updated Tuesday, January 29, 2013
No, this site stays up (incomplete as it is), so that no one else needs to ever fall into the mess. These people, so-called Christians, left me to die, after I was convinced (after much effort) to transition everything and move to Nashville, then left, literally, to die when I miscarried our child and became deathly ill, allergic to all the prescribed painkillers. I spent three days in a coma, could barely walk, spent so much time in hospitals, spent a year on friends’ couches, am STILL in rehab from the torn ligaments in my lumbar region, from what Russ did. I lost everything, and am supposed to just let it happen to another without warning? I'm still not strong enough to go to the lawyer in Nashville and sue. Yes, there’s grounds for intentional infliction of emotional distress — that’s what the lawyer who reviewed the facts said. I simply can’t manage it. No. It isn't over in my world. I still deal with trying to be strong enough to walk, run, work steadily, recreate a home and a life, not to mention the severe issues created. I lost a baby, had to cope with it alone. I came down with a life-threatening illness, was allergic to all the prescribed medicine, lost my health, home, and couldn't work. No. I don't want anything like this to happen to anyone else, if my warning can prevent it.
dated Monday, November, 28, 2011
For the record, Russell Bruner is married to Gay Hopson Bruner. He may tell you he wants to divorce her, they are separated but living in the same house for the sake of each of their kids from previous marriages. He may tell you he isn't in love with her anymore, she tricked him into marriage, bullying him at a low point in his life after he'd been laid off, when he was drinking a huge massive bottle of Glenlivet each night, & he tried to divorce her previously but his daughter, became so upset he gave up, postponing his divorce until she graduates from high school. This is what he told me.
I've known Russ Bruner for 20 years. Over those years he repeatedly attempted to flirt with me and tried to get me to let him sleep with me using some pretty shaky stories. Finally, in 2011, after I was raped in February, I called him in tears. I thought he was my friend, after all, he'd called a week before at quarter to midnight to tell me he bought the guitar he'd wanted all his life and I was the only person he wanted to tell. He listened to me for hours when I was distraught. I asked him if men are ever trustworthy, monogamous, and love truly. He said he's always been exclusive. I asked him about when we dated two decades earlier, when I thought he was seeing half a dozen others. He said it was only me. I told him I'd loved him and always thought he was the only one I've ever been involved with that I could fall in love with, but that I thought he needed to be with more than one woman. He said he wouldn't know what to do with more than one woman. I was touched & surprised. We started talking more often — as friends, since I'd never want to help my friend become an adulterer. He told me he was unhappily married and planned to divorce in 3-4 years when each of their children (from previous marriages) graduated high school. I was sad to hear that the man I loved & thought the world of was in such a relationship. I thought he deserved better. We started talking more often, he got me playing World of Warcraft. We spent hours playing, talking in-game and in Ventrilo late into the night, and on weekends until five in the morning.
In May 2011, we both needed to be in Philadelphia for work, and arranged to meet up. I, for one, had no intention of romancing a married man. I wanted to see if the person I'd thought of over two decades as someone I'd fall in love with actually existed. If he did, then I would know I should never accept less than I wanted in a partner, as I'd kept far too open a mind over the years. When I saw him, instantly I knew that man. That was who I'd loved for two decades. We spent time talking and hanging out for two days when we didn't have other plans, completely platonically. I sensed something and asked if he'd set any boundaries for this trip. He said yes. I asked what. He said no sex. That's what I'd set, too. We kissed, and it was there… that spark. We went off and kissed and talked for hours. I slipped an "I love you," and then stammered trying to explain. He said, no, I love you, too. I was dumbfounded. We kept within our boundaries, but eventually decided to take a time-out from reality, just in case time never gave us another chance. At the end of Philadelphia, I was very clear that I would not have an affair with a married man. He spoke of his wife, that he was not in love with her, she was disgusting, layers of blubber, smelled foul, watching her eat made him angry, she was a lazy entitled mother who raised kids that were like her, he hated two of her five children, from her previous marriage. If he wanted to be with me, he needed to be separated.
I had a suspicion that he might be lying, but I'm still not certain to this day. His first love, Dori Anderson Butler, and I were the two of his loves that he didn't marry, he said. He said he'd married all of the others, although he told me he wasn't in love with Gay, rather it was a marriage of convenience for their children from previous marriages, and she'd bullied him into marriage when he was in a really low place. She told him to marry her or break up, twice. The second time he gave in because he was laid off of work, drinking a "handle" of scotch each day, and generally felt unwanted. His daughter and her son were bonded, and he went along because he thought it best for the kids, to protect Gay from her ex-husband (he would've tried to take their son from her if she continued to be single), and he said because it was the only place he felt wanted, any longer. He regretted it, tried to divorce numerous times, but his daughter would weep or Gay would, and he'd give in, planned to wait for his daughter to graduate high school, and then divorce for certain. I asked him if he'd had an affair with any other women while he was married. He said, no. He told me he met up with his first love, Dori Anderson Butler, in Atlanta, a couple months before he met me in Philly, but that "her body was shit" and she was destroyed (from her illness), but that while talking with her he'd occasionally see the girl he knew more than 25 years ago, and it was nice to see. She told me, later, that he was a perfect gentleman. I wonder, now, if he would have been if her body wasn't "shit".
By June he'd asked his wife for a divorce, but she refused, broke down in tears and said they should go to counselling. He refused that, but didn't know what to do next. At his and friends' urging, I stayed by him while he worked on it. It began an affair, during which we spent a week together each month, emailed, texted, messaged, and spoke for hours each day. He told me he fell in love with me. He kept asking her for a divorce. She kept refusing. He said she became sickeningly sweet to him, that it made him very angry. We spoke for 12 hours each night while he was in Manchester, TN, for his hybrid rocket launch. I fell in love with him by the end of June. I was at a turning point in my life, and had the opportunity to move to Nashville as he'd asked me to twenty years ago. I offered, he said nothing would make him happier, so I made the arrangements. I kept asking about their physical separation but it would stress him out. He said he loved the half a million dollar home, wanted to keep it, but didn't know how to get her to agree to divorce. He and friends encouraged my patience. It was making me physically sick. I was exhausted from the anxiety and stress. I felt terrible about myself. I have an international reputation for honesty and integrity. This went against everything I stand for, but I thought if I left that I'd be running. I was trying to have courage, believe that I was loved and lean on him for that and support.
Nashville in July
I wanted to visit Nashville before I made plans to move there, and arranged a trip the last week of July. He said Gay Bruner would be out of town that week, he arranged for us to stay in a hotel in Brentwood that week, close to work, his home, and Nashville. He would need to take care of the dogs, but would have time to hang out. We went out, cooked together, played Warcraft, hung out, and explored things. I had two business meetings, one about an incredible job opportunity. The plan to move to Nashville in September solidified.
Denver in August
When I returned to Cambridge, I packed my belongings and moved out of the apartment I'd lived in for a decade. My back was locked up in pain, and I started taking muscle relaxers to alleviate it, but it didn't get better. Russ arranged for me to come to Denver when he had a business trip August 17-23. His coworker, Nimrod McDade, and I met in June when they came to Massachusetts for work, and we were friends. Nimrod would also be in Denver. I was very sensitive about being an affair and broached the subject. He said the word affair meant event, that I was the biggest event of his life, greater even than his beloved daughter. To be continued…