“I believe that every single event in life that happens is an opportunity to choose love over fear.”

~ Oprah Winfrey

ANYA: “Are you upset? I hate upsetting you.”

I hated to go silent on her, but after all we shared over the last year I couldn’t believe she committed to even more holiday p lans. How could she look her husband in the eye after all we’ve shared and go along with them in any way? I tried to put things in proper perspective; I wouldn’t have wanted her to change her plans for me. I wouldn’t want her to “shake up” her kids during the holidays. But to not scale her plans back at all told me a harsh truth I wasn’t willing yet to accept, she had possibly already made up her mind about us. These plans were made with an act of knowing with some will of certainty simply because I felt betrayed by them. How could she ever betray me? The only man who wanted the best for her? The only man who truly cared and loved her? If she could betray me, then love could never exist for me as it felt my entire life imploded before me, and nothing I felt, all these emotions, didn’t mean a single thing to her.

I couldn’t respond at this time as I said more in silence than I did, or could, in words as I morphed into an emotional wreck inside. I felt this was another one of those things she should have told me about without me having to ask which held stronger the belief she knew what she did to me was wrong.

ANYA: “Damn it! U asked me and I was being honest. Would you rather that I lie? I hurt you and I ruined your day. I’m sorry. I hate this Landyn.”

I appreciated her “honesty”, but honesty was also something one shouldn’t have to ask about. I felt the escalation of her holiday plans this year should have taken into heavy consideration my existence in her life, and the reason for my role in it. Instead she took no responsibility, nor even a sincere act of consideration into how making these plans would affect me as she claimed she hated to hurt me, yet she made the plans anyway. And what plans were on the horizon for next year I didn’t know about, too? I had to prompt honesty from her by asking about things she hid from me? I felt betrayed, so I sought more more of her version of “honesty” because I was ready to end us as I felt she left me no choice.

ME: “What’s going on with you and your husband? Is another trip to Europe already planned for next year too? How is that for the sake of the kids? The thought of you doing things with him after all we’ve shared disgusts me after all you’ve made me aware of about him.”

Anya needed a dose of real honesty; how her plans made me feel and how they filled me with fear there was more I didn’t know. Yet, the one who loved me never saw my fear, but rather her own.

ANYA: “R u kidding me? Why don’t you just tell me to f*** off at this point.”

I sat on her text and thought about it before I responded. I pondered but could not escape the blatant message behind her holiday plans; that by escalating the scope of them this year after all we shared was in so many words telling me to “F*** off” as well, and I refused to do her dirty work. Before I could respond though, she hit me below the gut.

ANYA: “I’ve taken the kids skiing every year since they were little. How am I supposed to explain to them I can’t go skiing with them anymore? You’re accusing me of lying?”

If she took her kids skiing every year since they were little, how would that change if she left Jackson since she was the one who took them skiing every year? The truth was, he took them skiing every year, and if she left him, she wouldn’t be able to attend. Why wasn’t this annual “skiing event” though never mentioned to me at all last November, basically less than a month before it took place on a yearly basis? I couldn’t accuse her of “lying”, but how could truth by omission be an act of honesty? How could I ask about events I had no idea existed? I simply trusted her to tell me these things, so I could understand them better, or at the very least, make the best decision for myself about how to deal with them if I couldn’t. I should be made aware of them and not have to ask about them in an honest relationship. I tried to hold back my emotions as I hit her pretty hard with my previous text, as she continued to respond without a further prompt from me.

ANYA: “Know what I knew this was going to happen. We’re BU’d and I think we should keep it that way. I can’t stand it a minute longer.”

For the first time in our relationship, I was okay with being broken up with her. If she was still sleeping and making plans with him, then we should always be “BU’d”. All intimacy between them would have to come to a complete halt if our BU status changed because that went against all she ever told me and, represented a betrayal. For the first time, I saw how Anya spun things around on its head to make it seem like she was the victim. That the plans she designed that she knew could only hurt me, hurt her more. I went back to the time she told me “she could get any man she wanted.” Words that were completely inconsistent from the broken hearted woman she portrayed herself to be when we first met. If she carried that much esteem about herself, an ego parallel to Jackson’s, why would she even want me? We were “BU’d” because Anya didn’t truly want to be with me, because if she did, these plans would have never been made as I never felt more misled and betrayed by someone in my life.

ME: “You can have any man you want anyway so why me.”

ANYA: “Because you’re my soulmate. That’s why.”

ME: “I don’t think you lie to me, but you do protect me.”

ANYA: “I try. Not good enough.”

Anya’s “soulmate” text stirred me up like a blender as it turned me from a solid into a liquid. I wanted to see things through her eyes but couldn’t deny I felt too deceived to continue our relationship. Her holiday plans spoke volumes about how she felt about all we’ve shared, and her plans to be with me. And if she felt she could get any man she wanted, even if she thought I was her soulmate, she didn’t even care enough to fight for our love, a love I began to doubt truly existed in her heart for me, a love I felt she tried to eradicate like the Ebola virus. I didn’t want nor needed her protection. I wanted the truth. Not truth by omission. She could protect Katie and Andrew that way, not me. Her protection of me only served a selfish purpose, and I wasn’t her child.

ME: “It’s not good enough because I won’t let you do it.”

With this final response, our text exchange about the holiday plans she made, without any real consideration for my feelings, came to an end. At its conclusion, I just felt so betrayed. I knew she had to make them, and I understood that, but to not scale them back even a tad in consideration of all we shared, told me she it didn’t mean that much to her and she already knew something she had yet to communicate to me. It brought me right back to Denise, when I was left to do her dirty work based on the way she started to disrespect and treat me, and I was over with these types of self serving manipulative games played against me by the women in my life. I expected it from Denise, but never from Anya. If this was the way she treated the people who loved her, then I didn’t want to hear back from her ever again; our love was never real to begin with.

After our exchange as thoughts of the greatest sense of hopelessness consumed me, I drove over the Port Gateway Bridge, as I seemed to experience a harrowing out of body experience on the mile long trek, For the first time ever as I reached its peak; I began to study it, meticulously, intently. I noticed its cables and gaps to search for weaknesses in the middle of my own. I then realized how the bridge invited me to its highest tower, how it provided balance and even support, like the hand of God, to lead me to its highest point and on its tallest tower. How could this be? How could the love I found in Anya, the greatest happiness I had ever known only lead me to seek a way to reach the top of the bridge so I could end my life? As much as I contemplated suicide, it still was a thought I never took seriously enough until now. How could she pit the love I had shown her against her children? How could all the sacrifices I made for her based on her wishes, after all we shared, be up against the happiness of her children? How could she have allowed me to feel so much for her, for nothing? To ask me to fight for her only to face a battle she knew I’d one day lose? If her love betrayed me, what choice did I have? I'd never be able to love this way again, and now that I knew this was how the good times should feel, I feared to spend most of the of my remaining life in wait for something I knew only came around once in a lifetime. The man who existed before I met Anya, existed no more; a ghost. The man oblivious to this kind of love, with no memory of such, could not be reached like a detached astronaut overtaken by the laws of gravity, whose fate lied in hands other than his own. Did the universe I trusted to lead me to breath only lead me to death? Was my fate not of love, but rather self destruction in my pursuit and belief of it? I began to believe things, even those which appeared to be strongly in my favor, were never meant for me, but for the benefit of others, so Anya could find solace in her marriage again, and possibly the Universe used me as a servant to do its bidding, one I surely didn’t believe in doing, as if I asked for this outcome by being a loving and caring person. If this was the plan for me, I lost all trust and faith in anything but hell, as once again He failed to sell me on heaven more than He ever did before. Was my purpose on Earth to suffer so others wouldn’t have to? Was intolerable suffering my reward for loving someone? The more these thoughts consumed me, the more I began to believe my fate waited for me three hundred and sixty five feet above the earth. That my demise was my destiny.

When I returned to the office, all I could do was stare off beyond space. I understood the kids “loved to ski” and I respected the importance of that for them to not have it changed, but why would she think they would stop skiing if she left Jackson? What control did he exert over her that led her to believe they would hate her so much if she left him? What perplexed me the most was how come she built him up as the greatest man that ever walked the face of the earth to everyone around her if she couldn’t return his “I love you”’s and refused to kiss him? Anya certainly knew “the kids love to ski” the night she approached me at Sonomas, the night we reconnected so close to ski season last year, and all the times she made plans to visit me. Something had to have changed as her feelings felt no longer on par with mine. I could implore her to listen to herself all day long, but at the end of it, she still didn’t know if she could leave. After all we shared how could she possibly stay? Did she not have a conscience? Was this just payback? I didn’t feel betrayed by her holiday plans or even the skiing trip, it was the fact she still made them without an ounce of consideration of my role in her life, as if we had just met. There was absolutely no acknowledgement I was a part of her life. How did she think I would feel when I found out? When the plans were being made with Jackson, how could she look him in the eye, even after two confrontations, and go completely along with all of them, even adding to it? I knew she had to go through most of the holiday plans to not disrupt things for her kids during the holiday season, and I didn’t want Jackson to divorce her during this time, but how could she escalate her holiday schedule? How could she make Jackson feel safe? I could no longer deny the toll and the increased sensitivity I felt regarding the things she did for her marriage, as they blurred the fine line between things she did for her marriage, and things she did for her kids.

I told Anya, when we first met, that anyone who cheated on someone didn’t truly love them because if they did, they never dared to risk losing them by cheating. Now I had to practice what I preached as I felt betrayed by Anya’s holiday plans. How could she ever hurt me, and she knew she did because she told me it was her biggest fear, if she truly loved me? I never wanted to be loved by her in only a “friend” sense. I didn’t get involved in support of her marriage, and any love for me solely as her buddy. I felt she did cheat on me in some way as she appeared to choose her marriage and Jackson over me because of what it provided to the kids, and I deserved to know this from day one, and not have to ask about it to inspire her definition of honesty. Her truth by omission was not an act of honesty, but rather one of an artful manipulation. You don’t allow someone’s feelings to grow for you, especially when you know that person walked away because of that fear, then break up with them. Anya claimed to be honest with me from the beginning, but she wasn’t because I shouldn’t have had to learn a year into our relationship that the kids loved to ski let alone ever hear from her “how am I supposed to tell them I can’t go skiing with them anymore”? How could she allow someone to feel so deeply for her and hit them with that? I didn’t support her marriage because of the horrific gross acts of infidelities she purposely made me aware of so why is she putting the onus on me to feel bad if I asked her to do the right thing to promise to leave Jackson? When mothers made sacrifices for their kids, it was usually a lone sacrifice of happiness, and not the sacrifice of someone else’s happiness as well. How could any woman who loved me pit me against her kids after she shared every detail of their lives with me? Even after she invited me to her daughter’s recital? What was my role in Anya’s life? If this was me versus the kids, and it clearly was, then our relationship was already over.

I refused to text Anya, and if she chose to never text me again, at this very moment anyway, I was fine, but she did.

ANYA: “R u ok?”

After I crossed the bridge, I pulled over to text her back.

ME: “I don’t know. How r u?”

ANYA: “Not sure. I’m sneaking out from the party tonight to meet C&D at Ahi’s in HB or SB. Wherever it is.”

ME: “Ok. Have a good time.”

I felt less tense to learn she planned to sneak out of one of the planned holiday parties as it helped me to understand better why she planned it in the first place if she was able to get away to possibly see me. An hour later, she texted me again to keep me informed.

ANYA: “I will be at Ahi’s.”

When she told me the second time, I began to sense it was her way of wanting to see if I could meet her there. I then asked her if I could talk to her for a bit as I really wanted an opportunity to ask her face to face if our relationship was about me versus her kids before I threw it all away.

ANYA: “Don’t mind but can’t promise anything. I’m a wreck.”

ME: “I’m sorry. More of a reason for me to take a chance then and head over to see you. I’m a wreck too.”

A half hour later, I walked inside Ahi’s with my eyes in search of the woman who held my heart. When I saw her there, sandwiched between both Debbie and Carolyn, I seemed to suffer the same out of body experience I did earlier. For the first time, I approached them in dread, a twisted knot inside my stomach, or maybe it was my heart, that brought back memories to the time I met them at RJ’s. A time full of hope, unlike now. I tasted anxiety when I perceived how they would respond to me if Anya had shared my apprehension with them about her holiday plans. As I saw Anya though, as a musician strung softly upon the strings of his acoustic guitar, it felt like all other sounds other than that instrument were drowned out as a sense of peace and calm suddenly washed over me, a wave of relief. I said hello to both Debbie and Carolyn as they both smiled and returned my nod. Anya then turned to them.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes.” she said to them.

I reassured she would rejoin them in that time, and then followed Anya out of the bar, as I watched the male patrons in our path check her out as we left. Outside the bar, we walked in silence, side by side, under an observant moon, and down a quiet private alley as we stopped in front of a faded white parked boat about eight yards away from where we first exited. In pain, I looked into her eyes as she drew herself into mine as I became a witness to the distress and beauty in them.

“I’ve been dreading telling you about my holiday plans for a while.” she said. “Andrew came up to me and asked if we could go skiing.”

Upon receipt of this knowledge, I felt nauseous as the tone in her voice alone told me the anxiety she felt when she made these plans without my knowledge, a worry too genuine and heartfelt to not inspire a tone of sadness.

“I don’t want you to dread telling me these things, especially if your kids aided in making them a reality.” I said. “It’s just the fact you didn’t tell me this that caught me by surprise. For the most part, I’ve been understanding. Right? Have I ever not tried to understand?”

“You’re right, babe.” she said. “I should have told you earlier, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“Just bring it up.” I said not to scold, but to ease. “Just bring it up. I’m going to try and understand because I love you too much not to. When things catch me by total surprise, I get lost in my own emotions, and I think the worst. It’s a learned behavior from my failed relationships.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” She broke away off script. “I’m confused.”

I didn’t know how to respond. How could she be confused after all we’ve shared? How could she bring us both this far to bathe in the waters of a possible mistake? If she believed us to be a mistake, after all we’ve shared, I needed to know.

“You know babe, I have to be honest with you, but if you’re seeing this as “me versus the kids”, then that’s a battle I can’t win.” I stated in exasperation. “We’re through. We’re done.”

“That’s so unfair.” She hit back.

“How is that unfair?”

“Because there’s more factors than that.”

“More factors?”

“Yes.”

“For instance?”

“I have to consider their security and well being too, Landyn.”

Fear filled me as her words singed as it made me feel like I didn’t care about either of those things. As if we just jumped into this without five months in between us. How could she suddenly be confused? Was there now something else I didn’t know beyond the skiing trip?

“I agree but don’t you have to care about your own well being too, Anya. How could you be the mother you’re supposed to be when you’re so unhappy that you’ve pursued a full blown relationship outside your marriage for over an entire year?” I said. “How is their security going to be affected, Anya? California is a no fault state, and even your husband knows you’re entitled to half. You mean to tell me that wouldn’t be enough to provide security to them? What kind of security are we talking about here because I don’t understand that, and your well-being is just as important as anyone’s.”

“You’re not a mother.” She stated coldly. “You’ll never understand.”

And she was right.

“It’s not because I’m not a mother, it’s because of why I’m in your life.” I responded. “Not that they are in any way to you, but your kids were referred to me as “baggage” when we met, and they were never introduced to me as something that would hold us back from being together. The reason I’m in your life, and you know this is true, is because your husband cheated on you. You told me all you needed was someone to be there for you because you didn’t believe anyone would accept you with your children and I’ve done nothing but prove you wrong for a year now.”

“Hmm Hmm.” she responded as desperation filled her eyes.

“What is it about me that you’ve become so concerned about their security and well-being?” I asked. “Don’t you think I want the same things for them? That me being in your life, that by me fighting for you, something you asked of me, is somehow also wanting your kids to feel insecure and to have their well being negatively affected?”

“Mothers make sacrifices for their kids, Landyn. That’s what we do.”

“But this isn’t a lone sacrifice anymore, Anya.” I corrected. “Why bring me to this point and become concerned about Katie and Andrew’s well being and security? How could you hit me with that after you’ve brought so close that I never want to fall in love again? If there was any chance of a decision to stay for the kids after we started seeing each other, and you knew that, I could never forgive you because you would turned me from a hero to homewrecker if staying was ever an option if you fell in love with me. Out of all the men, out of all the assholes out there, even after marrying one of them, how could you say that to me? How could you pit your children against me? Against us? Why did you ask me to fight for you to only end up fighting with you?”

“I’ve had my kids for thirteen years, Landyn. Thirteen years I’ve known them.” she stated. “I’ve only known you for a year! Thirteen years versus one year? How does leaving for you make any sense?”

When Anya hit me with this, it was truly the first time I didn’t feel the love in her eyes. The first time I ever felt alone since we fell.

“You’ve only known me for a year yet four months ago you told me you wanted your ashes to be put at our beach. You essentially wanted, for the rest of your life, to be on our beach after only knowing me for eight months.” I countered “I would always trail your kids in the “knowing you” department. Why would you tell me you wanted your ashes to be put on our beach if one year is so insignificant to you in regards to your kids?”

“I said it because I love you.” she said as her voice trailed off as her soft weak eyes filled with tears and sank into mine. “I love you so much.”

“Babe, if you truly love me, like you say you do.” I said as I tried to wipe her tears from her face with my thumbs. “You need to understand I’m not in your life to support your marriage. I don’t believe you should stay for the sake of the kids…period. We’ve just shared too much for me to feel differently about this and I think you need to accept what I believe to be true.”

“Huh? What’s that?” she asked meekly.

“That you don’t need me, babe.” I stated, slowly shaking my head.

“That’s not true. That’s not true at all.” she fought.

“You have everything. Why do you need me?”

“I need you as part of the human being aspect.” she said with desperation. “To feel love.”

“Don’t you think though you’re fine with the feeling though, and you can get that from any one?” I asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t need the person. All you need is the feeling.” I stated in hopelessness. “The feeling is good enough for you…and I need both, babe. I need the person and the feeling. A married person is okay with the feeling because they’re restrained by their marriage. It’s a bonus to have more than the feeling, so they are okay with falling in love for just the sake of falling in love. But there’s a difference here, a huge discrepancy between our needs. I love you, Anya, and I need you…I think I always will. But babe, you don’t need me the way I need you and until that gap is bridged, then you’ll always be confused. My heart cannot endure another trip to Europe with your husband. I’m not built for this kind of heartache and I can’t deal with the charade of your marriage to him anymore. It’s too hard on me. I love you too much and it’s brutal to have to share you with him, especially because of all you told me about him. I asked you, if you thought I was a bad thing for the kids. Do you remember what you told me?”

“I told you “no, not at all”.” she responded.

“Well, if you’re concerned about their security and well being. I must not be good for them.”

“You’re wrong, Landyn.” she shot. “I’m strong and I have to be a role model for my kids.”

I looked at her and nodded my head.

“Okay.” I told her.

Before I added that “real role models didn’t live false lives”, I decided I said enough.

“Andrew asked babe. What was I supposed to do? Was I wrong?”

“You did the right thing. That’s not in question” I said. “I just felt the way you chose to tell me about it was wrong, but I’m over it.”

“I do need you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and I’ve never loved anyone so much before. I love you.” she said as tears filled her eyes once again. “It makes me feel sad you feel that way.”

“Listen, everything I told you tonight.” I paused. “Is because I don’t want to be right about any of it.”

Her lips then found peace in mine as we shared a desperate passionate kiss as we seemed to hold the fear this could be our last embrace. As she kissed me, she found breaths within our own breathlessness to tell me she loved me several times, and I caught them each time. I also knew, now more than ever, it was all she knew. Although my feelings weakened prior to our meeting in the quiet private alley, I believed once she retreated from my arms back to Carolyn and Debbie, and back into a life she willingly spent dreaming about only a feeling, I believed this was the end. As much it pained me, I had my answer. Anya preferred to remain a perceived role model rather than a true one, and to continue living a false life instead of one glorified in truth. After all we shared, after all I became to know, I could no longer support that decision in anyway, and more importantly, I could no longer wait for my heart to be crushed any further.

That night, when I got returned home to the isolation of my lonely apartments, silence held dominion over my broken mind as I never heard back from Anya, the woman who needed me more than air. For the rest of the night, I tossed and turned in my bed as I awoke agitated by the fact I had to let her go when I wanted to be with her everyday and everywhere. I couldn’t believe the woman who claimed to be my soulmate could leave me to feel so alone.

When the morning came, I noticed as I gripped my pillow, my cell phone’s red light pulsated as I dreaded what lied within. When I found the temerity to read the message, I didn’t know what to make of it.

ANYA: “Do you hate me?”

There could be a fine line between love and hate, especially when you loved someone as much as I loved Anya, but I loved her too much to hate her. At the same time, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed she likely conspired with her husband to put together the holiday plans, as she also couldn’t deny another trip to Europe was in the works. My heart could no longer endure another trip to Europe or even another V-Day dinner with her friends. If she loved me enough to not want to hurt me, and as much as it would pain me to know the details of what she experienced with Jackson, I wanted her to incinerate my heart and turn it into ashes if she had to. I stood for the truth, and my biggest pet peeve in life was dishonest people yet here I was, in the most dishonest of situations. I trusted someone’s love for me would alter that landscape, yet she still didn’t know if she could cultivate it. As the greatest of sorrow bludgeoned my mind, I wanted her kids to go skiing and I wanted her to be there with them. I’d rather her break my heart then theirs, but I felt so strongly for her now, her plans were impossible to not be hurt by. Maybe I was being unfair to her? Maybe “betrayal” was too strong of a word to define her planned skiing trip? As I tried to make sense of the mess inside my head, maybe one of my own making, she texted me again.

ANYA: “Ok. I won’t bother you anymore but can u at least tell me u got home ok last nite so I don’t worry? Just one word? I’m hurting like you wouldn’t believe. I love you.”

Anya’s pain. Anya’s worry. Always trumped my own.

ME: “I’m sorry. I had my phone off. I made it home ok. I’m hurting really bad as well. I love you too.”

As morning turned into afternoon not a single word came from Anya, and it left me unsure how to feel as a new wave of emptiness swelled inside. At around three, she ended her silence before I ended mine.

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ANYA: “Idk why it has to be this way.”

ME: “It’s so tough. Ur my best friend. The absolute love of my life. You’re the only thing that truly makes me happy in this world. What other way can it be? We r both hurting. I’ve never felt this sad in my life, and I’m more worried about you. I love you more than life itself. I don’t want to lose you, but did you even really want to see me last night?”

As upset as I was with her the previous evening, her pain made me rethink my own agony as a life without her brought an agony all its own.

ANYA: “What? I was thrilled that u drove up! Just don’t know why we have to have tension. It’s not like I met someone new. I’m still doing what I do w/my kids.”

I didn’t like the tension between us as well, but my feelings were now more advanced than ever, and I was super sensitive to every little thing she did, as evidenced by the holiday plans she made. If that bothered me, other things certainly would. I could only surmise that the reason she didn’t know was because she didn’t know if her feelings were strong enough to be with me. A perception that left me to not feel unwanted, but not needed. Anya had everything she needed at home, and if she truly felt she could have any guy she wanted, she could find love elsewhere and anywhere. I was her “soulmate”, but don’t soulmates know? Soulmates don’t try, soulmates do. I was led to believe she needed me, and not just my love. I guess that’s what hurt more than anything; the realization I was not needed.

ME: “Babe, don’t you feel that all I do is fill a void in your marriage and that is the feeling of being in love? You don’t need me babe. You have been living without it for years. I guess I just feel that you enjoy the feeling and you want the person, but you don’t need the person. For me, it’s different. I want the feeling and the person because I need them both. One cannot exist without the other for me. It’s a very painful thing for me to accept that you just don’t need me like I need you.”

ANYA: “Easy for you to say. I guess I don’t need you if I don’t ever need love again.”

I couldn’t believe what she sent me as it touched me deeply with a healing power all its own.

ME: “I want you to have love. That’s why I’m here.”

ANYA: “I don’t know the definition of “soulmate”. I think u just know when you’re hit with it. We just know. I miss u, I love u.”

ME: “I agree. I miss u, I love u too.”

After our textchange I revamped my destructive thinking to find trust in her words as I began to feel bad for the way I reacted to her holiday plans. I would have wanted her to make them, but I guess how close we’ve grown over the last month, a huge part of me wanted to believe she could never make them and when I learned she did, I felt betrayed. But was I truly betrayed? I wouldn’t want her to shake up her kids before the holidays or deny them a family skiing trip. I wouldn’t want the holidays to change from what they’re used to. Andrew wanted to go skiing, and he should go. It just broke my heart too, and I went in defense mode to protect it out of fear, as it became second nature to do so after my relationship with Denise. After we aired our thoughts out through electronic transmission, I understood better about why they were made, and decided to let it go.

Later that evening, Anya sent me another text, as I felt her love come through to me from so far away.

ANYA: “I miss u.”

ME: “I miss u too.”

ANYA: “R we still ok?”

ME: “I apologize, babe. I am just so in love with you. It’s hard to rein in the emotions. I try the best I can. You’re my heart, my dreams, my hope and my love. We’re ok.”

ANYA: “I know. Ur all I know now and it’s hard for me too. I long to be close to you every minute of the day. I love you.”

ME: “I long to love you the way you should be and deserve to be loved. We’ll get through this. Our love is truly forever and we’ll see what happens. You never know.”

ANYA: “As bad as it was yesterday, it was good. If that makes any sense.”

ME: “I agree babe.”

ANYA: “You never know. Goodnight. Forever babe.”

ME: “Forever.”

I realized on this night no matter how hard she tried, she could never give me up as much as I could never give her up. Besides Katie and Andrew, I was all her heart had. Mitch told me if I met someone else, she would probably leave, but I didn’t want to play games. I didn’t want to hurt her, but at the same time I couldn’t imagine having genuine enough feelings to date anyone else as they were impossible to fake.

The next morning, with a brave heart, I reached out to her to tell her I missed her.

ANYA: “I miss you too. Ready for the week? I have a busy week.”

I historically assumed she had a “busy week” ahead of her, as she seemed to always have them regardless of the time of year. My heart didn’t need an unsubtle reminder there would be no chance to see her this week as a gap widened between us. Later that afternoon, with the hope in my heart I might be able to see her for a little while, based upon she had “spills” with the girls at the mall near my place lately, I unsubtly mentioned I would be home from work early this Friday evening. I didn’t have to wait long for her response.

ANYA: “Friday is my company party.”

ME: “Oh! Okay!”

Even such an innocuous response sensitized me to everything as my feelings had grown beyond I could have imagined. Our closeness over the last month allowed me to feel the bad as sharply as the good, and it caused my weakened heart to wage battle against a strengthened mind on an hourly basis. In the past, I’d have my bout with worry once a month, maybe every few weeks, but now I felt it all much sooner. And Anya could feel my deterioration as my determination faltered to hide it from her.

ANYA: “I love you Landyn.”

ME: “I love you too.”

At this point in our relationship, with a firestorm of feelings for her, anything she did for Jackson and everything she did surrounded by people who believed their union was beautiful and meant to be, brutalized me inside to imagine. Any solitary thing she did to build the Jackson brand, something I was told would change if I “swept her off her feet”, she seemed to build upon even more, and as much as I tried to fight it, I couldn’t deny I felt deceived. Even though I knew she loved me, how could I feel this way? I didn’t want to give her any grief about the Christmas party, and when I viewed it as she was doing it only for the security and well being of her kids, I found it tolerable. In the same breath however, it also told me she felt they would lose their security and well-being being with me, and any feelings I had to the contrary were irrational, selfish and false. I struggled to further hide from her my promotion in June, the one that would provide all the security in the world to the kids and at least assuage their well being, but for some reason, one that only eluded me, she didn’t see things that way. She would also get half of Jackson’s wealth, so how could that not help with their security and well being as well? And how could their well being not be affected when their own mother’s well being is in question? Did Anya truly value or love as much as I did? I had a good career, and a lot of good things going for me. Her arguments only represented excuses to me because how could having a man like myself in their lives negatively affect their security and well being? Sure, there would be challenges in the beginning but if she truly loved me, how could fear roost? What reasons did I ever give her not to trust me? Fear and love couldn’t coexist. She had to believe everything would be all right in the end. To trust in love, especially ours. For the sake of separation of love and fear, she had to believe that much. Anya would come into the best possible situation with me. A man who understood and loved her enough to be willing to take a back seat and allow her to make her kids feel safe and to understand her decision. She needed to teach her kids that all because parents didn’t love each other anymore, did not mean they were unloved. I felt it would be harder to get a child under ten to understand that, but not teenagers who looked more to their friends now than their parents at that age. I knew these were real challenges for Anya, and I think they were worthy of concern, but she had something most people didn’t who left their marriages; she had me.

I never heard back from her for the rest of the day, and since she had a busy week, I decided not to contact her. It was a challenge to share sixty texts throughout the day to just six, and although I chose to not let her holiday plans affect me, I couldn’t deny they did. I vowed after Denise broke my heart to never allow myself to fall hard for anyone again, to be the strong one in the relationship so if things didn’t work out, I’d at least be able to move on a little quicker. For me to fall as hard as I did for Anya, it took not only an act from a higher power, but a ton of trust in her love and her pain. Anya even knew the reason I left her when we first met was because I felt something as feelings and emotions meant more than money. I knew where true happiness came from, and I don’t think a soul would tell you on their death bed they wished they had spent more time in the office. I knew falling in love was a risk for anyone, and maybe in this situation the risk was greater, but I trusted all Anya told me. Even as I questioned it, I still trusted in her love. Like a bridge, I trusted her love to hold up on my journey across, but I also knew it could possibly collapse. She convinced me in her love so much, I never considered a collapse regardless of the threat. Like a bridge’s strong safety record, I saw and felt her love, even as the connection swayed from time to time. The belief Anya would assess her truth one day, and figure out a way to stabilize the bridge, kept hope alive.

My silence seemed to pay off as the next day, Anya texted me.

ANYA: “Curious. Were you this attentive with all your ex’s?”

Before I could respond, I had to assess what she meant. Did she mean “attentive” or did she mean “sensitive” to the things me exes said or did? To be “attentive” would suggest I cared enough to see how they’re doing throughout the day. But “attentive” could also mean I took things they did or said to heart, the good and the bad.

ME: “I would say no just because I never felt the way I did for them than I do for you. Does it surprise you I’m the attentive type? How r u?”

ANYA: “No, doesn’t surprise me that you are. Just never experienced it before to this extent. I’m good. I so miss u.”

After I read her response I wondered if she thought Jackson loved her as much, or even more than I did. That she still believed a person, who cheated on someone several times, knew what love truly was. I hoped she my attentiveness existed only because I truly loved her. I truly cared how her day was going, and to know about even simplest things, like what she had for breakfast. But was that now a bad thing? Was I now under judgment because I cared too much? My pain was due to this leap of faith I took in trusting Anya’s love for me. Although a stronger mind prevailed now due to my past experiences with women, I still possessed a weak heart, a quality I looked to improve upon after Denise left me. I just didn’t know, out of the two, what burdened me the most. My mind was hesitant and cognizant to things that hurt me in the past, but my heart remained stubborn and free now as the greatest love I ever knew consumed me as it spoke to my mind, “I know what I’m doing. This is different. This is love.”.

You had to rely on your heart more than your mind if you are to have the love you’re hoping to find. And I’ve come too far and grew too wise to know what we both faced without each other.

ME: “I miss you too. No one has ever been attentive to me than you, and that inspires me to return it, more than you’re used to.”

ANYA: “Cuz we love and respect each other mutually.”

At the very least, she knew I loved and respected her, and there was no doubt in my mind Anya did for me too, but were the reasons the same as mine? Was it done out of fear or done out of love?

I texted her later that afternoon, but Anya asked me to call. We talked very briefly as she shared with me Katie’s pending high school decision and informed she would wait for me to get the second “Twilight” book so we could read it together. Her voice soothed my soul like a cool breeze on a scorched earth day as I feared now to learn anything that could cause anxiety. We usually talked on the phone later in the evening, at the same time I tried to unwind from the fatigue and stress from work I hid as I feared an incongruent disastrous response if I got hurt by something she said. Something that also usually brought with it a sleepless night. As she did more things for their marriage during this holiday season, it made it harder to understand why she still shared the same bed with Jackson. Denise left me for someone else as I vowed to never find myself again in a situation where I thought about someone I had deep feelings for who had the probability to experience intimacy with another. I trusted all Anya told me about Jackson, yet I was still left to imagine her lying beside another man, and the most agonizing truth; she would never tell me what happened between them, and what transpired that led to their intimacy. They also shared the bond of two children together I couldn’t compete with which made my thoughts even more harrowing as I literally found myself caught in between, what had to be, heaven and hell. On a daily basis, more so than ever before, the less I felt her closeness, the further into hell I fell as I found it harder to get back to heaven.

Early the following morning, Anya sent me a text to clarify something.

ANYA: “About our convo last night, my friend hired a college counselor to map out her kid’s high school classes including AP classes and electives. I know it sounds crazy but I have a counselor for Katie already.”

ME: “I don’t think that sounds crazy at all. I wish my parents have been that proactive with me.”

Career guidance was important for a child to have in their teens. They could get distracted and pulled into so many directions, and opt for careers that were either “cool” or unrealistic. For years, I wanted to play in the NBA, and my mother supported the dream, which I found a loving gesture, but the reality was this; I was five foot eight, and if women judged me by my height, what would NBA scouts likely to do? You could be quick and light on your feet, but your speed and stamina had to be superior to excel in the NBA, especially at my height. I had a decent shot, but it was pretty much a set shot, and I needed to be a jump shooter, but my feet seemed to be nailed to the ground. I also played a lot of baseball, and I used to turn a game around with my defense alone. One time I made a spectacular catch in left field that preserved the win for my team to get us in the playoffs. When we faced the same team in the championship game, they apparently were haunted by my catch as the coach made their best hitters bat left handed the entire game because they knew our worst fielder played in right, and the beat us for the championship as the strategy worked. My glove, and even my bat, could alter a team’s game plan and because of it, almost every baseball team I ever played for either went to the playoffs or championship game. I clearly had a much better chance to make it to the majors than I did to the NBA, but I still chose unwisely not to play high school baseball because I thought the NBA would be the wiser option. To make my decision even worse, I played an exhibition baseball game after I graduated high school, and the other team’s pitcher was someone who was in the Double-A St. Louis Cardinals farm system; just two steps away from the major leagues. He had four pitches and nasty stuff. The day of the exhibition game, I hit everything he threw at me, and went three for three against him with solid hard hits to every area in the field. Even prompted him to approach me after the game and ask what level in the minors I was at and for which organization. Years later he got called up and although his career got derailed by Tommy John surgery, he made my decision more regrettable. With better guidance at an early age, not that I blamed my parents for anything as my mother never finished past the 8th grade and my Dad never went to college, I would have a better chance at being on the right path. I didn’t think Anya’s decision to get a counselor for Katie before she finished junior high was extremely intuitive and smart, and I really admired how she, and even Jackson, respected the importance of education and the need to focus on the right career path so Katie could live life with little or no regrets. It was a competitive “dog eat dog world” out there, and they needed to be prepared now than ever before to survive.

For most of the day I attended a continuing education class for my CPA license. I had to have twenty hours of CPE per year to maintain my license as this course gave me eight hours. The course instructor was a blonde haired, overweight woman in about her forties. Accounting classes were not the most fun to sit through for eight hours as you pretty much counted down to the first break the minute you sat down, but my instructor kept it interesting and even humorous. She then passed out a bucket of candy left over from Halloween to the class, as she asked us to choose two then pass it over, if we wanted. This older gentleman, probably in his early sixties who I sat next to, leaned over to me.

“It looks like she’s eating the candy.” he said.

“It looks like you’re an asshole.” I responded.

I knew tried to connect with me as to make class more interesting, but when I noticed his own appearance and his chrome dome, I wondered how he could judge someone so cruelly without any consideration of his own looks. I almost said, “too bad it’s only candy she’s passing out and not toupees, but then there would be nothing left for anyone else after it reached you” but decided not to sink to his level. After my comment, he didn’t say another word to me and after lunch grabbed his materials and sat near someone else in the room. In the past, I probably would have laughed with him and encouraged further conversation, but meeting Anya, and knowing how she chose a man for all the wrong reasons, just made his comment rub me the wrong way as I found it immature. False perceptions and judgments of others made me sick as I expected more from a sixty year old man who seemed to forget how imperfect he was. When lunch broke out, Anya texted me to see how my class was going. I then told her about the man’s comment about our heavy set teacher, and what I said.

ANYA: “Awww how sweet r u! I just love you!”

ME: “Some people just never grow up. I thought it was a childish remark without taking into consideration his own shortcomings. I would say they make a good couple, but I think she’s too good for him.”

Not only did I talk to Anya, I also didn’t have to worry about going into work as this class felt like an extension of my vacation. When my class wrapped up, I texted Anya to learn shopping was on her task list.

ME: “You must be exhausted.”

ANYA: “Never too tired for shopping! Actually I’m ok cuz I have to be on for my kids. K is really sick.”

Her shopping habits worried me as it led me to wonder if the high of being able to shop on a whim was one of the reasons for her concern for the security and well being of her kids. Was this about their financial security more than their actual physical security? Why were they referred to me as “baggage” when the truth appeared to be that she cared about their security and well being? This concern and many more she shared had to be in place over eighteen months ago and had to be the reason things didn’t work out with Lance. Anya blamed Lance, even myself, for breaking her heart but how could she tell either of us such a thing when a year later I’m being told she is now there because she is concerned about the security and well being of her kids? I found that hard to not take personal because she never mentioned it when we met. Not that she didn’t care, but why not mention it to me so my heart would know what to expect?

Like the previous four nights, more silence ensued on this one. As if we had just met and never shared or experienced a thing together. I knew she had to do things for the holidays. I knew she had to be “on” but how was it so easy for her to flip a switch I didn’t have access to because I loved her so much? How could she continue on with her life as if I didn’t exist in it? How could she feel anything close to what I did for her and be able to send me just five texts over the last four days? I began to feel more than ever the difference between being “in love” and “loving” someone. I didn’t want Anya to neglect her kids, and I wanted her to do what she needed to do during the holiday season for them as I didn’t want Jackson to monitor her every move, but at the same time, how could she take someone so far, allow their feelings to grow so much, then not scale back the holiday plans when she could? It seemed like she was completely oblivious to her role in our relationship. I tried not to hold this against her, I loved her and I cared for her, but it was hard not to consider these things when I couldn’t deny how much this hurt me. Since it felt like she conspired against me to make the holiday plans, it made me ponder what did she do for Jackson that curbed his suspicion? Did she have sex with him and tell him all the things he needed to hear to still believe she wasn’t seeing someone? After this holiday season, I knew I couldn’t tolerate the dishonesty anymore. I trusted she was an honest genuine person and the only reason she lived a lie was because no one would be there for her if she didn’t. To ask me to quit her at this point was like asking a paraplegic to get out of his wheelchair and walk again, or someone to breathe again after they were shot in the heart. Anya told me things and shared herself in such an intimate way, it allowed me to trust her enough to allow my feelings to grow. How could I possibly go back to the life I knew before her? A life that no longer existed. How could she think after all we’ve shared I should just shut it all off and move on, and if I wasn’t able to do so, there was something wrong with me. She asked me to fight for her and I did, every waking moment and even in my sleep when I got some. I even continued to do so and for that alone, how could she leave me hanging like this with only my understanding in the mix? I didn’t want to tell her how this made me feel because I didn’t want her to feel an obligation to text me. I wouldn’t think it was genuine if she did; her texts only prompted because her silence hurt me. I just knew when she returned from her skiing trip, I had to get to the bottom of her true intentions because I now felt I wasn’t good enough for her kids to know one day, my pockets more shallow than Jackson’s.

The tenth day of December fell on a Wednesday and I got a text from Anya late that morning.

ANYA: “Busy day? I miss your kiss baby. I’m going to a BUNCO game at a neighbor’s house tonight. I can get away at around 3ish though before I go. Can you call me later?”

ME: “I miss your kiss too. Yes, I’ll give you a call around 3ish. How is Katie feeling?”

ANYA: “She’s feeling better. Thanks for asking. Have a good day! Talk to you later. Love u!”

ME: “Love u too!”

I feared our phone calls now as questions circled my mind like war planes set out to attack my heart with bombs as I feared I may break. I didn’t want to say anything to put fear in her heart, but her holiday plans got the best of me. In full fatigue mode due to a lack of sleep, the added stress didn’t help, blinded by even the good things she did that showed her love for me.

When I called, her cell phone rang a few times before it went to voicemail, and I decided not to leave a message simply because of who might get it if he nosed around. I couldn’t help but notice it was the first time she didn’t pick up as she usually did on the first ring. I told her I would call around “three-ish” so I had to cut her some slack. About five minutes later my cell phone started to ring though as I wasted no time in answering.

“Hi Stranger!” I said excitedly

“Hey babe! Sorry I missed your call. I had my music on when the phone rang and didn’t hear it!”

“No problem! I figured you’d call me back if you saw I called.”

As she told me about how busy she was lately, and what her and the girls were planning to do this weekend, I felt more lost as she didn’t seem to be hurting or missing me at all, contrary to how she made me feel earlier. It’s not that I wanted her to be hurting or missing me, but at least it would validate all the missing and hurt I felt. She relayed her friends planned a birthday party for her at Duke Palmer’s Restaurant, in the mall by my house, this upcoming Sunday evening and she could see me beforehand. I then remembered last year at this time, before we started really seeing each other, she told me she met up with Lance, the Josh Groban slash Domingo protégé, with her friends for her birthday dinner in L.A. She told me he was scheduled to fly out of LAX at ten that evening and decided to meet her and her friends for dinner before he flew out. It didn’t bug me at the time, but now, after the holiday madness consumed her enough to go missing from my life, it made me question the depth of her love for me, because I couldn’t understand why she would cut me like this.

“I have a question for you.” I stated.

“Sure.”

“How was Lance able to meet you and your friends for your birthday party dinner last year at Spagos, without arousing any suspicion that you were or have been dating him?”

“Well, he’s an entertainer and the whole group knew him.” she explained. “but they didn’t suspect anything was going on between us.”

“Really? They didn’t have a clue?” I asked.

“What would make you think they did?”

“Weren’t they at the same party when he sang “Happy birthday” to you?”

“Yes, they were.”

“I don’t understand.” I said more perplexed.

“What don’t you understand?”

“You told me your husband was jealous because he sang “Happy birthday” to you. You said he usually doesn’t do that for free and that’s what made him suspicious.” I continued. “If that was the case, that he doesn’t do that for free, wouldn’t the group wonder the same thing?”

“What are you getting at?” she asked.

“Lance wasn’t performing at Spago’s that night, right?”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“Then why wouldn’t your friends be suspicious he decided to show up for “your” birthday dinner?” I said to drive my point home. “Why would your husband be suspicious but your friends wouldn’t be? Him coming to your birthday dinner wasn’t a little suspicious to them?”

“Where are you going with this, Landyn?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

I wanted to tell her exactly where I was going with this. Why was Lance accepted around her friends, but I wasn’t? Why was I only worthy of a short visit before dinner but Lance could be right by her side? Did I have to be a publicly admired figure to be accepted into her group? Was it my lack of “popularity” and “financial prowess allure” the reason she chose to now make me aware of the security and well being of her children? Was this why I was made to suffer through her holiday plans, and every other excuse she made? Would her friends only accept her leaving Jackson for someone of greater or equal celebrity status? I was on the verge of throwing us all away the more I thought about this, but instead I opted for the reason I felt all I did.

“I’m missing you, Anya.” I said. “I’m just really missing you. I’m not used to missing people in my life. I don’t know how to handle this.”

“It’s the same for me but I have to be “on””. she said.

As much as I tried to understand, but it didn’t seem she missed me at all. When she told me about her birthday party, I couldn’t see the fact she would forgo doing something she loved to do, like shopping, in order to see me before her party, and she probably only chose the venue because of its proximity to me. The truth was she had to be “on”, she wasn’t lying about that, but she shouldn’t have allowed me to feel so much for her if she had to ever turn us “off”. I knew after these holidays passed, my heart wouldn’t be able to go through them again. I tried to bargain with myself; “next year, after my promotion, things would be different”. That this despair was only a temporary even though there appeared to be hard truths on the horizon.

“I understand.” I said.

“I’ve known these neighbors for like ten to fifteen years and if I don’t show up they will think I’m depressed.” she said.

“They would?”

“Yes.”

“I see.”

“Just business as usual” I thought to myself. If she cared what only her neighbors thought of her and that she’s known them for ten to fifteen years, wouldn’t she also care too much for what they might think if she were to leave Jackson? Again, her “sum of years” thing seemed to be her way of measuring the importance of people in her life. Not by the way they make her feel but by how many years she’s known them. How could she even refer to me as her “best friend” after only over a year, but yet somehow what her neighbors thought was more important to her? Although my heart didn’t understand, my mind told me I had to try.

“When you want to call me on the phone, is it because you feel bad or because you’re in love with me?” I asked.

“I want to tell you I miss you and I love you.” she said. “I want to hear it from you too. It helps me feel safer. I prefer the phone over text and I love to hear your voice too.”

“Okay.” I responded.

I felt a lot better after I heard her response, I just didn’t know how much longer I could hide how the things she did affected me. I then told her I had to go as I wanted to end things on a good note before something else broke me down. After we ended our call with a reciprocal “I love you”, she texted me just minutes after.

ANYA: “U ok?”

ME: “I’m ok. I’m sorry if I upset you. My feelings are just so much more advanced for you now than they were at this time last year.”

ANYA: “It’s ok. I understand. So are mine for you. It’s crazy. Are you more sad now than you were before you met me?”

ME: “Sometimes I am, but I’m also happier than I’ve ever been too.”

ANYA: “I miss u.”

ME: “I miss u too.”

I didn’t understand how she could love me the way she had knowing she had kids and everything else going on in her life without any consideration how strong my feelings would grow for her. It led me to believe that’s all she ever wanted from me; to feel loved, but she took my life by doing so, and it wasn’t right I was left to feel paralyzed while she lived life to the fullest because of the love I gave her when I made it perfectly clear in the beginning of our relationship I walked away because I didn’t want to fill a void. Anya told me what she felt was true love. Was it only true love because she knew I didn’t have anything to offer her like Lance and Jackson did, and therefore no stress and no pressure? Was it really true love or was it because I gave her something no man in his right mind would give her in this situation? She told me her feelings for me were “crazy”. Would it not be crazy if I too had a twenty eight foot island in my kitchen? Did she view me as someone of considerable less stature than her husband and was ashamed of her love for me because of what others, neighbors and her circle of friends, might think if she left him? Was that what made her love “crazy” for me?

The truth was this; I now began to lose trust in her, and the things she told me were now replaced by the things she withheld from me. I shouldn’t have to ask her questions about her life since I didn’t really know enough about her life and how decisive they were to ask about them. Did parents who viewed themselves as “role models” for their children only are because they lie to them? Anya told me one time she wished I would force her to make a decision, and the more pain she gave me, I felt purposely and the less trust I began to have in her, the more I felt forced to do just that.

I wished her a “Goodnight” and never heard back from her. The next day, the eleventh day of December, we exchanged one text in which she told me her daughter was torn about her choice of high school, as she visited the one the previous day, most of her friends were going to.

ANYA: “She had her friends around her last night. She’s sooo torn. I feel sorry for her. She’s been up since 3 am so I didn’t work out this morning.”

I didn’t understand why Anya surrounded her daughter with so much drama as it left me to feel like Katie was on “Beverly Hills 90210”. I could understand the drama around a choice for college but high school? I felt Anya and Jackson already made up Katie’s mind for her so why would she go against the wishes of her parents? If Katie truly was the sole decision maker, what role did her parents truly play in her life? Did kids usually have their choice of high schools? Maybe I was out of touch, but this seemed bizarre to me because why would any parent want their children to go to a known party high school over one that required academic excellence that she was accepted to? Katie was too young to drive, so wouldn’t it truly be up to her parents to decide which high school they wanted her to go to?

I didn’t hear from Anya the morning of the twelfth day of December, as she usually responded in the morning to a “goodnight” text. As I sat in my CPE class, the final eight hour session of the week, I never felt so uneasy about my emotions and I had to step out several times and try to focus on the subject material instead of the silence of the conduit I used to feel close to her. I tried not to penalize Anya for all I felt. Not only was it the holiday season but Katie was in the middle of her high school selection, and I felt selfish about all my emotions even under the distress of the moment. On top of all that, Katie fell ill during the week, as I started to feel I wasn’t being fair to Anya. Not only that, today was her Company’s Christmas party as well, an event she put together for the most part. If I could find a way to look at this under Anya’s light, then I could stave off the negative emotions as there was more truth in those things than the ones I asked her about on the phone. When my phone’s red light finally blinked at four forty one p.m., I started to rebuild and emerge from the ship I wrecked with my mind.

ANYA: “Thinking of u.”

ME: “Thinking of you, too.”

Usually at times I heard from her this late, I feared the worst, but this time around I felt relieved as her text built up the positive thoughts I mustered before class ended.

After work, I decided to shop at the mall by my house. Actually, any “shopping” I did at the mall only meant trying to get out of my apartment and doing something other than wasting away on a bed. These days I found myself though, when there were little people around, in front of the windows of the jewelry shops as I tried to imagine how pretty things would look on her. It was hard not to dream about being able to walk into a jewelry shop confidently with the intent to get her something she could wear from me. For someone who made me so happy if she left her marriage, I would only want to return the favor. It would be more fun to have her with me, to let her choose whatever she wanted, and to see the smile on her face when she put it on. I dreamt about moments such as those a lot. Just us, in our own little world, in a nice jewelry store as we looked to build on the one we made together.

I didn’t think twice about spending money on someone I loved. To me, money was something we needed to survive in this world, but feelings, those were more precious to me, and any investment I made of them in someone were of much greater value. I’d rather a woman take me for my money than my feelings. Anya texted me about an hour later to see what I was up to, and when I told her I was shopping, her response caught me by surprise.

ANYA: “R u shopping or “waiting for someone?”

ME: “Flora? Is this you?”

ANYA: “Maybe.”

ME: “The only person I’d ever wait for is you, babe.”

ANYA: “I was kidding.”

ME: “Ok good because Flora just left. JK!”

ANYA: “Maybe she took off cuz she didn’t want to see that “person” u were waiting for?”

ME: “Haha! Well, too bad. She’d be sh*t out of luck!”

Anya’s texts caught me by surprise in a good way as there seemed to be a hint of jealousy within them, but what I loved about them is that she seemed to question me the way I did about Lance. They made me feel better simply because maybe my questions surrounding Lance was as absurd and untrue as her questioning about Flora? Although, the difference between Lance and Flora was I never had a “passionate relationship” with Flora, but either way I loved to see she cared. She could be a nagging girlfriend because I couldn’t be a non-nagging boyfriend from time to time. I loved her too much and I could never shut off the hurt it caused me if she loved another man.

Maybe my talk with her the other night made her wonder if I could be seeing someone else? Maybe she could sense I’m breaking down? The truth was, she was less likely to see someone else because she was married, but I wasn’t and maybe this worried her because I had more freedom than she did, and if things she did bothered me, then maybe she feared I would get fed up and start dating someone else without telling her? That maybe because of this true freedom, my loyalty I should come into question more than hers? I just never saw things this way because there simply was no one else, and unlike Jackson’s “love” for her, I knew from a life of loneliness, the love I felt for Anya there could be no replacement for.

The next morning, I texted her to see how she was doing, as I feared she feared I chose to see someone else because of the lack of communication over the past five days.

ANYA: “Hi, just got out. No, I don’t usually run. We workout at his gym and only run when we have a race to train for. No way you’d be fine in Yoga. Its fail proof!”

ME “Oh, trust me. There’s no way I’d be successful at Yoga. I am completely inflexible as I am impervious. I’d put your fail proof theory to the ultimate test. I’d be better off just laying down on the mat and listen to the music.”

ANYA: “No way they don’t play music!”

ME “If they ask me to move my leg anywhere it would probably break! Then I’d destroy all that class Zen when the ambulance sirens destroy the silence.”

ANYA: “Ha! U and ur mind! You probably think we hold our legs over our heads too!”

ME “Pretty much! That’s what I think is going on in Yoga and if you can’t do that basic pose, you’re out!”

ANYA: “Ha! You’re too much!”

ME “You weren’t upset with me last night, were you?”

ANYA: “No not at all! Where is this coming from?”

ME “I thought maybe you were bummed out I was at the mall last night, that’s all.”

ANYA: “No not at all. Was making Andrew his dinner. Still sick.”

ME “Oh, I didn’t know Andrew caught the bug too. I’m sorry. Hope he feels better soon.”

After our morning cup of textversation, I didn’t hear back from her for the rest of the evening, and for the life of me I couldn’t understand why as her silence only bred more negativity within. At around eight that evening, paralyzed in the shell of a person I used to know, I texted Anya to see how she was doing.

ANYA: “Sorry at the boat parade w/the kids and I can’t find Andrew.”

ME: “No need to apologize, babe. I’m sorry to hear you’ve lost him.”

Her text rained down worry upon me as I didn’t know if she asked for my help or not, but her text suggested a state of panic. I waited at my apartment for twenty minutes and then sent her a text to follow-up.

ME: “Did you find him, babe?”

When I didn’t hear back from her a half hour later, worry began to consume me beyond inaction as I felt the situation was seriousness enough for me to get in my car and drive to the boat parade to try to find someone I’ve never met but hoped to someday, her son.