Friday, May 21, 2010

It's too soon to tell.


But I'm fairly certain Steven is falling in love with me. I'm not surprised; it's not unexpected. I'm simultaneously excited, nervous, scared, worried, hopeful. This is not a normal love affair. Steven in is a maximum-security prison, doing time for rape, assault, and robbery -- all crimes he says he didn't commit. I've never met Steven in person. I've never even heard the audible sound of his voice. I met him through a prisoner pen pal site. I've been so lonely since Azim's death, incarcerated in my own prison of loneliness, isolation and madness. I've had several servicemen for pen pals, but post 9/11 my several attempts at getting a pen pal in Iraq or Afghanistan have been thwarted -- I've reached out several times, only to come back empty-handed.
There are several reasons to reach out to a prisoner. The United States has incarcerated more than 2.5 million individuals, about 3/2% of the population, compared to 500,000 less than 20 years ago. Many individuals are doing time for crimes they did not commit -- as evidenced by the number of cases being set aside as DNA routinely proves the innocence of the condemned. Many prisoners sit in cells year after year, completely cut off from the outside world -- no friends or family keep in touch with them. The effect on their psyche only makes them less prepared to successfully re-enter society once they are released from prison. Rates of recidivism are lowered when a prisoner has a friend on the outside to communicate with. I felt compelled to be a friend and to give someone hope for the future, to be non-judgmental and supportive, and to encourage them to pursue their hopes, dreams and goals. This is how I met Steven.
My criterion was simple. First, I wanted to write to a male. Second, he had to be white (80% of the incarcerated are black or Mexican); anyway, I'm not a racist, but I felt I would have more in common with someone of my own race. Third, he could not be on death row. Fourth, he could not have committed murder. Fifth, he should be relatively close to me in age, again so we would have more in common. Finally, he could not look like Charles Manson. My pool was quite narrow because of my guidelines. In the end, I had basically one choice -- Steven -- and I took him.
From the first letter we clicked, not just a little, but a lot. My first letter went out on March 2nd; I didn't receive a reply until March 20th. Since then, we've been writing long letters back and forth, now almost daily. We've even become psychic. I write a question or comment, take my letter to the post office and find the one I've just received already has the answer, and vice versa. These psychic occurrences occur within a day of two of each other, but since it takes 3-5 days for our letters to be delivered, it had to be psychic.
Steven has begun to make hints at his feelings. He's told his mother about me. He tells me how special I am to him. He hints at the future (it will be four years before he is released -- and that's a "maybe" -- his sentence is 25-35 years).
On the other hand,

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