What a great post!
But sometimes those companions you find can involve you in unusual situations.
Some years ago I was working in an Andean country known for its processing of agricultural products and its high murder rate. I met a lovely young woman from a nice family. Actually, a drop dead, outta sight, 10+ Sabrosita
We went riding, dancing at the club, swimming. All very posh, at least for a river rat like me.
Alas, all good things come to an end. We had our sorrowful parting and I returned to big eastern city USA.
I got a few letters that were a bit stronger than I expected, but wrote back that I was very busy now and probably wouldn't be able to keep up much correspondence. Next thing I get a phone call from her cousin, I'll call him Ernesto, and he was that. I had no idea she had a cousin in the US. Ernesto thought that we should spend a day together. I took him up to Cape Ann, and we sat around on boulders talking about how great Andean Country was.
No, I told him, I didn't think I was ready for marriage at this time. Low paying job, no ambition, poor prospects, bad study habits.
For the next 3 months, my apartment got broken into at least once every couple of weeks. Nothing taken, but always my financial records strewn about, and nice little touches like a bolo knife across my bed. Oh yeah, some of my photos from the time in SA were stolen. Others ripped up and left.
I took to keeping a shotgun in my trunk of my old Chevrolet. I'd come home, drive around the block, and park. Then I'd take my shotgun and walk around my place. If no signs of illegal entry, I 'd carefully go in. If the door was broken in, I'd walk down to the sub shop on the corner, and call the police. I got to know the Roxbury detectives pretty well.
My landlord got tired of replacing doors and windows, as well as door jambs. So I got evicted. My girlfriend figured I was radioactive. So I put my stuff in storage and lived in my car for 6 weeks or so. Not easy to do.
Finally, I moved into a group home!!! I didn't mention my recent difficulty. And it turned out OK, because whatever weird motive was behind all this stuff, it stopped just as suddenly as it started.
I never really know what was happening, but I had a strong suspicion it had something to do with Ernesto.
Anyhow, these days I am older, and although no wiser, at least more circumspect and aware of cultural differences.
My Andean friends just laughed and said-"We told you to stick to hookers!"
Mikey