I am an adventurous, creative, man who is looking to share my life with a soul mate. I have been fortunate enough to have many chapters of love, many more than I shared here, but never with my soul mate. I live in gratitude, pay it forward every day, am a helpless romantic and take great pride in maintaining most of my relationships for life. I am an artist, entrepreneur, athlete and father of two incredible young adults. I am caring, intelligent, wise, understanding and giving. I have always thought that I was never truly loved. Perhaps it is because I have such a hard time loving myself. I would like to fall in love with a woman who sees all that I am and for all the right reasons. I hope that I will see her, for all the right reasons, as well. I tend to be a “Brainiac,” yet, at the same time entertaining, especially when the opportunity arises to break out my cameras and create. I am very passionate about sailing. I hope to navigate the world with my love one day. For now, I am navigating Long Island and loving it. I am family oriented. For some reason, children seem to enjoy my entertaining ways, especially when we play Simon Says. I write professionally, produce and direct professionally and own an alternative currency trade network. I am your classic entrepreneur. I was sick for a very long time, but thanks to modern medicine and technology, I am much better now. I live a very healthy lifestyle. Despite the fact I have worked as a professional photographer and have photographed beautiful women from around the world, I do not think my future soul mate will be from the entertainment industry, or at least not someone who dedicates her life to it.
It was destiny’s song before we met, but I didn’t know it until long after I woke. She was a teenager. Somehow, she came to me, as she once was. A time long before her heart became callused and bruised, even broken. Before she lost hope and faith, or maybe a time before I lost mine. It was as if she was with me in a dream, sharing the deepest feeling of love we ever experienced together. She was not cold, or mean, or damaged. Her body language and her eyes showed me she was completely healed. She was looking directly into my eyes, something she had not done since we parted. We were walking arm in arm as if we were again in love. Time was irrelevant to our circumstances, circumstances that split us apart as if a giant dagger had been plunged into our hearts and split our souls. As we walked down a golden pathway there was no direction, no sense of time, or urgency or motion. It did not matter. All I could focus on were her eyes. We were older now but her eyes were as young as the first day I saw her, somehow even younger. We were walking arm in arm. She was focused completely on me and I on her. I don’t know how we were walking, as we didn’t look to see where we were going and for some reason we didn’t have to. We were walking as if we were being guided by a divine source and did not need sight. We were feeling our way along the path. There were twists and turns as if we were in a maze and yet there was no structure to it. Nothing had color or substance, but I could feel her and she could feel me. She was flirting, laughing, and smiling; more so than ever before. Even though we spent many years together, I had never seen her like this. I was happier than I had ever been. The feeling was euphoric, as if we were in heaven itself. Even so, I knew I was dreaming. It was an experience reminiscent of the angel of love who came to me when I was waking from surgery, in agony, with painkillers next to useless. But this felt more real. Here I was completely aware of everything and I was not drugged. I was with my destiny again and our souls were somehow brought back together.
I tried to come back to New York several times. Each time the winter was too much for me, so I would have to leave. When I tried at the end of 2011, I was back in the hospital within a few days of my return. Three months later, all the mayhem started. This was long after I had gone through more surgeries than I could remember. It was, however, before my leg bypass and several of the more extreme surgeries. I was told years earlier that my heart arteries were fixed, but I knew they were not. I was about to leave Florida for New York in my RV when a model I photographed asked if she could come with me. I was still producing reality series, but I lost my financial backing. So, in-between surgeries, I was attempting to reboot my career as a producer and director. When I started architecting an online broadcasting company, it was not to get into technology or build a social media platform. My goal was to start an online Netflix or Hulu, long before high definition streaming was mainstream. As a result of trying to buy content to stream, and learning how expensive it was, I started producing my own. I produced feature films, documentaries and entertainment series. My IMDB profile was going off the charts. So was my career, but eventually, I couldn’t even hold the cameras, let alone produce a series. I shut that part of the company down. For years, my partners and I continued to build that application. I was living in an RV. We never had enough capital or the right team of software developers to complete the project. I have since tried to talk every person, who asks, out of building apps. There is too much competition from gazillion dollar software companies. The process of building software is equivalent to playing chess with ten masters at the same time. It’s very challenging and risky.
When I look back at my life I truly cannot believe how young I was when I first fell in love, even if it was puppy love as they call it. It was the first day of kindergarten. We walked to school that morning. My mom almost always walked us to school the first day. My older sister was with us as well. It was not very far, probably less than a half a mile down Newbridge Road, to Newbridge Road Elementary School. I was five and my younger sister was only two and in a baby carriage. For some reason, we were told to bring a record with us. I had one of my father’s favorites with me. I was really small. When I was born, I weighed only four pounds, fourteen ounces. I was never put into an incubator and it would take years before I was eating or holding food down properly. I was a runt and had health problems from the time I was born. Eventually I grew almost a foot per year and as time went on lost my runt status, but my parents were surprised I survived. I was not exposed to more than the friends I had on my block, or near my block, as we were not allowed to walk very far from home. All the same, there were plenty of kids on my block. We had a nice little niche gang that played together. There was one girl who caught my attention as we walked up to the brick doorway to the school. She had jet-black hair. She was beautiful. She wore a pretty white dress and what looked like ruby slippers. That was the style back then. She was more dressed up than anyone and was the prettiest girl I had ever seen.
I am no longer marathon walking, as the years of pounding the pavement have taken its toll on me, as have the sports injuries from my youth. Like everyone, a half a century young, I have many bumps and bruises. One of my ankle ligaments is now completely gone. I had walked enough, between the miracle surgeries, to stay alive. When I stopped, my testosterone levels plummeted. The same doctor who fought the insurance companies on my behalf, saw this in a blood test and immediately put me on hormone therapy. He said I was going through “manopause” and my hormones were off from the sudden change in lifestyle. He implanted some Tic Tac sized pellets in my abdomen that helped my body manufacture more testosterone. My body made a ton of it. All a sudden I was losing weight. My belly that had been growing, without explanation, melted away, well, most of it. I started to grow hair all over my body and I woke up with a woody every day. It was like I was fifteen again. While I had remained mostly celibate for several years, I was now hornier than a hotdog on Viagra. I wanted to stay committed to my sexual sobriety, but there was just no way. I had come full circle. Shortly after putting myself on several dating services as “Husband 4 Hire,” I started to get tons of likes, winks and chat requests. I had girls from around the globe contacting me through online dating services. Big data and members of those networks, were spreading my profile all over the world. I already made the decision to meet my soul mate organically, so although I chatted with hundreds of women, I only dated a handful. One such woman joined me to go sailing, but as it was raining, we never made it out of the marina. We put the time to good use and were all over each other.
When I left the hospital, I could barely walk. The surgeons did what I asked against their better judgment. I had many arteries in my body that were failing or that had failed. I wanted them to fix them all. I didn’t want to go back to walking in severe pain. I wanted the pain to finally end. That was what I pleading with the doctors to help me do. If it were not for my primary physician, Dr. Paul, they would never have given me all the tests. I needed head to toe MRI’s to determine why I was in so much pain. Dr. Paul fought with the insurance companies and suffered through countless peer reviews. I owe my life to his determination and loyalty. He is one of the many people I owe my life to. There is a long list. It has finally stopped growing and I am doing my best to pay it forward to as many people as I possibly can. Sometimes that means not accepting payment from those who can’t afford to pay me for my services. Unfortunately, that is one method I can no longer afford. After years of surgeries and recovery, finances become as much a concern as health. Despite all the surgeries, they could still not fix the arteries in my heart. I had gone through over ten years of surgeries yet my arteries were still closing down. This was despite the numerous times they put stents in. In 2012 I left the hospital almost a bionic man. I had many new stents, the one artery in my heart they were able to fix and a massive bypass surgery in my right leg. My iliac artery had a new stent the size of my thumb and index finger. It had a golf ball sized growth, comprised of rock hard cholesterol, in it. The bleeding arteries in my rectum were surgically repaired as well. When they cut through my rectum they damaged me. They thought I would heal quickly, but it took over three years. Probably, because I never stopped walking, even when I had over a hundred and seventy-five staples in my leg. For over three years, I would be predominantly celibate and focus all my attention on healing.
I was floating in the most serene of spaces. I had no idea where I was; only that it was very peaceful. It was the most comfortable and relaxed feeling I ever experienced. It was as if I was weightless and floating above whatever it was I had been laying on. It felt warm, like bathwater at the perfect temperature. It felt like I was touching nothing. I was just there somehow. I couldn’t open my eyes, but I wasn’t sure why. I felt like I was dreaming, yet awake. If there was a heaven on earth, that is where I was. I felt no stress, no worry, no fear, nothing but peace. There were no birds, no trees and no blankets. I was just floating. But, there was light. It was as bright a light as I had ever seen; only I couldn’t see anything. I was aware of my body, but couldn’t feel it. It was as if I was in an incubator and didn’t even have to breathe on my own. I was confused, to say the least. And then, I heard a kind and gentle voice that seemed to be whispering directly into my brain. As her voice became clearer, I began to feel my heart beat again… but very slowly. And then, the voice would fade away. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, even though the message seemed to be coming from within my own body. Then, another heartbeat. But, still no breathing. Then her voice became clearer. She was saying, “breathe, Mr. Dowling. You have to breathe.” I was still floating. Each time I heard her voice, I would suck in air. While everything else was effortless, the breathing was not. It was almost impossible. Even so, I did not feel as if I was suffocating. I just wasn’t breathing. It was as if I was in suspended animation.
I was promoting college night parties with Keith Hart from Uncle Sam’s. It was a natural extension of my high school days promoting and hosting keg and victory parties for the entire school. I brought in a ton of people from various local colleges for a Halloween Party. Subsequently, I promoted many other parties with Keith But, I was never really interested in promoting night clubs. I just wanted to meet a lot of women. At the time, the most beautiful women were always at Uncle Sam’s. It was like the Studio 54 of Long Island. Keith was the kind of guy who would hook you up if you hooked him up. He followed a similar philosophy of paying it forward, in millions of dollars of funds raised for cancer research later in life. When I met him, he was one of the Long Island elite promoters who held the keys to getting into Uncle Sam’s, which of course then afforded the opportunity to meet the girls at the club. When I was modeling, he even put me on a Dating Game style show at Uncle Sam’s and I was chosen by the bachelorette. She dressed as a cheerleader for the occasion. Shortly afterwards, she took me upstairs and convinced me to take a few bumps. At the time, I had no idea what she was doing. She told me to snort white powder off her fingernail. She said it would make the sex better. Until that point, I had no idea we were going to have sex or what cocaine was. We did it on the stairs about thirty seconds later.
For me, junior high school was a time of sexual experimentation. Most of the kids played games like Truth Or Dare, Spin The Bottle, Seven Minutes In Heaven and a host of others. The only real difference between me and the other kids, was that I created my own game, “Sex Games,” at about the age of eleven. Unlike the other games, this was an actual board game. Yes, a sex board game for three or more people to play. I completely forgot about it until at my 30-year high school reunion, my junior high school girlfriend asked me about it. Many memories were rushing through my head when I first saw her. She was my girlfriend at the time we played the game. Mostly, we played it with her girlfriends. It was a throwback game…sort of a mix of Monopoly or Sorry with some Mousetrap thrown in. Players would roll dice to determine the number of spaces to move forward on the board. In that regard, it was like Monopoly. There were slides and ladders that advanced you past the serious sexual options. If you landed on pick a card, you had no idea what you might be asked to do. There were spaces for a “Truth” challenge and a “Dare” challenge. Some spaces would require actions similar to those from Seven Minutes In Heaven. I even adapted a spin type gizmo from another board game to determine who players had to make out with, when they landed on that spot on the board. Once, I landed on a space that required female players to change seats according to breast size. When the few girls playing kept arguing over who had the largest breasts, I was chosen to determine who was going to sit where, by feeling their breasts to make the determination. Do you think a preteen boy would create the game any differently? Life was good. The entire game was geared towards experimentation with kissing, touching, foreplay and more. And, when I say more, I mean a lot more. It was all based-on chance. I remember playing the game for the first time with my girlfriend and two of her friends. I had just finished developing it and this was to be the test. The girls loved it. As an additional benefit, I thought I could market it. I was entrepreneurial, even as a young man.