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Part 1. Snow...in...August?


Marine Road.

It's August 2026, two years on from Snow in August. I declined an all expenses holiday for some reasons I choose not to share, apart from not really being a holiday person, and just took a few days leave to combine volunteering at events with a few day trips. It was nice to see Tipperary again and even nicer to see Dublin and catch up with friends. 

He's standing there as he does in my dreams, as I reach the corner at the bottom of Marine Road. I shout his name, desperate that he doesn't hurry on. All day as I caught up with friends in Dublin, I hoped and prayed I'd find him. God whispered 'Go to Dun Laoghaire, get your hair cut' and I did. Well, along those lines. I can't afford a haircut in Limerick and Rob gave me 50 when I met him on North Earl Street and my hairdresser in Dun Laoghaire does my hair for 25, so it made sense. I went to Dun Laoghaire to get my haircut, knowing my friend could as easily be there as in Dublin. 

He turns and a smile slowly lights his face, and then I'm in his arms, and he's holding me tight, so tight, I'm in the arms of the man I love dearly. The only man I love, and certainly the only man I allow to hug me. Until last year there were two men I loved, but sadly, as Castletroy Words will tell you, I have lost one of them, God rest his precious soul and grant him his earned place, but occasionally let his soul soar over Galway Bay: 

https://castletroywords.blogspot.com/2025/09/hes-gone.html

So now, here in Dun Laoghaire I'm in the arms of the my friend and I need those arms so much, I thought that if I found him I'd be in tears but I'm not, and he is just a friend, this isn't a romantic relationship, he's known me through the worst of times and although he couldn't do a lot for me, he was there for me, he was a friend, he stood by me, which was the best anyone could do and it grew into love. 

His name is John, and I wrote this for him as part of the unfinished 'North Earl Street Series':

https://castletroywords.blogspot.com/2026/06/this-ones-for-you.html

We got the Dart into Dublin, and this weekend is unusual in that the Dart isn't too crowded, I had a quiet journey up to Dun Laoghaire and now we managed to get a quiet seat and we're talking and talking all the way. We haven't seen each other since May, and neither of us use a phone. 

Along the Dart Line there is a large imposing apartment block in pink and brown. I have never gone into detail with John about what happened but I need to talk to him, he's the best person for this. 

The man who took over my life, destroyed me and left me on the streets of Limerick, put me in a penthouse in that apartment block. 



I tell John that was where he kept me, in that apartment block, but that's all I say now. We arrive in Dublin and he has one task, the one that creates waves of jokes including between me and Andrew, and then we go for a meal. 

We choose an unusual place, as usual, but nice enough, he's been here before but I haven't. The tea is so strong I ask if it's made from leaves, which is always strong and flavoursome. We've chosen a place right by the bus stop for my bus back to Limerick. 

And we talk. 

We talk about many things. His things, my things, life, the universe and most things. He's my friend, I am so happy to be sitting with him and having a meal. My friend John is gentle and that's why I trust him, he thinks deeply and has many things going on, I don't always understand everything but I love to talk with him. 

Then I tell him I want to talk about what happened with the man who put me in that penthouse and hurt me so much. 

I can't name the man with his full name or give you any details, so let's call him Michael and this story is a true one, about what Michael did to me, from putting me in a penthouse the minute he met me, to leaving me on the streets of Limerick and coming after me, hurting me beyond healing and still thinking so highly of himself that he distresses me by showing off in the press as if he's a celebrity now.

The only one of my friends who ever knew the depth of how Michael hurt me was my old best friend, 'Big Sis' Lisa, and my friendship with Lisa broke under the strain of what happened, the damage to me, the impact as Michael left me back on the streets and came after me, and I blame myself entirely for that. 

There are questions about what happened which will never be answered, because the man responsible wouldn't answer them, he refused to conclude things or take any responsibility, and left me very damaged and with no answers or understanding. The whole thing was like a bad dream. 

John tells me that when I'm hurting and when I remember, I need to remember I'm moving onwards and upwards and that instead of thinking of that man, I can think of him. I do, and I smile, and it helps. There is no romantic or intimate thought between us, it is a friendship, one that would remain even if we were apart for years. 

I told John the unhealable trauma and he listened, and it helped. I remembered Rob earlier on North Earl Street, Rob who doesn't show a lot of emotion, with his grin widening as I told him how far things had come, and Sean, dear Sean, embracing me, yeah, okay, there is another man who can hug me, and I felt better, the kindness of these people who stood by me, buoyed me and hid the hurt for a few days, but nothing really takes away the injury I carry. These people are still there, Michael is not, and that says a lot. I gather that Michael didn't see himself as a friend to me, but he wasn't a professional, and because he 'rescued' me, I did see him as a friend, but knew nothing about him. It was a wrong relationship and I shouldn't have allowed it. 

When I'd told John, he hugged me hard and bought me refreshments for my bus journey and popped me onto the bus, and I'll see him whenever we meet again, we don't use phones, we don't email, we don't have any contact for months on end and we don't need to, the love remains the same when we meet. This works for me in a way that closeness can't because I have attachment disorder as a result of my horrific childhood. 

Now I'll tell you what happened. 

Snow in August. The strangest two months of my life and two years of impact. I am coming up to the second anniversary of my arrival in Limerick still troubled and being troubled by Michael, he puts himself into the press a lot despite not being a celebrity or public figure, and some of his articles are troubling in light of what he's done, and it makes healing harder. 

Here is a conservative overview of what happened up until I left Michael, but not what happened next. This was written over a year ago and I've revised it slightly:

https://thestorybehindlifeforce198.blogspot.com/p/a-conservative-overview-of-what-happened.html


This post which you're reading (not the link above), is the first post and the blog posts can be read in correct order from here, as a blog makes chronological order difficult. Next post:




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