“Let go your heart.

Let go your head.

And feel it now.”

~ “Babylon” David Gray

1:17 a.m.

“I miss you.”

When I read the “I miss you” text on my phone just after I woke up the next morning, a huge smile broke on my face. I’ve never had a woman tell me that she missed me before, but the most bizarre thing about it was I felt the exact same way, and once I read it I felt safe enough to respond. When I sent the “I miss you too” text I felt absolutely no reservations about it as it was nice to communicate a feeling to someone I truly felt that also lacked a fear of judgment for feeling. It’s hard for people to understand how someone could miss someone they had only seen four times in their lifetime, but it felt like I had been missing her my entire life unconsciously and was just now being made aware of it.

Before we left Luke’s that night, Anya informed me that it was a busy time of the year for her because of business obligations during the holidays as parties, events and dinners were the norm for her throughout the entire month of December. She apologized for her current schedule, something she didn’t need to do, but she also promised to remain in touch with me often. I understood she had other obligations, obligations that were in place far before we met, and it was integral for her to fulfill those. I was also busy as I had a ton of work this time of year planning for the firm’s busy season engagements that ran from January up until mid-April, and even though we couldn’t see much of each other during December, we were lucky enough to live in a day and age to have cell phones and texting capability. Five days into December though…Anya seemed to have a hard time adjusting to our schedules when she called me one day out of the blue.

“Hey Anya.” I said, anxiously answering my phone. “How are you?”

“I’m sorry for calling.” she replied. “I’m just missing you.”

“Please don’t ever apologize for calling because I’m missing you too.” I said. “Hard to believe it’s been only five days since we last saw each other.”

“I know…it feels like a month.” she said. “Landyn…am I ever going to see you again? I’m worried.”

“Of course Anya. Why wouldn’t you? I’m not going anywhere. I know I left you alone there that night but you’ll see over time that wasn’t really me.” I assured her. “I’m here for you anytime you need me. Don’t be worried. I understand you’re busy. We both are. It works out. OK?”

“K.” she said. “I’m out in L.A. at a friend’s holiday party. I was just wishing you were here with me right now. I have to get back in there though. Have a goodnight Landyn.”

“You too. Have fun! I’ll talk to you later.”

As I hung up the phone I smiled again as I was warmed by her thoughtfulness and concern. It felt good to know I was on her mind as much as she was on mine, and her call let me know how much I meant to her. After I walked away, and the manner in which I did, I couldn’t blame her for thinking I would do the same thing again. I knew I needed to convince her I was in this for the long haul. I needed to convince her I was aware of her circumstances and the consequences. I had to make her feel safe no matter what. Nothing in this world is truly perfect, and things are never perfect, but I believe the best things in life worth having are born from imperfection as they are never easy. I understood her fears for the most part but I had to make sure she felt safety in all that she feared.

A few nights later she reached out to me again, this time via text.

9:03 p.m.

“OK, MISSED YOU. I’M REALLY SORRY, CAN’T HELP IT.” A

9:08 p.m.

“Will I ever see you again? Just confused…”

Have you ever had a person you thought about so much that you wait for them to contact you because you don’t want to look like an impatient fool, but they never do? That wasn’t Anya. Not even ten days into our relationship did she make me feel insecure for a second about her feelings for me, and it gave me the strength to open up a little more. Not only did it seem she was anxious to be swept off her feet but it appeared she really wanted me to. After she sent me the two texts, I asked if could call her, and she said it was okay to do so.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I just feel bad Landyn.” she said. “I’m not available to you. It’s not right.”

“Are you afraid I’m going to leave you again?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

“I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to.” I said. “Over time you’ll see I’m not the type to walk out on anyone. That was a rarity what happened at the Pacific Grill. Again, I didn’t leave you because I didn’t like you…I left you because I did. You’re married Anya and I had to protect my heart. It had nothing to do with you personally. It had to do with your situation. I care about you enormously.”

“I care about you too.” she said. “Would you want to go to the movies on Sunday? I can meet you in the afternoon before my cocktail party later that evening? I…I miss you.”

“I miss you too. Great…” I said in disbelief of her thoughtfulness. “I have something to look forward to on Sunday now.”

“I’ll text you the details later.”

“Sounds good.”

“Thank you for your patience. It means a lot to me.”

“No problem. Just do what you have to do. Don’t worry about us. We’ll catch up.”

“K. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

From this night on, I would either hear her voice or be texted goodnight from her. It was a small thing but Anya was a woman who knew the smallest gestures were the largest in importance, and so did I. The week seemed to go by easier knowing I would see her in a few days. On Saturday, she contacted me via text to meet her at Wayward Island in Newport Beach at the Edwards movie theater there. Since it was my first time at Wayward Island, an outside mall, I parked too far from the theater, but even as my poor sense of direction had given me an extended walk, I still made it on time. I waited literally only three seconds before Anya showed. She kept her attire beautifully simple; a pair of snug dark blue jeans and a floral patterned slim fit long sleeve blouse, but it was the first time I had seen her in the afternoon sunlight. Usually the lack of lighting at bars did women justice but under the sun’s rays, she dazzled as her gorgeous skin and eyes were made extraordinarily vivid and vibrant. When she saw me, she did not speak a word and came right into my arms as if I was home. I held her for ten seconds and when we broke our embrace, her smile lit up the sky as much as the sun did, or maybe it was a combination of the sun and the way I glowed from inside as I felt for the first time my life had a meaning. Even though I had lived without her my entire lifetime, it felt unfathomable that I lived without her for a single day. I instinctively touched the side of her right cheek because I could sense its warmth by sight alone, but I quickly withdrew because we were in the public eye and had to keep it as low key as possible.

“It’s sooo nice to see you.” she said. “It’s been crazy.”

“It’s really nice to see you too.” I said. “I’m glad we get to spend some time together.”

“Me too. What should we see?”

“What type of movies do you like?”

“Oh…I don’t have a preference. What kind of movies do you like?”

“You know…this is going to sound weird but I don’t like action movies.”

“My gosh…really? That doesn’t sound typical.”

“Action movies to me are just too unrealistic…too farfetched. They can never really happen. I’m just drawn more to true stories or dramas.”

“American Gangster looks like a drama and a true story. Would you wanna see that?”

“Are you sure?” I asked concerned she made a choice more on what I would like than she would like. “Is that something you wanted to see?”

“I don’t care what we see.” she said. “As long as I’m with you.”

Thirty-seven years had come and gone in my life. Every day as ordinary as the next. As much as I dreamt about being in love growing up and how it would feel, I could not have imagined another person would say what Anya had just said to me. I had gone to the movies for years on dates and even with my first girlfriend, Sara, quite often, but never had a woman made me feel the movie didn’t matter before. Even though movies run about ten to twelve dollars nowadays, when you’re with someone you truly care about, the memories you share during the show makes the price of admission worth every penny. In a span of just ten days, Anya made me feel something no other woman had been able to do in thirty seven years…she made me feel special.

After we bought the tickets minutes before the show started, we went to the snack counter and she bought popcorn for us and a Diet Coke for her after I opted for bottled water. When a huge smile broke on her face as she handed me our popcorn and my water, I could see this movie was a welcomed hiatus from her daily stress for her as she seemed genuinely happy to be with me. When we entered the theater, we immediately noticed we had it all to ourselves and when we sat down next to each other, she held onto my right arm and put her head on my shoulder as I placed the popcorn on my lap.

“Are you comfortable?” I asked her.

“Very.” she said. “Let me know if your shoulder gets tired.”

“That won’t happen.” I said never feeling more comfortable in my life.

She then looked up at me and our lips met for a few seconds before the movie started, but I found it hard to pull away and luckily for me, she did too. When we finally withdrew at least ten minutes later…we didn’t utter a single word to each other to acknowledge a silent understanding that our taste was an anticipation long overdue. To be honest, to this day, I still don’t have any recollection of a scene in “American Gangster”. I just knew Denzel Washington was in the flick, and Anya and I kissed throughout most of it. As she laid her head on my shoulder, I found myself lost in deep thought as I wondered how sad it must be for her, a wife, to not feel safe enough to lay her head on the shoulder of her own husband. Then, as if on cue, my low self-esteem suddenly crept in to make a cameo appearance just to let me know she would probably do this for any guy who showed her attention based on the historical premise that absolutely no woman has ever been drawn to me this way before. Fortunately, though, the reality was I had Anya’s head nestled on my shoulder and my thoughts would rebel and embrace how great it felt to have her soft hand in mine and her lovely head near my heart. Through the entire movie, I could feel how much she enjoyed just holding my hand, a distinct sensitivity I felt keenly as she massaged it with her thumb and traced her fingers inside my palm. Not only did this feel like it was something she thought about, it also felt like she was feeling around to know me better; to know me intimately; to know me as well as she knew herself as it seemed she wanted to know me more than anyone had ever known me so she could set herself apart from the others before her. Upon this revelation, a feeling of inner peace swept over me to banish those low self-worth thoughts I just felt and had long grown accustomed to. It was at this singular moment, one of the purest simplicity, that I knew Anya was different, far different from any girl I had ever met before. A girl I had always looked for but was beyond what I would even dare to dream of anymore out of fear, and it was then at this moment, I realized I would find out over time if she was indeed the girl I looked for all these years or if the stars, who were truly in control, wrote out our fate years before she met me.

I had been hardened by my past struggles. A personal upheaval Anya didn’t know about, but at the same time, no other girl ever knew them as well yet I was always judged regardless. All the things women had seen wrong in me, Anya saw them as right, and I just couldn’t believe, even under the circumstances, that our relationship wasn’t written by someone greater than us. By someone who moved the planets around the sun. By someone who held the entire universe together. Our relationship appeared to be a microcosm of the perfect harmony that existed all around us from the beginning of time, as we fell through a portal to see how far we could go.

After the movie, a movie I never watched but hated to see end, I walked Anya quickly to her car as she had to be home because she always made dinner for her kids. When we reached her vehicle, a black BMW, she offered to give me a ride to my car, but I forgot where I parked and I didn’t want her to be late. I kissed her quickly good-bye and we parted not knowing when we would see each other again but knowing we would.

6:46 p.m.

“I’M HOME NOW. GOOD NIGHT BABE. I HAD A GREAT TIME! A

I told her to text me when she got home to know she got home safely and she did, but a few hours later after she wished me a goodnight, she texted me again.

8:40 p.m.

“I’M SORRY. I JUST MISS YOU. IT’S REALLY HARD AT NIGHT NOT TO THINK ABOUT YOU.”

8:48 p.m.

“WELL I GUESS I’LL GO. IT’S JUST HARD. I’LL TALK TO YOU IN THE A.M.” LV, A

When I saw these two texts come through I immediately texted her because I felt it too…all she was feeling. After our great day at the movies, I found it hard to come home to my lonely apartment as I realized it was just that for the first time, but it was nice to know she felt the same way I did even with distractions at her home. The “Lv” at the end stifled me. I didn’t really know what to make of it. I thought it was “love” but so soon? Not even Denise loved me, and we experienced the most intimate act two people could ever experience. I know I cared for her deeply and it appeared Anya felt the same way but no woman has ever told me “love” anything and really meant it; other than my mother, but that was something I felt was conditional love because the condition was…well I was her son. I reasoned the “Lv” stood for something I didn’t know about such as all these other acronyms like lol (laughing out loud) or smh (shaking my head). Lv probably meant “Lea-ving” or "Loser-ville" knowing my luck so I chose to not analyze it for the time being. I texted Anya to tell her I was having a hard time too and I missed her but to not worry about me because I understood the situation. I felt I had a lot to prove to her before I truly earned her love, trust and the cognizance I had swept her off her feet. Patience not only had to be a virtue, but also my best friend.

8:54 p.m.

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY. YOU AMAZE ME. I BETTER GO…TALK TO YOU IN THE A.M. GOODNIGHT. ” LV, ME

I wished her goodnight, but a couple of hours later she text me again.

11:15 p.m.

“IF YOU’RE ABLE TO I CAN MEET YOU EITHER TUES OR WED. IF YOU CAN’T I WOULD UNDERSTAND. YOU CAN LET ME KNOW LATER, NO RUSH. BYE FOR NOW…” LV, A

The “Lv” at the end grabbed me more this time around as I could see how much she struggled over the last ten days alone. I then began to consider what it was like for her the last six months. How badly she must have felt after I had broken her heart. All these texts, in fact all her communication to me had genuine feelings behind it. It was honest. It was open. She wore her heart on her sleeve even more than I did, as she went out of her way to sweep me off my feet before I could even begin to sweep her off of hers. We then decided we would meet at an Italian restaurant called Luiggiano’s near my apartment on Tuesday. I almost asked to see if she wanted to come over to see my place, but I resisted the urge as I reasoned it was too soon. Late the following morning, I received a text from her however that threatened our plans to meet.

11:52 a.m.

“CHANGE OF PLANS. I JUST LEARNED THAT I CAN’T HAVE LUNCH. MY SON IS HAVING ORAL SURGERY TUESDAY AND I HAVE TO BE THERE AND FOR RECOVERY. I’M SORRY BABY. IF I BAIL ON THE DINNER PARTY THIS SUNDAY, WOULD YOU BE ABLE TO MEET ME? IT’S THE ONLY TIME I HAVE BEFORE JANUARY TO SEE YOU. HOPE YOU UNDERSTAND.” A

I asked if her son was alright and she told me he had chipped a couple of teeth running at school in the morning. I cared about her canceling because I looked forward to it, but her son’s health was much more important than my heart. I told her it would be great to see her on Sunday if it was possible.

12:53 p.m.

“K, LET ME WORK ON SUNDAY AND I’LL LET YOU KNOW. THANKS FOR BEING FLEXIBLE. IT REALLY MEANS A LOT TO ME.” A

It can be said because of my past luck, I had become an over the top analytical person when it came to my relationships. I mean no harm in my analyses, but I tried to avoid unnecessary pain when possible because I know how sensitive and passionate I am. I saw that Anya’s texts this time did not include the “Lv”, but I reasoned it was because she thought I would be upset and leave her when she cancelled her plans…probably something the guy she met before me did. The thing was though, I “lv’d” her too, and after only ten days, I started to look forward to her texts, and to hearing from her every day. She made my stressful workday bearable so even though I tried to avoid being hurt, I decided to put my trust in her feelings for me, or maybe she just naturally made me feel secure in them.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

8:20 a.m.

“GOOD MORNING HANDSOME! I MISSED SAYING GOODNIGHT TO YOU LAST NIGHT. CAN YOU CALL ME BEFORE YOU GET IN? I HAVE TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT SUNDAY.” A

I called her immediately after I got her text, right after I had stumbled out of the shower, as she told me Sunday was a go. She then admitted she could have texted me but she preferred to hear my voice because it made her feel safer. To hear this from someone I’d specifically ask questions to that required a long winded response because her voice pleased my ears like the London Philharmonic Orchestra, rendered me speechless. If she wondered if I was for real, I found myself beginning to wonder the same thing however she was consistently real all the time, and on this morning, our ten minute conversation got me through the entire workday because I knew I had something to look forward to again this weekend.

6:36 p.m.

“MISSING YOU…”

After I saw this text as I was stepping into my car to head home after work, my heart felt relieved as my head filled up with happy thoughts, and I quickly text her back to thank her because I was feeling the exact same way again.

6:49 p.m.

“YOU’RE MOST WELCOME. I REALLY CARE. I CAN’T REMEMBER EVER MISSING SOMEONE THIS MUCH, MAYBE BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE THE FREEDOM. WISH THINGS WERE DIFFERENT… I BETTER GO. I’M HANGING WITH THE KIDDOS. BEFORE YOU GO, TELL ME ONE MORE THING ABOUT YOU THAT I DON’T KNOW.”

I didn’t know what to tell her so I told her my favorite type of food was Japanese and even though I agreed to go to Luiggiano’s because she loved Italian food, I mostly disliked Italian meals for the most part which didn’t make much sense because I’m part-Italian. She then revealed something about herself as well.

7:27 p.m.

“I’M A VEGETARIAN, NOTHING THAT ONCE HAD A FACE! NO FISH! I’M PART-ASIAN, THAT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE.”

I found that interesting simply because she looked entirely Asian, but there were more things we would learn about each other over time we had no idea was true.

This time, Anya was at the restaurant before I was, and I even lived right down the street. When we met each other inside Luiggiano’s there was no time for a hug or even a short kiss as unlike the Pacific Grill, Luke’s, and the movie theater, the place was packed. I watched Anya’s eyes carefully as she scanned the restaurant, unsure exactly what she was thinking, but sensing some reservation in her.

“Could we sit at the bar?” she asked. “Is that ok with you?”

“Of course.” I said. “We’d probably wait an hour for a table if we didn’t. We can go somewhere else if you want to?”

“No that’s okay babe. I’m sorry…just a little bit worried. I know a lot of people in this part of the city.”

“I understand.” I said.

We then found two open seats at the bar and scanned through the menus that were set down before us by the bartender. I had never ordered a meal with Anya before, and quite frankly I was a little nervous, not because of the people Anya may have known around us, but because she looked so beautiful in the tight short sleeved dark blue top she wore that it tied my stomach in knots. I wanted to tell her how vulnerable she made me, but decided to play it safe instead. With her being a vegetarian, I thought ordering a salad would be a good complement to her order, and after I revealed my selection to the bartender, I prayed she didn’t sense my butterflies, but I believed even if she did, she was not the type of person to mention it.

“I didn’t know you drove a Mercedes.” she stated.

“I didn’t tell you that?” I asked knowing full well I never told her about it.

“Nope. I just noticed it when I saw you pull in.” she said. “It’s a nice car. Usually a man would brag about driving something like that.”

“It runs really well. The way it hugs curves is fun. Love the German engineering.” I said. “I don’t think it’s much of anything to brag about though because I prefer to be liked for who I am and not for what I drive.”

“Is that why you parked so far away from the theater?” she asked. “Were you afraid I’d find out what you drove?”

“Not at all.” I said honestly. “I parked far away because I had no idea where the theater was… but I don’t like women to know what I drive for the most part.”

“Well…I care more about the person than I do about what they drive.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” I said. “I know you do…but you have to consider you probably already have those things so why would you?”

“I find it sad to think that so many women think that will make them happy in life. A nice car. A nice home. I think it’s so sad. They just don’t get it.”

Her statements were not a surprise to hear as I remembered when she snapped at me the first night we met when she said “money and things don’t lead to happiness.” The thing that surprised me though about her statements was not only how much she seemed to get me, but also how much she seemed to get it. How she didn’t jump at me for insinuating women wanted men with money. She knew there was a truth to it because she used to live it until it humiliated her… and I appreciated her honesty and the humility that came with it. It was rare and I found my eyes adoring her even more than I had the previous time we had seen each other. There was something behind her eyes that allowed me to see beyond just where she sat. Her mind and the ideals she stood for enriched my being as it drew me to her like a sun’s solar flare, a bond pushed slightly outward to experience things outside its host only to be drawn more forcibly back in to reunite with an enlightened fervor. If there was a moment where I was brave enough to respond to her “Lv’s” this was the time…but I held back as I held on to the pain of Denise.

“What was the last guy like?” I asked.

“The last guy?”

“Yeah…you know…the guy you dated before me.” I asked again, nervously.

“Oh, Lance?” she replied, a look of surprise breaking upon her face. “My God…I forgot about him.”

“Didn’t he break your heart too? And you let him off the hook just like that?” I joked.

“I guess before I met you I didn’t know what a broken heart really was.”

“I think you know what a broken heart feels like more than anyone. That’s why we connected. It’s not fun to go through and I can’t imagine what it feels like when you’re married to the person. Everybody says it’s easy to move on after short relationships but I beg to differ.”

“How so?” she asked.

“I’m speaking from experience…but I found it harder because you don’t really have anything to cling onto that you don’t like about the person. The relationship is so short lived you really only know the things you do like about them…things you may even love about them. I just found it harder because of that.”

“Do you always look for the good in people?”

“I don’t think there’s any other thing I should be looking for in others than the good side of them. If I'm going to date them to seek out the bad then I shouldn't be dating them in the first place. I mean...why waste their time? No one’s perfect anyway. All I care about is if they’re perfect for me.”

“This isn’t a perfect situation though Landyn. I feel bad about that. That’s why I get scared.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“I’m afraid you will give up, get frustrated…and leave me.”

“I don’t know how to ease your fears…because I’ve walked away one time before. After Lance left you and then I did the same thing, I understand your concerns. All I can say is I’m not the type to give up easily. I believe persistence pays off. I have to tell you this…”

“Tell me what?”

“You know…I’ve been in relationships with women that were free to see me anytime they wanted to. They were free to care about me all the time and anytime.” I stated slowly. “In a span of just two weeks you have seen me more times with much less freedom. Every time I see you I learn something new about you that draws me closer, and it makes me want to learn more. The thoughtful texts you send me every night confirm all I am feeling too. I know you need me to sweep you off your feet, but you’re so afraid of losing me that you don’t realize you’re sweeping me off of mine. I think that’s just you though. You have a natural way of making people feel safe and letting them know they are special… without having to tell them. You let your actions speak, not your words. That’s a beautiful gift. I think in time…you will get to know the real me and I wouldn’t be comfortable with you leaving for me until you meet him. So…patience is key for both of us, and I don’t think pressure is something we need right now. Let’s just relax….take a deep breath and get to know each other and then see what happens and let the chips fall where they may…but I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“Good…because you’re stuck.” I teased.

“I don’t mind being stuck with you.” she said. “I want to be stuck with you.”

“Well…that makes two of us.”

The previous three times we met, we had some things to get off our chests and some emotions to release. We knew we were going places just not sure how to get there. This meeting though was something entirely different because it was the first time we could concentrate on getting to know each instead of talking about our obstacles in life. It seemed our interest in each other grew the more we talked about who we really were. When our salads came out, it gave us a respite from the learning dynamic but the more our salad disappeared from our plates, the more we learned how much we had in common.

“What kind of music do you like Landyn?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I guess I like it all except hard core gangster rap and death metal.”

“Oh my God! I’m sooo glad you don’t like those!”

“Kind of a bonus huh?” I laughed. “If I had a preference I would say I gravitate towards classic and hard rock.”

“Really?” she perked. “Like what kind of bands?”

“I tend to like bands that can rock when they need to but can also play a good love song like…you know…The Scorpions…Pink Floyd…Def Leppard.”

“I love the Scorpions!” she exclaimed.

“You do?” I asked surprised. “Everyone thinks “Rock You Like a Hurricane” is there only hit song but they have a ton of them.”

“Love them! Do you like Led Zeppelin?”

“Zeppelin’s great too!”

“There’s a Zeppelin cover band that plays at the local bars called “Dread Zeppelin.” I was going to check them out next Friday night with Debbie. Would you want to meet us out there?”

“Definitely!” I said. “I’ve heard of them but never been. That would be very cool.”

“Okay…I’ll let you know.” she said. “I’m going to see Bocelli perform on Saturday night. Do you know who he is?”

“The blind tenor. Yes I do. He has a great voice.” I said. ”I kind of grew up on Pavarotti. My Dad used to always play an album of Neapolitan songs he did. Have you ever heard of Tosti or DiCapua?”

“No.” she said. “Who are they?”

“They were eighteenth century composers. Pavarotti covered their songs. “O Sole Mio” by DiCapua which means “My Sunshine.” And “A Vuchella”, by Tosti which means “Little Mouth of Flower Petal Lips.” “A Vuchella” though was my favorite because he sings it with so much emotion. I don’t speak Italian but I can sing that song in English and Italian…although not very good, but I can sing it…which is pretty spooky if you think about it. I’ve just heard it so many times because of my Dad…it just grew on me. That’s the beauty of music though. If it touches your heart, you can understand it in any language.”

“Maybe you can sing it to me some day?”

“Would love to.” I said.

“I wish you could come with me to see Bocelli but it’s sold out. I bought these tickets way back in May...before I met you. I gave Debbie the ticket and she's already made arrangements with her family to come.”

“Well, maybe someday we can go together?”

“I would love that.” she said. “I initially bought these tickets for Lance and I, and I was going to surprise him, but I guess the surprise was on me. Lance is a romantic singer in the spirit of Andrea Bocelli. Sounds just like him actually. He has an amazing voice Landyn. Josh Groban amazing.”

“To sound like Bocelli he must have an amazing voice.” I said. “Who’s Josh Groban?”

“Oh my god! You don’t know who Josh Groban is? He’s an amazing singer too.”

“Well…there’s a lot of singers I’m not familiar with to be honest.”

“I’ll burn you a CD.” she said. “So you can catch up.”

“Thank you! I appreciate that.” I said. “How did you meet Lance?”

“As the Events Coordinator of the company I reached out to a few performers for a particular event we were having. During the interviewing process I got to know Lance personally and things just happened.”

“I take it you told him about your situation?”

“Yes…he knows.” she said. “It was just a friendship more than anything else. It was passionate, but just a friendship.”

“I don’t know how I can compete with a guy who sounds like Andrea Bocelli and Josh Groden.”

“It’s Josh Groban…and there’s no competition babe.” she said sweetly. “You’ve already won.”

I could tell Anya was moved by music…sounds that pleased her ears and I appreciated that about her. Music was an emotional outlet of expression for me as well. I dabbled in guitar, but I was never musically inclined, and even though I’d have an easier time performing open heart surgery than writing or creating a song, I still loved music. It moved me too, and it was nice to put a face to the romantic songs I always liked, but could never really embrace until now.

“What do you do for fun Anya? Do you have any hobbies?” I asked.

“I love to run.” she said. “I run half marathons. Would like to run a marathon one day but kind of scared. I’ve broken my ankle a couple of times.”

“Ouch. I’m sorry to hear that.” I said. “I can understand your fear of running a marathon after a severe ankle injury. I’ve had one myself before playing basketball and I was afraid to step back out on the court after that, but I think you’d be surprised by the things you can accomplish if you set your mind to them.”

“Do you like to run?” she asked. “You look like you run. You’re in good shape.”

“You think so? Thank you." I acknowledged. "I’m not much of a runner. When I was younger I used to run a lot because I played sports quite a bit though.”

“Which ones?”

“Baseball, basketball, football, even hockey…um…on roller blades though…not ice skates.” I said. “I roller blade at the beach sometimes on the paths.”

“I used to roller skate. Maybe one day we can go skating at the beach together?”

“That would be very nice.” I said with a smile as I imagined us at the beach lacing up our skates. “I also like to read and write. That’s my other hobby.”

“You like to read?” she asked incredulously. “and write?”

“Yes…I frequent bookstores often. I must admit though I’m not very up to date on my classic novels but I do read quite a bit. I love to be transported anywhere but here sometimes. Other than falling asleep, reading allows me to escape this place.”

“I love to read too.” she announced cautiously. “What have you written so far?”

“Well, I was working on a novel but I gave up on it.”

“Why did you give up on it?”

“Reality.” I said. “I was broke and I didn’t think I had what it took to be a good writer…so I decided to study business instead.”

“If I may ask…what was your novel about?”

“You know…I’ve never told anyone about my novel before.” I revealed hesitantly. “I’ve kind of kept it to myself…but here it goes. I read an article in the newspaper one day about a man and his wife who were attacked by a great white shark on their honeymoon while scuba diving off the Great Barrier Reef in Australia.”

“Oh wow. Sounds tragic.”

“That it was.” I confirmed. “As I read the article further though, I learned the wife saw the shark coming at her husband and then instinctively jumped in front of the shark just before it could attack him. The husband was quoted in the article that he witnessed in horror as the shark literally tore his wife apart. I just thought it was the most beautiful act of love and sacrifice I had ever been made aware of…and it was true. True love does exist. So I thought I would take that story and embellish it under the pretense that the husband had no recollection whatsoever of the attack.”

“He suffered from amnesia?”

“A self-imposed amnesia because the event was so traumatic he buried it away as if it never happened because it was too painful for him…but instead of her saving his life, the police believe he premeditated her murder and was covering it up by saying it was a shark attack. I thought it would be an interesting dynamic…the fact, or truth versus what is logically derived and is therefore disguised as the truth. The story then leads the cops to investigate their history and they ultimately learn that they didn’t have the best relationship and it was highly likely he had a motive to kill her. He even admits he hates her guts, but he doesn’t know why, while his attorney, who is having marital problems of his own, is trying to ethically save a client who is not interested in saving himself from a certain death, but in the end…”

“What happens?”

“Do you want me to spoil it for you?”

“I just want to hear your voice when you tell it to me.”

“You like my voice?”

“Uh-huh.” she responded almost in a trance state.

“Well, in that case.” I said as I smiled. “In the end he sees something that kick starts the healing process right at the end of the trial. He then learns the reason he hates her so much is because he has to live the rest of his life without her, the love of his life, because of her selfless act.

”That’s pretty deep.” she said.

“Even in darkness there is beauty.” I finished. “I guess in my life I’ve had to write about true love to experience it. Kind of pathetic I know.”

“So you believe true love exists?”

“I believe so.” I said without giving my feelings away if it suddenly scared her.

“And you never wrote this novel?”

“I wrote about a couple hundred pages then gave up.” I said. “I decided to join the real world instead.”

“Do you still write?”

“I do somewhat.” I said. “I keep a journal of my thoughts and feelings just to stay in touch with my writing.”

“Am I ever in your journal?” she giggled.

“You might be.” I joked knowing she was pretty much all I ever journaled about these days.

Anya just stood there and smiled at me. Her eyes locked in on mine.

“I want to lean over and kiss you sooo bad right now.”

“Maybe one day.” I said as I smiled back at her. “I’m glad we could be open with each other about the things we enjoy. It’s nice. I’m glad we can be honest with each other.”

“If we aren’t honest with each other…we don’t stand a chance.” she said.

Even though we ate together in a public restaurant, we kept it low key and gave each other a quick hug on the way to our cars. I left Luiggiano’s that day feeling closer to her, and it made me realize how much I cared about her and how badly I wanted this to work out for both of us. After today, I knew the road ahead was going to be difficult because I could feel so much for her already and based on my heart’s history that was never a good thing. I could play it cool all I wanted to but after today I felt something stronger than I had felt for anyone before because it was clear we both enjoyed each other’s company and would learn more about each other every day hereafter. When I returned to the apartment my high crashed slowly down and I suddenly felt sad as I’d have to say it was the first time I truly missed her…I mean really missed her. A couple of hours later though, my feelings were validated.

6:35 p.m.

“I’ve been thinking about you. Text me anytime. I’ll miss you.”

Anya had taken the thoughts right out of my head but was too fearful to initiate my feelings. Although a coward, I was doing her wrong by being one. As I looked around my quiet apartment, I realized I needed some time to spend with her out of public places. I wanted to tell her how I felt and I wanted to see her eyes when I told her. I knew these feelings were only going to grow and I needed to know, as history had shown me, if I needed to nip them in the bud. She was beginning to consume my thoughts, but the truth was I wanted her to devour them. At the same time though I needed more validation and I felt if I could get her alone it would provide me with an opportunity to lay it all on the line before it was too late. No letters. No texts. Just us.

That night I had a hard time sleeping as I feared I was going to lose her, but I needed to invite her to my apartment so if she saw something she didn’t like, at least I would be able to recover a lot sooner than I did when Denise left me. I just didn’t know when I would be brave enough to ask her and ready enough to lose her. When Anya texted me in the morning, like she usually did, I told her I had a rough night sleeping without letting her know what was on my mind.

10:03 a.m.

“OH MY GOD! I DID THE SAME THING! I WOKE UP AT 1 AM AND COULDN’T GO BACK TO SLEEP TILL 3 AM! I HAVE THE COMPANY X-MAS PARTY TONIGHT TOO. GOING TO BE A LONG DAY.”

Too chicken to find out why she had a hard time sleeping as well; I wished her a good day. Later that evening however, she text me again which gave me another chance to ask her if she would like to come by.

5:23 P.M.

“STILL AT THE COMPANY X-MAS PARTY. I HAVE ANOTHER PARTY AT 6 PM TONIGHT. HONEY I’M TIRED, I WISH I COULD STOP. HOPE YOUR DAY WENT WELL” A

But I chickened out again.

The next day she again communicated to me her schedule which consisted of two other social events she had to attend. I sent her a text message to let her know I was thinking about her and to try and enjoy herself at the events instead of stressing out over them. I then told her she was in my journal last night to let her know she was on my mind.

10:14 a.m.

“Thanks for the smile. You make me melt. Yes, I’m extremely busy but I can handle it. As far as your journal goes I think it is the sweetest act.” A

As I chickened out yet again, I tried to make myself feel better by reasoning I’d ask her when and if I saw a text from her followed by an “Lv” otherwise I’ll just sit on these good feelings until I can’t sit on them any longer, but that night however she gave me an opening when she sent me another text.

9:07 p.m.

“GOODNIGHT…I LOVE RAINY NIGHTS.”

I was a person who disliked the rain for so many reasons. I hated to drive when it was raining as it seemed people lost their minds when they saw a drop of water fall out of the sky here in sunny California. I hated getting my clothes wet because I never expected it to rain plus I loved the summer, sun and the beach. I never looked at the rain as anything worthwhile or something to enjoy, but Anya put rain showers in a different context for me as I saw the soothing healing part of nature in it for the first time.

9:19 p.m.

“AM I IN YOUR JOURNAL TONIGHT?”

“You’re always in my journal these days.” I texted her back as I was now writing more to deal with the feelings I had for her.

9:24 p.m.

“I LOVE IT!”

9:32 p.m.

“HARD TO BELIEVE YOU’RE FOR REAL.”

When I received this text I thought of Denise. I thought of all the times I opened doors for her and how she believed I couldn’t be real either. I felt Anya was beginning to feel the same way Denise did and I was not going down that same high speed portal. With her next text though, I knew the time to ask her was upon me.

9:41 p.m.

“IF YOU ONLY KNEW MY THOUGHTS…”

“I have a lot on my mind too. It would be nice to find some place where we could talk in private.” I texted back.

10:07 P.M.

“OK, WHERE WOULD YOU LIKE TO MEET NEXT TIME? YOU PICK.”

“I was hoping maybe you would like to come to my apartment? We can play a board game if you want to and talk?” I finally asked through a text message.

10:39 P.M.

“CAN I THINK ABOUT IT?”

I told Anya she could of course, but her answer led me to think of a friend who every time he’d ask me to do something I would tell him “I’ll think about it.” Over time he noticed whenever I said that to him, that it was the same as telling him “no”. I could say with absolute certainty when I saw Anya’s text I knew exactly how he felt. I didn’t need to wait for Anya’s answer because I knew it would be the same as it had always been with women…”Thanks but no thanks.” I needed to know where I stood though and so it was a risk I needed to take. At least now I could stop living a life steeped in delusions of grandeur if I had to. I reasoned if I had anything left at all with her, I still had Dread Zeppelin tonight to look forward to, but my demise started innocently enough the next day with a text at around eleven a.m.

11:02 a.m.

“HEY L, I DON’T THINK I’LL MAKE IT TO DREAD ZEPPELIN TONIGHT.” LV, A

I had really looked forward to seeing Anya at the show, but I also knew this is the way it usually went in my life. Sure, I was hurt but I expected it now. The “Lv,” just softened the blow a little as I’m sure she felt bad which was more caring than Denise had been. All I needed was one more rejection and I would be on my way. The way it had always been for me. The way Denise saw things in me. It was only a matter of time until reality would find me, but fate never allowed it to.

3:42 p.m.

“I would love to.” A