of support and love from friends - some of whom I never had until the other day.

I think of the poem Footprints, even though I am not religious (spirital, yes, but not religious). I think of the point the narrarator speaks of there only being one set of footprints when he struggled the most, and they were because God carried him.

Well, for me, for a few very special months, there were two sets of footprints. Sadly, from August 9 until the moment I got the news, there was only one. Since then, there have been dozens - if not hundreds. All made by the people who've lifted me and carried me during my time of need, my time of grief.

I don't know where I'd be without you...

At some point, as I said, I will share all the tributes, all the words, with all of you. It's hard enough working on this post now. And, of course, there will be more tributes to come.

And, lastly, my own tribute - one of many. Right now, the pain is so overwhelming it's crushing. Right now, the tears won't stop. But, someday, I will find a way to go on. I will find a way to live, and will do so until my time runs out. But, as I said earlier, I had given her me, and she still has me. Forever. My life will go on in her memory and honor, with a promise now to never do anything stupid to myself (because to do so would be disgraceful to her). I have decided for my own life to become a living legacy to my beautiful goddess.

I do it because I love her, and always will. More than anyone or anything in this world. More than this whole world. More than my own dreams.

From this day forward, any and all efforts to support causes will go to causes to help people with what she endured (hepatitis c, cancer, and charities that help women in need in general). And any and all future blogging for charity events will be known as the annual Memorial Ingrid Fullington Blogathon (or whichever event I am participating in).

Doing so is important to me. Because she was and always will be important to me. Forever.

I will do this until my time comes, when I will be together with her again, and they're issuing a death certificate saying my cause of death was a "broken heart". I hear religious people talk of how they can't wait "to go to heaven" and "be with God". I can't wait to go there and be with my beautiful goddess. I don't know if it'll be 60 minutes, or 60 years, or somewhere in between. But until that time comes, I will carry her flag, her torch and her spirit, I will love her and miss her, and I will grieve her, in my own way.

For seven months, I got a taste of heaven - sharing my life with the most wonderful, most amazing, most beautiful person to ever live, and who ever will live. A person who made my own dreams pale in comparison. A person who is in a class of her own, and always will be.

I love you, Ingrid. Now and forever. You are the most wonderful and amazing person I have ever met, and could hope to meet. It'll never be the same without you. While my heart is broken, and continues to break, I am so grateful for what we've shared - and will share, and glad you are not suffering anymore. Nobody deserves to suffer. Especially not you.

Wait for me. Please. Because I know I'd wait forever for you, if I had to, Beautiful Goddess.

Labels: Gone But Not Forgotten, My Beautiful Goddess