| Steven C. Wittebort |
Not to seem unbiased, but I love Steve. I have to very careful about what I say about him, because it could lead to serious trouble for him and me. Since I have written a story about Val Gross and put my brother and the Lee boys pictures in it, when you Goggle Steve, their picture appears with his. I haven't been through nine yeas of hell to allow that to go on. Yet, the real people in charge already know who the real drug dealers on the Pontiac Police are. My brother and his friends have already told them, and it's not Steve Wittebort. In fact, there is nothing they can do right about now to save themselves from obscurity. Back in 2002, when my brother took that long ride to Jackson and my charge was upped from "Stalking" to "Aggravated Stalking", there was far too many of them. When I say "them", I mean the filthy Pontiac Police. Steve would have been quickly arrested, bound over for trial by Waterman, Brown or Thomas and then shuffled in front of one of their Circuit Court Judges for a "speedy trial" and sent to prison.
My spending four (4) years in prison was truly an escape for him. Let me add that I knew all along that he wasn't serious about me stalking him. From the very beginning, I knew that my arrest, conviction and prison stay was all part of a game. I knew, because of all the strange things that began to happen to me. One of the weirdest being my car radio jumping from 100.3 WNIC to Mix 92.3 and Donell Jones' "You know that I Love You" playing on the radio, whenever I get in the car. That was the spookiest, and that began a long list of music montages that would saturate my life for the next nine years. The song goes, "You know that I love you, and that ain't gone change. Though you're not here with me now, my love for you stays the same...You know that I love you. Girl your everything to me." I literally thought I was loosing my mind. Today, I know that our Federal Government no only "combines the twin concepts of separation of power and checks and balances", but they have technology that exceeds your wildest imagination. That includes a camera so small it can't be detected in the tiny hole in your ceiling and so powerful that Steve can read what I write from his phone.
Our story, however began 32 years ago in the hall at Webster. I fell in love with him for the first time in the hallway. He has the prettiest green eyes I have ever seen in my life. Not the shape or the size, but the brilliant color. Now, I know a lot of you will begin to look into them, and that fine. There is nothing wrong with looking as long as you don't touch; Seriously. Steve beat me up on the playground a couple of days later (how fitting, because he is still beating me up). We got to high school, and I had matured in to this "super fine" young woman, who was untamed, but lovable. He carried the torch back then, but I had bigger fish to fry. After high school, I didn't see Steve until 1995, unlike Val who had tried to infiltrate my brother and nephews drug activities by then. Steve wasn't even a cop yet, but was looking to complete his training and seal the deal on his life. He had landed his dream job, bought a house and was looking to complete the picture with a wife and children; me!!! I was once again, wrapped into another jerk who wasn't Steve.
I had laughed at him, like the day at his open house in 1988. Who was this awkward, skinny little man, who wanted my attention? Then the day came when I was thrown into a dilemma by a co-worker at Sears the second time I went to work there. She asked me, "When are you going to get married and have some babies?" It was now 2001, and I was 31 years old. I told her, I have two men right now. One that I love (Mark) and the other who loves me (Batey). One of them is married and the other instead of buying me a house, bought a motorcycle. I'm waiting for the man who loves me, and who is not married or stupid." That was my last day at work for a while, because I was going to have toe surgery the next day. My mother had went out of town and I was home alone, watching The View when it happened. I saw Steve on the steps in back of the 50th District Courthouse. I looked at the television closely and said to myself, "That's Steve Wittebort." Then a smaller voice inside me said, "and he's made detective." That's when I looked at the ceiling and exclaimed, "Steve Wittebort loves me?" I was talking to God, and up until now, I haven't said that publicly. My aunt an ordained minister, told me to never tell a man of science the revelations and mysteries of God, because they do not have the insight to believe or understand. She has a Master's in nursing, but a understanding of God that is way stronger than any book she has ever read.
When I began to share with her the things that God would show me and tell me on a daily basis, she put that warning out to me. I listened, and I think that has served me well over the last nine (9) years. Most mentally ill people have a tendency to turn to God for enlightenment when the voices and things take over their minds. They become fanatics in their zeal to find an answer for their sickness. Other than that silent consciousness, I don't hear voices. Yet in Genesis, Rachel had a similar revelation when she saw Jacob coming towards her in the dunes. When she looked out she said to herself, "Who is this man who will be my husband?" She had never met Jacob, but when he met her he fell deeply in love. Like Steve and I, they had a very rocky beginning and they struggled a lot with outside interference, but in the end they are written in the genealogy of Jesus.
But I must say that it is that revelation, coupled with that first meeting at eight that keeps me alive. Sometimes, I think that Steve is using me for job recognition and he doesn't really love me like he says he does. I start to believe that I'm more of a detail for the police than a true partner and mate to him, but then I remember that day. The day, when I was just a little girl and fell in love with his eyes first. That feeling inside me that I have never had again with another man in the last 32 years. I saw him the other day when I was arrested, and that's the first place I set my eyes to see. Needless to say, I still had that feeling like I was eight again. That's the way he has reminded me on this long journey that we are meant to be. He sets his eyes on mine, and the rest of the world just fades away. I love him so much!
So how does a man keep a woman loving him so much for so long, without sex or roses or anything special in her day? Well, believe me it ain't easy and he can surely attest to that. There has been other women; of course. Although, I'm not allowed to have other men. In the beginning it was a pen and paper and the radio. A couple of years ago, my mother bought me a laptop. One day while writing a letter to my brother, the page began to scroll up by itself, and in small letters at the top of the page Steve wrote, "hi lesley". I erased the message and looked around to see if anyone was watching, and almost started crying. I thought I had finally gone crazy like everyone had said I was. But it was only Steve and now he lives in my computer. He's so overzealous when it comes to me and he just gets on my nerves. I go to playlist.com and he can run my playlist that we share through my computer. It's kinda the same thing as when an IT operator takes over your computer to help you fix it.
He implanted a Trojan that allows him to take over my computer if he wants, which is another way he gets on my nerves. Although I can't stand some of the songs on the playlist, I keep a large variety to understand how he is feeling from day-to-day. Some songs had to be deleted forever due to their content and the ability to start an argument, for example Flaws and All by Beyonce. He used that to pick fights the second pay of the month, because he wanted to hang out. That song by Hoobastank that starts, "I'm sorry that I hurt you, it's something I must live with everyday...I found a reason for me to change who I use to be...and the reason is you." I'm about to throw up typing it. So when I remind him of how he tricked me to his house to send me to prison, he has two other options to tell how he feels. One is Sorry by Buckcherry and the other is Lifehouse's I'll Do Whatever It Takes. That Hoobastank is just too damn whiny for me and gets on my nerves!
While in prison to stay in the psyche ward away from the bulldaggers, I took Depakote and my hair grew back differently, and when I started perming it when I got back home it fell out. Paul is going around claiming I'm a crazed stalker, but telling the drug dealers the truth so that I can be harassed. They follow me through the city anticipating me going to Steve's house, when I don't need to go to Steve's house. Steve is waiting for me right on my computer when I get home. Why would I need to see him and get into further trouble, when he's right here? I can't see him, but he can see me. Plus, the last time he tricked me, and he won't do that ever again. I am making no attempts to see or talk to him. They swear we exchange e-mails, because they wonder how I know what to do and where to go and stuff. Wouldn't you like to know, some things can't be disclosed. We might have to use them in the future.
It's funny, Steve and I had only one class together in high school and that was Investigative Paper. Another ironic twist in our story. I meet him in heavenly place and I make no apologies for my love, neither do I regret any of the choices that I was forced to make. This city is almost corruption-free. No matter what they say at this point, there is nothing they can do to us. All of the truly dirty people are either dead, been removed or have removed themselves. Some have turned on their ex-compadres and taken up shop elsewhere or are still here. Their oldest scheme that is Sears is about to take a huge tumble and the rest will soon be history.
So that's the truth about Steve. He's my victim, my fiancée and virtual lover. I was thinking we had to get married immediately to escape his prosecution, but there isn't enough of them left for that to be an issue, and so I can have my wedding. They are going around asking people what I said, but that is futile, because you can't stop people from saying the things they want. A Protection Order can't stop people from talking about you, just slandering you, and getting married to me ain't that bad; is it? Believe me, Steve don't think so, and would be pretty peed if you answered that question. Love you, too, Baby. He just played Jim Croce's I'll Have to Say I Love You in A Song. He knows I'm mad about being alone for Christmas. Let me end this cause he's on Lost in Love by Air Supply. I gotta go convince him I'm not leaving him; again! LOL
*I've posted the playlist to my profile page*
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