“All night buzz on a line
It’s only blood on the rime
Wrecks my head every time
It leads me on.”
~ “Alibi” David Gray
ANYA: “Woke up to the sound of the rain. No running and no gym for me this morning. Paralyzed. No desire to get out of bed. Miss u.”
My beautiful lady and her wounded heart broke my own at five eighteen that morning, a Monday school holiday. Her early text made me wonder where Jackson was. Did he get up early as well? How was she able to hide her deep sadness from him? Could he not see what she went through? Wouldn’t he wonder why she was still in bed?
ME: “I’m so sorry beautiful. Whenever it rains, I just want to stay in bed and think about you. I wish I didn’t have to work today. Going to be a hard day for me. I miss you so much.”
ANYA: “Please be careful driving into work.”
ME: “I will babe. I’m here for you. Remember we’re one.”
If I had any plans to save her, I had to be strong for her. I had to be there for her even as my own heart ached. I loved her to pieces and her texts worried me and left me unconcerned for my own brokenness. It never made me feel better to read of Anya’s pain and made me forget my own. As much as I didn’t want her to suffer, a part of me needed to see this too. If she could just jump right back into her prior life seamlessly, as if I never existed, I would never recover from the pain, and even feel deceived, and this made feel a bit two faced. I truly never wanted her to suffer, I loved her more than air, but I really needed to believe in her love right now more than ever, and I needed to believe in us. Her texts hurt me, but also gave me comfort at the most crucial time of our relationship. I knew if we survived Katie’s hiccup, we would make it.
Before I could get out of my car as I pulled into the office parking lot, Anya sent me her heart once more.
ANYA: “I love you. Think I’m going to stay in bed today. So out of character. I hope my kids don’t worry. They are off today.”
ME: “I love you too, but Sweetheart this doesn’t make me feel any better. Please get out of bed and try to enjoy your day with the kids. I don’t want them to worry about you.”
ANYA: “I wish we could both stay in bed holding eachother until we stop hurting. You’re still my best friend. Kids r asleep. I like when they sleep b/c they need it.”
ME: “I would kiss your entire body I miss you so much. I would give anything to feel your skin against mine right now. I wish I could hold you forever. So many times, when we’re together I imagine if my life were to end with you in my arms, I could not think of a better way to leave this world. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
ANYA: “Forever would pass by so quickly with you. I’d let you kiss my entire body.”
ME: “You would feel my love with every kiss. Forever wouldn’t be long enough for me, I’d want more time. I’ve never met anyone even remotely close to someone like you.”
ANYA: “Me too. Never known anyone like you.”
ME: “I’m still here babe. I don’t want you to feel lonely and sad. I need you to be strong for your kids and for me too. Ok? We still have each other in some way shape or form. I love you.”
ANYA: “Thank you. I appreciate that. You don’t know how much that means to me that I still have you in some shape or form. I love you forever.”
ME: “I love you forever. If you’re in pain, then my pain is a lot worse.”
ANYA: “I know babe.”
After I ended our exchange, I realized my temerity was incredibly bold as I couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. I wept in my car for our sadness, that a love so special had to go through so much turmoil and struggle. Why did something I gave so much of myself to be this difficult? The more I heard her cry, the more I learned of her struggle. the more I realized I couldn’t let her give up on us. I was the one who saw her unhappiness and new it intimately. Carolyn and Debbie didn’t see it, her best friend did, and if I couldn’t fight for her happiness, then who else could? I know I needed a miracle to stymie all the emotions I had, and it’s why I broke down. I needed the Universe’s help in the matter as I felt it gave up on us to allow Anya to learn of her daughter’s struggles. In Anya’s sadness however, I only received more signs from her to cling to her unhappiness at home, and find a way to bring an end to our relationship, if not our love.
I loved her too much to allow her to live a false life for the rest of her life. I believed in love, an in our love, anything was possible, including Anya’ happiness and the coexistence of her kids’ happiness. Change was indeed necessary for growth, as spoken by a true scholar with wisdom beyond her age, and newly reluctant teen, Katie Caiaphas, Anya’s beautiful daughter who I admired from a far. I knew her better than her own father did so how did that not stand for something special? How could this not all work out in the end between us? I wanted nothing but the best for both Katie and Andrew so how could our love ever hurt them? I just wasn’t convinced we were through. Not yet. Not after all we’ve shared. If we passed this test, we would pass any test. Yes, this was our greatest challenge but Anya combined the word “each” and “other” for a reason; because she knew as well as I did that with “eachother” we were unstoppable.
After I sucked up my tears, and waited until my eyes looked somewhat normal, I ventured upstairs and sat in my office with a new outlook and renewed hope for us. I loved us too much to give up on us. To even believe for a second she wanted me to give up. And while I sat in my office as I prepared for the emotional fight within and ahead of me, Clyde appeared at my door to take my mind away from myself.
“Good morning, Landyn.” he said. “Do you mind if I come in?”
“Good morning, Clyde. Please.” I responded as I rose from my chair and he closed my office door and sat down.
“How are things?” he asked.
“Personally?” I asked.
“Overall.” he clarified.
“Things are going well. Thankfully I’ve gotten off to a better start on engagement planning this year as opposed to last year due to the extra business we’ve taken on.”
“You’re not feeling overburdened at all?” he asked.
“Not at all.”
“Well then, Jackson Caiaphas is heading a symposium on best commercial real estate practices and is also presenting a market outlook. I thought it would be a good idea to have you go to represent the firm.” he said.
“Absolutely. I would love to attend.” I said startled as I tried to hide my discomfort from Clyde. “What’s the attire?”
“I would think it best to wear a suit to the event. Dinner will also be served.”
“May I ask why Kevin is not going, Clyde? After all, he is the lead manager on the CPG engagement.”
“I’m having you both go. Together.” he clarified. “I thought it would be good for you since you’ve taken on a couple new commercial real estate clients. It should help you with the audit planning stage and I’d like to maintain a good relationship between you and Mr. Caiaphas.”
“Certainly. That makes sense.” I responded the only way I could.
“Fantastic.” he said as he rose from his seat. “When I receive the exact date, time and place, I’ll have Sherry email you the details.”
“Sounds good. Thank you, Clyde.” I said with the greatest reluctance as we shook hands before he exited.
When he left, I shut my door and walked to my office window and stared out at the mountains, the freeway and its life below as I wondered how this would all pan out. I begged for help from the Universe, but instead it put me in a face to face situation with Jackson, and at a time I couldn’t care more less for the man; not the best career move. I still felt convinced he did not know who I was, but at the same time, I also still had no new clients lined up for the firm this year. If he did know about Anya and I, my promotion, my ace in the hole to save Anya from herself would undoubtedly be lost forever. Would Clyde’s loyalties still lie with Jackson Caiaphas if the truth was known about him? How would Clyde react if he learned Jackson and I were more connected on a personal level than we were on a business level?
For the first time, I considered coming clean with Anya about everything. To tell her I knew her husband and how he was associated with my firm. It truly was an act of a higher power how this all came about. How the firm acquired their audit business without her realizing it, and how it proved he viewed her more as an employee rather than a true business partner. Why she never received an office but a cubicle when they opened their new corporate office. It made me sad for Anya because she was very bright yet unappreciated and so undervalued. Jackson’s disrespect for his wife reminded me of all the times my father would degrade my mother and how I told myself I would never be in a marriage where my wife was not treated as an equal or greater than me. If I could never show her respect and honor, then I would never marry her, especially if I felt superior in any way. I didn’t care what the topic of conversation or interest was. I planned to either learn from her or learned from each other. If I couldn’t build her up but only tear her down, regardless of our points of view on matters, the last thing I would do is marry her. It always seemed to me Jackson could never understand how Any felt about his abusive ways of loving her. That if she could never get past her issues with him after all he put her through, then she was the problem with the marriage. He was the king and she was forever unworthy of being his queen, even though he gave her a fitted Queen’s crown to wear. The only two reasons I ever argued with Anya was because I wanted her to prove me wrong, and I cared about her happiness. I never wanted to be right about any of the negativity I felt, and I wanted her to win every argument we had about my uncertainty. I only challenged her to think differently so she chose happiness in life, and not a life of tragedy. Often times I felt I could see things her biased heart could not. Although her views on these matters remained a source of frustration, I still respected them and even fell more in love with her over them. And I always gave her the benefit of the doubt to gain a better understanding of her position. I fought against having our hearts broken and any resulting paralysis. My arguments did come from a place of fear at times. but they also always came from a place of love, not from a place of hate. Although I hurt so much at times, my presentation didn’t always come out like the sparkling diamond ring I dreamt of buying for her one day.
Later that afternoon, at around one, Anya sent me another text I felt so elated to receive.
ANYA: “Can’t believe it’s still raining. Finally got up to take a shower. Feel better. Still missing you so much.”
ME: “I’m happy babe. I don’t want you hurting. I miss you so much too.”
ANYA: “Perfumes wears out and candles burn out.”
Anya’s text seemed incomplete, and when she never continued it fifteen minutes later, I reached out to see if she planned to.
ME: “I would say that’s a true statement.”
ANYA: “I would still like something from u to wear close to my heart if I can be so bold. It can just be made of string. I don’t care as long as it’s from you.”
When I received this text, my heart and my mouth swelled up with absolute joy as I cried yet again tears, she would never know of, but this time in my office at work.
ME: “As long as I’m still your BFF I would love for you to have something of mine to wear.”
ANYA: “You’ll always be my BFF!”
ME: “I got something in mind then.”
ANYA: “Really? It could be anything! It doesn’t matter! I’m excited!”
ME: “I think I’m more excited than you!”
ANYA: “Impossible!”
ME: “Anytime I have a chance to show you I love you, I can’t help but get excited!”
ANYA: “I can’t wait to wear something of yours to remind me of your love everyday.”
ME: “I love you forever.”
ANYA: “I love you forever.”
“I can’t wait to wear something of yours to remind me of your love everyday” filled me up with so much love for her, I was ecstatic. It wasn’t long ago when she declined a necklace because she couldn’t promise me anything, even though she was bold enough to ask for it. Now it seemed she had no fear or guilt as it led me to dream of a promise, and gave me another reason to fight for us. To believe in her love for me, and as the day progressed, Anya continued to as well.
ANYA: “I’m sooo excited! I haven’t stopped smiling! I can’t wait!”
ME: “You’re too much! I’m happy you’re smiling and excited! I am too!”
ANYA: “I will touch it and kiss it everyday! Like I said I don’t care if it’s just a string. Of course I’ll wear it everyday! It’s from you!”
As I read Anya’s texts of pure joy, I had to ask myself where would I ever find someone to love me this much? In my eyes, this woman could have any man she wanted yet she I meant the most to her, and that resonated deep within me as her love had the power to kill any and all low self esteem issues I ever had. Her love made them the greatest joke and waste of my thoughts over the years, and that alone I had to fight for. How could I ever accept our love had to end when I knew it meant so much to her as well? and I knew Anya didn’t as well. To hear about the smile on her face, taken into consideration the sadness she felt just hours earlier meant everything to me, as I was certain her kids felt it as well. A prime example why I felt without having each other in our lives would be a monster mistake, one I couldn’t allow her to make regardless of the circumstances. I had seen and felt her love too much to believe it was something she wanted to lose.
ME: “To me, there’s no higher honor to just have you wanting to wear something of mine.”
ANYA: “Ahhhhhhhh! I can’t stand it! You made me so happy! Do you think it was rude to ask u for something for me to wear and keep? Pretty bold.””
ME: “Not at all babe. I’m very flattered. I want to cry but I’m at work.”
ANYA: “Ok. I only want it if u truly want me to have it.”
ME: “Why wouldn’t I want u to have it? Of course I do!”
ANYA: “Ok thank you. So excited!!!”
ME: “I think I may be more excited than you! You don’t have to wear it everyday but just knowing you can have something from me that you could have near your heart would make me happy.”
ANYA: “I promise to wear it as much as possible near my heart. When I miss you which is always, I can just hold it in my hand.”
I had to look at this recent heartbreak as an opportunity for me to grow stronger as a person, and not weaker. Katie’s message in her essay remained crystal clear that change was necessary for growth, and here was an example of Anya and I growing together through this boulder in our path. It gave me a chance to be noble for both of us. This world may not have been right, but at least I knew my heart was in the right place. This recent heart ache I felt made me a stronger person as over the last fourteen plus months I found myself closer to my dreams now than I would have been if I never met her. Life was mine again, if I wanted it. After Anya’s texts, her love shone so brightly it burned away all the turmoil and anguish within from just two days ago. Valentine’s Day awakened me to the realization that it wasn’t spent with Jackson or used as an event to further sell people on the façade on their marriage. Her heartfelt texts on this day only made me miss her and want to fight for her more than ever. I believed in our love, and even after Katie’s essay and Anya’s letter, it felt stronger than ever as it seemed she realized a life without me, would not be the life she deserved to live.
When I finished with work, after a very good day, sans the Jackson Caiaphas symposium and dinner party I had to attend, I sat down to text Anya goodnight with anxiety and wonder within. What if she accompanied Jackson to this event? Should I find out if she had plans to attend or should I reveal I knew her husband?
ME: “Just finished working for the evening. I’m glad we both had a good day today and I haven’t stopped smiling since you told me that you wanted to wear something of mine. I am not texting you this to be boastful at all, I’m more of a person who just goes about his business than talk about any of my achievements, but I did something only 11% nationally did at the time; I passed all 4 parts of the CPA exam the first time I took it. It was the proudest moment of my life, so to put this in perspective of how much you mean to me, you wearing something of mine is now the proudest moment of my life. I’ll try to get you something that’s worthy and beautiful enough to be close to your heart, but be prepared for it to fall well short because your heart is the most beautiful thing in the world. Sleep well beautiful. I love you forever.”
The next morning, the Anya I fell deeply in love with, made an early appearance.
ANYA: “OMG! Congratulations! You should be so proud! I’m proud of you! That’s so sexy to me! I can’t wait to wear something of yours close to my heart! I love you so much! Your mind, your innocence and your gentle qualities are all sexy to me. Ok I’m being bold again but I need to know a time frame so I don’t wait and get disappointed. Of course I want it this very second but that’s not going to happen so prepare me. Days, weeks, months I’m impossible aren’t I?”
ME: “BTE! Best Text Ever! That makes me so happy! You have no idea! Just understand I’ve never done this kind of thing for anyone before so it might take a little longer only because I’m particular and I have only one shot at this! It’s like jean shopping!”
ANYA: “Ok!!! Big smile! No worries! “like jean shopping”? Haha! You’re killing me! I’ll be patient. Please don’t overdo it. Simple, pure, beautiful. Like our love.”
“Simple, pure and beautiful, like our love” meant everything to me to read from her. How could anyone ever throw that kind of love away for anything? Isn’t that the kind of love you want your kids to witness and be a part of? Isn’t that the kind of love that teaches them not to ever settle for anything less? That reason alone was enough for her to leave her marriage. How could the two people who did know our love, Debbie and Carolyn, ever be against that even for the sake of her children? How could she not defend a love as simple, as pure and as beautiful as ours to anyone, including those of a mildly flawed culture? We weren’t having sex in the bathrooms of restaurants or running away from our responsibilities for last minutes quickies. I’d be the first to say it wasn’t ideal, but there was goodness to our relationship and to refer to it as an “affair” would be insulting to Anya’s heart who longed to be loved. How could anyone be against a woman who feared being alone and who endured the emotional abuse she did? Why shouldn’t she be given the chance to trust a man before she decided to be with him? I wanted her to have that opportunity, but the more I got to know her, the more I needed her, and I believed the feeling was mutual. That was the thing for me that made it impossible for me to leave her behind. How often do you find someone who can truly meet you at the same height and depth of your love for them? How often do you meet someone where you have zero fear of being judged for how strongly you feel for them? There were no games here, only love and respect, and although understanding each other at times was challenging because of the unknown variable, we loved “eachother” too much to not find a way to see things from another angle. Our love’s deceptive nature was my only struggle, and it needed to change because change was necessary for growth as much as it was necessary for truth. Change would allow everyone to grow, and that’s why I only saw the goodness in it and not the harm, but if she continued to lie about our love, it could only be harmful. In my eyes, all Anya had to do now was tell Katie that change was necessary for growth, and I think she would get it. In fact, we both knew Katie already did, and not only that, she would respect her mother for it, and eventually come to understand completely why. In fact, and this may be horrible to say because I wasn’t looking to replace their father, but at the very least, I could be there for them, and even cover for him if I had to. Again, even though he did fall short at times, my problem was with Jackson the husband, and not Jackson the father. I knew his kids loved him, and they should. He’s their father, and I’m not. I didn’t put food in their mouths, or clothes on their back. I just wanted to supplement their lives, never to become a replacement. There was no intent to disrupt his worth to them. I also didn’t want him to lose anything he built on his own. He earned every penny he made and my goal wasn’t to rob him of that. I could take care of Anya, but I felt he should give her what she was entitled to; reparations for the pain he caused her. Since I knew I made her happy, I only fought for Katie’s and Andrew’s happiness, and I feared they may lose her prematurely one day if her stress and unhappiness continued. I fought for things no one else could see or wanted to see, especially a thirteen and eleven year old. I just needed Anya to see the bigger picture in all I fought for.
Later that afternoon, Anya sent a text to update me on her day.
ANYA: “It’s pouring here. I have your candles going and playing Diana Krall. Peace for 3 more hours!”
ME: “That sounds so relaxing. I’m glad the candles haven’t burned out yet. I’m using the pen and Ipod you gave me. I’m here if you need me, babe.”
ANYA: “I’m glad cuz you’re the perfect male!”
ME: “Well, I try to be, but I’m so in love with you and it’s hard sometimes because I feel so much.”
ANYA: “I’m so in love with you too. I’m still very sorry about the whole situation and for hurting you.”
It was thoughtful of her to apologize, but at the same time, I wished she hadn’t gone there. After her “something to wear of mine” request, I didn’t want her to steal hope away from me or to hear about her situation. Her marriage was always only described to me as a “situation”. That description allowed me to trust her, and situations could always be changed. To me, her situation was a change mandatory for growth. At times, my negativity hurt Anya too, so in lieu of an apology, I just wanted positive communication from her focused on our love to continue, and not to focus on what held it back. I felt the need to clarify the only time when she could hurt me.
ME: “I’ve never been hurt by anything you do for your kids. It’s only what you do for him that hurts me.”
ANYA: “It’s not easy for me. I don’t want to go there right now. I’m enjoying reconnecting with you.”
It’s what I wanted to, the positive reconnection so I was all aboard that ship.
ME: “I know babe, I’m sorry. There aren’t too many things right in this world, but your heart is.”
ANYA: “It’s ok. Thank you.”
The thought of Anya with Jackson left me shipwrecked inside, especially when I knew his infidelities created the “situation” I was in. Anya didn’t have to struggle with another woman in my life like I had to struggle with another man in hers. It was easy at first because I trusted her promise she would leave if she fell in love with me, but when that didn’t happen, it was hard to understand if she stayed, she stayed for him too. The lack of transparency, the unknown variable from where I stood alone, made it that much harder as well, a torment she could never understand unless I dated another. I wasn’t built that way though, and I loved Anya too deeply to even be interested in anyone. This fear burned the internal question; would I be hurt if I knew the truth? If I could walk inside her home, would I be hurt by the framed pictures on the walls or throughout the house? How would one of the many social gatherings and events look if I were to go to one? Would I be hurt if I knew the truth behind the three days of silence she spent on the canary island of Tenerife? What would a night or weekend look like inside her home especially if the kids spent the night at a friend’s house? Could she not see how I could question her love for me and why I struggled with a decision to stay at this point for any reason?
I believed she loved me, I don’t think she would have gone through these great of lengths to stay in touch with me, especially in consideration of how much she loved her kids, but if she truly wanted to be with me, how could she not see the slightest bit of strength in Katie’s letter? Wouldn’t she have seen, like I did, the irony behind her message that change was necessary for growth? What spoke louder than the change needed more than Anya’s marital status? Her unchanged situation is what hurt me, and not the sadness she felt for her daughter. Anya still slept in the same bed, with the same man, every night. She didn’t even make an effort to sleep outside or make an excuse to not sleep in the same room. I honestly thought before we dated, she at least slept apart from him. My parents loved each other but still slept in different rooms and beds, so the last thing I thought was a woman who had now been with two different men still slept with the man who led her to them.
However, here was my reality now. She said I was her best friend, yet I had to sit away from her if we ever went to the movies together. She still had sex with Jackson; the man who cheated on her several times. She protected the family name and still wore his ring, even as she claimed she wanted to wear mine. My soulmate sent me a break up letter, on of all days, Valentine’s Day. She made a date to tell me horrific things any decent human being would be appalled by. Then, once her heart felt secure in my love, she shared things she should have also told me on our first date, in the very beginning, like she wasn’t ambivalent towards her marriage and mothers made sacrifices for their kids, and that’s why she was still there. Instead, she told me she remained married to him because no one wanted to be with her because she had kids, as she detailed through her prior relationship with Lance, the romantic singer. To know this was only half of it, and that by itself threatened to destroy me on a daily basis.
Because of the fact she never changed anything at home with Jackson, I started to believe I wasn’t good enough for her. If Anya felt she could be with me only if she ran away, then how could I ever be good enough for her no matter how perfect she thought I was if she was too ashamed to be proud of me? If our love carried any goodness, why was that something to be ashamed of if Jackson truly chipped away at her heart? The emotional abuse alone he put her through over the course of her marriage was more than of a good reason to convince the people, if they truly cared about her, that a change in marital status was necessary for her growth. Sans the infidelities, the fact he felt so remorseful he let his own wife run around town in hazardous conditions, with their kids in tow, after she worked a full day was grounds enough for a change in marital status. She planned to stay for the sake of the kids when theirs and her own safety was at risk? Jackson was a great provider, but how did the kids benefit from his narcissistic and abusive traits? Didn’t the manner in how he treated their mother, count as an argument for change? If she wanted to be with me, and missed me so desperately, how come she refused to see any of this? I didn’t trust Jackson, and Anya’s protection of him, through the “family name” and her continued union with him made me lose most of my trust in her. The last thing I wanted to do as her best friend and lover, and after being a witness to her sadness, was to hurt her with my struggle and fears. There was another man in her life though, and as much as she loved me, she still maintained to others that she belonged to him. Something she never had to deal with on her end; the source of my greatest anguish I’d ever known in life, an unjust reward for being the one who truly loved her. She needed to understand when I broke into pieces, her unchanged partnership with Jackson remained the reason behind why.
When the next morning came around, now the eighteenth day of February, I sent Anya a text to try and keep the positive emotions alive.
ME: “Good morning! I can’t wait to get you something to wear from me. Wish I could do it tonight but it’s busy season.”
ANYA: “Good morning! I can’t wait either! It’s ok! Beggars can’t be choosers!”
ME: “It’s a great honor you’ve given me, babe. I miss you.”
ANYA: “Don’t take this wrong, but do you even know where to go? I miss u too.”
ME: “Haha! Do you even know how many jewelry store windows I’ve been lost in since I fell for you? The problem is I don’t know which one to go to! As you know this is a first for me. I’ve never bought any jewelry for a girl before, but it’s because I’ve never really been given the chance to, so this means a lot to me. To finally be able to walk inside a jewelry store without feeling like I don’t belong. Another secret dream of mine between us.”
ANYA: “I love you forever.”
I definitely wasn’t the jewelry buying Romeo type, but I always wanted to be that type of man for the woman I loved. I really didn’t know a thing about jewelry, but I felt I had a good eye when my heart played in tune with my mind. Although I preferred to buy her a ring, to walk into a jewelry store for someone I loved so much and who wanted something to wear from me was a dream come true. If one understood how long I waited for the moment to feel secure enough to walk into a jewelry store for someone, they would’ve also understood the reason I was so hurt when Anya abruptly told me she didn’t want me spending money on her because she didn’t feel right about it without a promise. I never looked at this as a promise of anything until she mentioned that, but I felt this second request by her had more weight of a promise behind it after her reason for the guilt of the first request. In my mind, she told me the reason she didn’t want something to wear of mine because she couldn’t promise me anything, so for her to make this request meant a promise wasn’t out of the question.
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Later that afternoon, Anya sent me a text to let me know she had a Company event this with a guest speaker and was unavailable for the rest of the evening. I appreciated the gesture as I didn’t handle surprise disappearances well, but her event left me to wonder if she planned to attend Jackson’s symposium and dinner event. With enough stress on my mind, I decided to turn in early in this night.
When the sun presented us with the next day, Anya presented me with a text.
ANYA: “Good morning baby!”
ME: “Good morning Beautiful! This week is going to be a hard one for me. I hope I’m up to the challenge! I need an easy week! I miss you.”
ANYA: “Ha! Nothing is easy babe. Just life I guess. I miss u too.”
ME: “I agree babe. Nothing in life worth having is ever going to be easy. How are you feeling?”
ANYA: “A little slow. Still tired. Isn’t it funny I can get up early and go all day and night but if I have to work I get tired?”
ME: “Well, if you’re stressed by work, it’s your body’s natural defense to “flight” rather than “fight”. Sometimes I get so stressed out, I feel like just walking out, but of course I’d never do that, but this job does have its moments. Some of the deadlines I face are nearly impossible to meet at times.”
ANYA: “I would get an immediate leave of absence note. Not good for my wellbeing. Well, it looks like we’d be an unemployed couple if we got together!”
ME: “I guess we’ll just have to spend the rest of our lives in bed then! Doesn’t sound like unemployment is a bad thing to me!”
ANYA: “Haha! Have I told you I miss you?”
ME: “Not in the last few minutes.”
ANYA: “I miss u!!”
ME: “I miss u too! It seems like forever since I last saw you.”
ANYA: “It’s been a long time.”
ME: “It think it’s been almost a month.”
ANYA: “I know.”
It was all she could tell me. “I know” but maybe it was all my heart could handle to know. What incentive did she have to be with me, or to at least promise to, if she could see me any time she wanted? I guess it was another way to look at all the missing I dealt with now, as the cruelty of life began to take its toll on me.
On Thursday evening, I needed to get out of the house, and away from the stress of my work schedule and the loneliness as I decided to visit my mother. Busy season made it difficult to see my mother, and under normal circumstances, I never would’ve made the drive to see her, but Anya and work consumed so much of my time, I felt I pushed my mother off to the side. As I struggled with the stress from work and Anya, I tried to ignore the stress my mother’s illness could cause as well. When I inadvertently saw one of the well known side effects of chemotherapy on Christmas when my mother removed her Santa Claus hat, I didn’t know how much more heartache I could handle. I talked with her on the phone often, and it seemed things went as well as they could for her, but I couldn’t bring myself to see it because then it would feel more real. I had to admit, even before her latest cancer battle, my relationship with Anya did change the relationship I had with my mother as Anya became my best friend and confidant. I found this to be a good thing for my mother’s psyche because she knew I was happy and now worried less about me. At the same time, I felt I abandoned her in a way because of her illness, but I usually never visited much during January through April, if at all. Even though I’m sure she kept herself busy, and she never gave me any sign she was losing this time around, but something told me I should visit her as the challenges I had was perhaps the Universe’s way of getting me back in touch with her.
When I arrived, my father wasn’t home so I walked right into my mother’s bedroom. When I entered her room, she was propped up on her bed as the movie “You’ve Got Mail” played loudly on her DVD player.
“Oh! Hi Honey!” she said as she sprang from her bed.
“Hi Mom” I said as she engulfed me in a bear hug.
“What brings you by?” she asked as she sat back down.
“Vicodin.” I said.
“Landy!” she said in her most serious tone. “I only let you have a couple to help your back, not to turn you into a drug addict!”
“I’m kidding.” I said in partial disappointment. “Have I ever had an addictive personality? You know I do drink once in a while, but I’ve never craved alcohol.”
“Well, I didn’t mean you are…but this stuff is different from alcohol.”
“I would never drive this far just for Vicodin.” I said. “And if I did, then I can understand your fear of me being addicted, but when was the last time I’ve been here?”
“The last time I saw you was on Christmas.”
“That was almost two months ago. Don’t you think if I was addicted, I’d be here more often? That’s all I’m saying.”
“It’s a very addictive drug, Landy.” she said in a stern tone. “I wouldn’t be a good mother if I didn’t warn my only child about it. I’m just making you aware of it.”
“Mom, do you really think I came here for Vicodin?”
“I don’t know these days. I haven’t seen you around.”
“It’s busy season, Mom.” I said. “You know, I usually go into hibernation until April.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” she said. “I think the chemotherapy is affecting my memory and moods these days. I feel more tired and sometimes I can’t remember simple things like if I washed my face or not. I’m in a lot of pain too, my arthritis in my hands is really acting up.”
I had to be aware these were indeed different times for her and the side effects of her treatments may affect her, even scare her. By the looks of her though, the treatment seemed to work as I noticed she had a full set of hair. Could her hair have grown back that quickly in just two months?
“Your hair looks nice, healthy and…abundant” I said.
“Thank you, Landy.” she said as she got up from her bed and went to the mirror to look at it.
“Did you just get it permed?” I asked as I tried to notice things about her I hadn’t before.
“Well, you can’t perm a wig, Honey.” she said as she removed it to reveal a shaven bald head.
“I’m sorry, Mom. When did you lose your hair?” I asked to ensure her nobility stayed intact. “Did they tell you this would happen?”
“Well, no because I wasn’t supposed to. I was told this wasn’t the kind where you’d lose your hair, but the first week of December I found traces of hair around the house one day. I then got upset with your father because I thought he was to blame for it! I told him “I think you’re going bald!” He swore up and down it wasn’t his hair, and I still didn’t believe him. Do you know how hard it is picking up hair around the house? One morning, I got out of bed and noticed a lot of hair on my pillow, and I started to cry, not because I felt sorry for myself but mostly because I blamed your father and felt bad about it. When I found out it was me though, I just couldn’t stand its slow methodical cruel way of taking a part of me away, so I had your father shave the rest of my hair off.”
“He did a really good job.” I said as I admired how clean it looked. “I know this might sound kind of strange mom, but you look good bald. You have a nicely shaped head. Maybe I should go with the “Mr. Clean” look too.”
“Oh, Landy! Don’t you dare!” she said. “You would look horrible bald!”
“Horrible? What? Why would you say that?”
“I don’t think you have a good looking head and your nose....”
“What about my nose?”
“It’s kind of big…I don’t think you’d look good bald at all.”
“Thanks for the self esteem boost.” I said. “Do you see why I need a Vicodin every now and then?”
“I’m just being honest.” She said. “You need to look professional at your job too.”
“I guess I can appreciate the bald Pinocchio look wouldn’t be in my best interest.” I replied, shaking my head. “So…how is the chemo coming? Are you almost done?”
My mom laughed at my Pinocchio reference before she composed herself enough to answer my queries.
“I’ll never be off of it, Landy.”
“What do you mean you’ll never be off of it?” I asked. “Everyone goes through chemo and then gets off of it, Mom. Your hair will grow back, and no offense to the wig, it looks nice, but you can start getting perms again really soon.”
My mom then grabbed the remote and paused her movie.
“I’m afraid that’s not how it works for me this time around, Landy.” she said.
“Why not?”
“Because they found cancer cells in my liver and lungs this time.”
“What? How does this make any sense?” I asked incredulously. “Mom, you don’t drink or smoke. How could you have liver or lung cancer? You’ve had cancer in your skull and they got that. I don’t understand.”
“The cancer was in my bones, Landy when they found it on my skull.” she said. “This time though, they found it in my organs.”
“Then how can you have cancer in your liver and lungs?”
“I have breast cancer that first metastasized to the bone, and now has moved to my liver and lungs.” she said. “My cancer is spreading, Landy. I have Stage Four Cancer now.”
I didn’t know what to say other than to remain in denial as the eye of the perfect storm of stress and sadness hovered above my heart and mind. My mother was only sixty-two years old, and defeated Cancer not once but twice. She then underwent chemo to kill it, which they did, so how could it have spread when she was told it was dead? Wasn’t the purpose of chemo to stop this from ever happening? You mean to tell me my mother, not only lost a breast but now also lost the hair on her head for life? Was this how a woman, who believed and trusted in God’s love for her, who had the ultimate faith in Him, was rewarded for it? I visited on this evening in complete belief she already won this cancer battle. That this was just another foregone conclusion, so how in the world could something spread that was not only caught in time, but also beaten twice already? To say I wasn’t mad at the cruelty and unfairness of the entire world at this moment was a monstrous understatement.
“What did the doctor say?” I asked as I held my breath.
“They’re getting it.” she said. “but I’ll have to remain on chemo for the rest of my life.”
I nodded my head to let her know I understood, but unknown to me, only my mother knew the magnitude of what the doctors told her.
“How are you feeling?” I asked. “Do you notice it physically at all?”
“I feel okay. I get tired more often, but it’s because I lost a quarter of my lung capacity so it’s hard to breathe sometimes.” She said. “I just have to sit down more often to catch my breath when I’m outside working on the yard or cleaning the house.”
“Do you need me to come by and help you out?” I asked. “I can come by on the weekends.”
“No, Landy. I can handle it. I don’t want to lose the thing I love to do. That’s when the cancer wins.”
“Ok, then. If you need any help just let me know. It doesn’t mean the cancer is winning. You have to remember you’re sixty two years old and you have arthritis in both hands. Just don’t think of it as the Cancer winning, but being smart about things.”
“I’ll let you know if I need help, Honey. Thank you.”
“How do you get to your chemo treatments?” I asked. “I can take some time off of work to take you if you need me to.”
“That’s alright, Landy. Your father takes me.” she said. “I go alone once in a while but I want to be alone sometimes. Having your father around sometimes makes me feel uncomfortable and nervous.”
“Is it because you don’t think he gets “it”?”
“I think your Father is in denial that I’ve got Cancer, Landy.”
“Well, mom in fairness to Dad and I, you don’t share much and you make it seem like this is just a standard operating procedure. How long have you known your cancer had spread to your liver and lungs?”
“Just before Christmas.”
“I’ve called you, Mom. We talk on the phone often. Why couldn’t you mention it to me?”
“I know you’re busy Honey. You have a mental job and I don’t want to put more stress on you than you need.”
“I thank you for thinking about me, but that’s not fair Mom. I also don’t want to not know and then find out in the worst way possible one day. I’d always regret not spending more time with you. When did you tell Dad?”
“He knew the day I knew.”
“What makes you think then he is in denial?”
“Where is your father right now, Landy?”
“I guess he’s at the park working right now?”
“Exactly.” she said sadly. “He doesn’t need that job at the park.”
“You think the park is his way of escaping reality?” I asked.
“I do.” she said. “But that’s alright. I have God with me too.”
My father didn’t neglect my mother at all, but he wouldn’t allow to intimately engage himself in this battle with her simply because it would be the same to admit my mother would soon die. In order to escape that likelihood, he treated her battle the same as the ones before, and he might of did it to make her feel less fearful. I felt if he never left her side, she would be annoyed with that as well.
“Ok. If you need me to do anything, just let me know.” I said. “You’re not bothering me at all, Mom.”
“I’m not going to ask you to drive all the way from Irvine.”
“I don’t care, Mom cause’ guess what?”
“What?”
“I want you to.” I said. “Are you scared at all?”
“Of what?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” I said as I tried to respond in a hopeful tone. “How are you able to receive such bad news and just carry on?”
“I’m not alone, Landy. God is with me.” she said. “He has a plan for me, for all of us, and I have to trust his plan for me.”
I couldn’t believe what I just heard. Trust his plan? What plan, from a loving God, contained such loss? This woman gave so much to others. Didn’t smoke. Didn’t drink. Yet had cancer in her lungs and liver? I deserved such a fate, but not my mother who loved Him.
“I don’t get it Mom.”.
“Don’t get what?”
“How could God’s plan, one you could find any trust in, have you getting Cancer?” I said. “That doesn’t sound like a loving God to me. That sounds like someone I could never trust.”
“Am I so special that I can’t get Cancer? He gave me life, and he even put a cherry on top when he gave me you, thirty-eight years ago. He’s done nothing but heap blessings upon me I don’t deserve. What have I ever given Him? He’s only given things to me so what more could I ask for? Not only that, his son gave his life for me to be with Him.” She said. “It’s hard to believe this because we’re accustomed to life here on earth, but in the end, this isn’t the life that matters, Honey. We’re only here to grow spiritually. Once God feels that is done, He brings us home. So, I’m on his time table, not my own.”
I took in every word my mother had to say, life couldn’t had disenchanted me more than it did at this very moment. How could the Universe deem this to be fair? I deserved Cancer or a struggle of this magnitude, but not my sweet mother. I could feel nothing less than tremendous guilt about how I used to worry her when I was younger. Even though I knew I was fine, she could’ve never felt the same assurance from where she stood. Why did it take for her to get stage four cancer before I recognized how I made her feel at those times she worried to no end? I wanted to blame God for her Cancer, but I caught myself. To attack God was to attack her support system; the thing that gave her so much strength. So, what made me special enough to think I could criticize her beliefs?
After she shared this news with me, I felt on the brink of a total and complete mental collapse. I then convinced my mother to allow me to take a few extra pills more of Vicodin than I did in the past, and she trusted me enough it wouldn’t be an issue to oblige. If I came clean about my current heartache with Anya though, I knew she wouldn’t have given me a single pill. With this information unknown, she agreed to part with ten pills as I convinced her again this would never turn into an addiction for me. I felt fully in control as I only used it at those times of my greatest emotional distress. The euphoric effects of the opiate kept me focused on the big picture with Anya and helped provide a positive outlook when I desperately needed it. Now, with the serious news of my mother’s illness, I found myself in a tsunami of guilt as I revisited the times, I failed her as a son.
Although Anya and I were technically on the mend, my heart remained broken over us, and my mother’s illness only exacerbated all I felt. She would be on chemotherapy her whole life? The cancer spread even after rounds of chemo? She was at Stage four? Didn’t she already beat it? I envisioned stage four cancer patients on chemo to be in the hospital on their death beds and not in their rooms watching ‘You’ve Got Mail”. Either the medical field made major advances in cancer research or my mom held something terrible from me. Was there something I could have done to prevent this? If I had not kept her up all those nights worrying about me, would she be going through all of this? I understood mothers made sacrifices for their kids, but how could her current struggle be necessary just so an immature kid could live his life the way he wanted to? Either my mother wanted me to believe she wasn’t sick or I wanted to believe she wasn’t sick. Either way, there wasn’t much denial left for either of us.
As busy season picked up a full head of steam and twelve hour days became mandatory, I suddenly felt buried alive with pressure as sleep was now of the utmost importance. The eye of this perfect storm of broken dreams would stay on me for the next seven weeks as I held onto all I had left at this point; faith. The kind that hopes, wishes and dreams truly were the three things in life you never gave up on, and when Anya texted me the next morning, I held on to all three for dear life.
ANYA: “Good morning!”
It used to bother me whenever I got a quick “good morning” text from her, but now I inhaled them like a deep sea diver who begged for oxygen just before the bends. Her short morning texts I viewed in a more positive light as they didn’t want to talk to me but rather the opposite. She also wanted me to know I was on her mind regardless of how busy she was.
ME: “Good morning!”
After the news my mother gave me, her texts meant more than they did before, as I needed her in my life more than ever. Of course, I wanted to ask her how she was doing, but she was probably in a rush and as clingy as I felt, I didn’t want to appear needy.
While on my lunch break though, she reached out to me again.
ANYA: “I was sorting through my old pics and I just sent u one via your email. I don’t think u have one of just me.”
ME: “I won’t be able to check my email until I get home tonight, but you gave me something to look forward to tonight! Thank you, babe!”
To see her beautiful face would’ve been nice at this moment, but I couldn’t access my email from my cell phone and only through my desktop computer. I wanted to return the favor, but I never took pictures of myself nor had any good ones taken of me. My mother put together a scrap book photo album of me, but I’d have to tear the pictures out of it, and I had no means to scan them so I could email them to her. I doubt she could have kept one of me around anyway.
That evening, the firm called dinner in for us at the office, but it was from a “ribs” joint so I decided to leave the office to grab something else to eat across the street. As I walked over, I texted Anya to see what she was up to.
ANYA: “Good baby! U don’t like ribs? How come? BBQ flavor? Just leaving to get the kids.”
ME: “They’re really messy! I need like a hundred napkins and I can never enjoy myself because I’m too busy wiping my sticky hands!
ANYA: “Oh I c! I agree!”
ME: “I like the BBQ flavor but they require too much work to eat.”
ANYA: “I’d cut it up for u!”
The hardest part for me at times, why I struggled so mightily, was brought to light with her text. If an outsider were to read this text, and were to know of my love for her, how could they not understand how much she meant to me? This was the kind of love you fought for and believed in, especially when you could tell by this sweet gesture, I meant just as much to her, if not more. Remove the circumstances around our relationship, and people would be appalled if I were to turn my back on this kind of love. Do you know how much I needed her love for me? Why it was so impossible for me to throw away and say good bye to? Every single night of my life, I dined alone and to have someone love me enough to volunteer to do this for me so I could enjoy a meal, was everything good to fight for in life, more valuable to me than money. If one wondered why I struggled so much, why I loved her so dearly to endure all I did, just take a look at this text, and realize how much this woman meant to me. Yet all of her beauty, never just skin deep, remained from my grasp. The beauty of her love shone through at a time I hurt so deeply because of what I learned the previous evening, it left me an emotional wreck. I then had to compose myself and look downwards while people walked past me as I quickly swiped to dry my eyes. Like her request to have something from me to wear, her sweet words gave me hope she still believed in us. I’ve had girlfriends who were always free to love me. They were never held back by other responsibilities, or kids and were free to see me at any time yet Anya made herself more available to me than any of my prior girlfriends ever did. Another reason I couldn’t give up on our love for each other.
ME: “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever offered to do for me, babe. I’ve never had a girlfriend offer to do that for me before. I miss you to death. Are you doing ok, sweetheart?”
ANYA: “I miss you to death too. Idk I have good days and bad days. I don’t have anything of yours to hold onto. Not even a picture. I read my saved texts when I’m sad.”
ME: “You still have those texts saved to your phone?”
ANYA: “Of course I do. I still have “all you know”.
ME: “I thought for sure once your husband confronted you that you got rid of them.”
ANYA: “No. July 17th, 2008. I miss u like crazy. I want to see you so bad.”
And just like that, Anya’s love negated all the negative emotions I felt earlier, at a time I desperately needed to feel her love. When Anya shared she held onto the “saved texts”, it again filled me with hope for us that Katie’s essay wasn’t the end. These were the texts imported directly from my heart and soul when she told me she still “didn’t know”, while she was away in New York City with her daughter for a dance competition, to inform her of all I did know. She wanted to see me “so bad”. She missed me “like crazy”. These were the things I had to fight for her to have. For me to let her go would not only be pure abandonment, but inhumane. Love always caught the people who fell, and I planned to follow suit. She didn’t deserve a life devoid of anything less than true love. We had something special we both built over the last fourteen plus months, and because of that, I truly believed her kids would come to understand one day. I would never allow our love to wreck Andrew and Katie, and if I believed it would, I’d have no choice but to walk. I had a plan for them to understand one day, and I had to do everything in my power to be a perfect complement to their father, and also add years to the life of their mother. I would take full responsibility for the safety of her heart and for her happiness. They would both learn their mother was full of warmth and love, and selfless in her love for them. Their mother was simply, my soulmate, and our love wasn’t a relationship of luxury but rather necessity. Anya held onto my saved texts for a reason and I liked to think it was because she believed in my love for her, and she believed in us. Her letter to me on Valentine’s Day claimed she was letting go, but her words today told me just the opposite so how could I ever do such a thing when I knew I meant this much to her?
ME: “I want to see you bad too. I miss looking into your eyes. I miss your touch and you being in my arms.”
ANYA: “I miss looking into your eyes too. I miss everything.”
ME: “I love you.”
ANYA: “I really love you.”
ME: “If you weren’t the person you are, I would have probably killed myself the other day.”
ANYA: “What r u talking about?
ME: “If you would have just sent me your letter and I never heard from you again, I don’t think I’d have been able to go through that. I’m thankful you can look past yourself in this situation.”
ANYA: “Only b/c I have done the same and I know how much it hurts and I’m in love with you.”
ME: “Thank you for caring enough about my heart.”
ANYA: “Thank you for taking care of my heart too.”
ME: “Always and forever, babe.”
ANYA: “Always and forever. Isn’t that a song?”
ME: “Oh crap. I think it is! Another one of those!”
ANYA: “Haha!”
Why did all these popular songs feel like they were written about extramarital relationships? Have we all been deceived all these years? Did unforbidden love ever feel that strong? With both the pain of a lost relationship, my mother’s illness, and the stress that began to suffocate me at work, I might have taken my own life, as my “once upon a time” simple life reached a point of no mental return. The unusual stress and pressure took me away from the sanctuary of writing I used to deal with any negative emotions. Since I couldn’t spend time with Anya as much since Katie’s essay, I began to self-medicate through Vicodin to fill the void. In the past, I only used them to mask the pain of those times the façade of Anya’s marriage got the best of me. Unknown to me at this time, however, what I thought was only an uphill climb, turned into a mental endurance test of Mount Everest proportions as this battle against my low self esteem and perpetual stress I was never prepared for.
I never blamed my father for my self esteem issues, but after I absorbed a lifetime of putdowns from him, used by him as means of motivation, it was impossible not to see him as one of the sources behind my self destruction. I was the first person in my entire family to earn a bachelor’s degree and then pass the CPA exam the first time I ever took it so I never saw the need for his abusive tendencies. Behind it all, I think my father, at least subconsciously, blamed me for the sacrifices he had to make in his own life when he got my mother pregnant. It just felt like he took a lot of his anger with life out on me, and I was born for that purpose. I didn’t hate my father, but I did hold him somewhat responsible for the way I felt about myself at times. Otherwise, why would a father ever choose to tear their child down instead of build them up, especially one who had the drive and ambition as I did? I had to admit, it made me angry to think about and it no doubt added to the frustration I felt about Anya’s indecision simply because I expected more from a person who loved me. It’s why I really held those who loved me to such a high standard, because of the way my father showed his love for me. Let’s face it, a person of high self esteem never allowed the same things to get them down, that got me down, and if it was instilled in me at a younger age by someone who loved me, I think I’d handle all of this much better. Even be strong enough to say goodbye if I had to, but love was important in life to have. Anya proved it every day and if it was that important to her, it was absolutely imperative to me. I couldn’t change how my past had weakened me, as I faced a demon of monster proportions, and he had me right where he wanted me. This battle for was not only for Anya’s happiness, and for the happiness she brought me, or a battle I waged against Jackson’s idea of marriage being unrealistic, but seemed to now shape up as one against my own self as well.
I didn’t want to burden Anya with the news about my mother, and I especially didn’t want her to feel bad for me, but it worried me to the point I couldn’t think of anything else. Since she was a nurse, maybe she could help alleviate the anxiety and anguish I had over it? I didn’t want to be selfish but even as I felt some uncertainty, there was no one else I trusted more than Anya. I just didn’t want her to worry about me.
ME: “When I visited my mother last night, she told me she would have to be on chemo for the rest of her life. She says her cancer is now in her liver and lungs. It’s not spreading per se, they have it under control, but it’s in stage 4. She’s lost her hair from the chemo but I’ve known since Christmas. She didn’t know I knew, but showed me her wig last night.”
ANYA: “OMG! Do u want to talk in a bit?”
ME: “Oh no, babe. I’m fine. I don’t want to be a burden on you. Just wanted to share it with you in case I seem different at all. I just have a lot on my mind.”
ANYA: “Hun u could never be. I’m so sorry. Want to call me when you leave work? Wish I could see u.”
ME: “I’m ok, babe. Please don’t worry about me. It’ll take you away from your kids and I don’t want to do that. Thank you though.”
ANYA: “No. I want to talk to you. We don’t have to get into it. Please babe?”
I didn’t expect she wanted to talk with me about this at all as her kindness caught me my complete surprise. She was very sweet to me lately though so I don’t know why it did. I would never want her to deny me a chance to show her how much I cared, so I thought this presented a chance for us to feel closer and to know a part of me I didn’t really know myself.
ME: “I don’t know what time I’ll be out of here tonight though. Can I text you when I leave? It might be late and I don’t want to keep you up.”
ANYA: “Ok just text me when you can talk and I will make myself available.”
ME: “Ok, Sweetheart. Thank you.”
ANYA: “Don’t leave work early to talk to me. I’ll be up for a while.”
ME: “It might be a little late tonight though.”
ANYA: “No worries. Take your time.”
What Anya didn’t realize was how much this scared me, not only for my mother, but for her. How much it haunted me to imagine the person I loved so much to experience the same one day, the way my mother had, and if Katie and Andrew learned the news the way I did. Although Anya appeared to live a healthier lifestyle, my mother didn’t live an unhealthy one, so I blamed a steady diet of stress for all of this. All it took were moments of great sadness and worry to accumulate over time, before the stress overwhelmingly changed someone’s time line. This only added to the torment and the frustration I felt about Anya’s decision to stay for the sake of the kids, as it only revealed the truth in how change was not only necessary for growth but also necessary for life. I just couldn’t let this happen to her, and to Katie and Andrew, if I could as there was more at stake here than what appeared in front of us.
When I left work at eight, I texted her to ask if I still had the green light to call. This was an unusual late Friday night at the office for me, as during busy season we worked early on Saturdays as well. She texted me right back to let me know to call. I felt relief just upon the sound of her voice as talked for about fifteen minutes as I tried to keep it brief. The comfort I found in her voice and kind words really saved me from a sleepless night as she listened to me as if every single word, I had to say, held great importance to her. Anya’s genuine concern suggested she experienced this kind of thing before as it made me a little more fearful that she knew things that I didn’t know about my mother’s condition. She really helped me though with my feelings of guilt, as I felt better and ready for bed when I got off the phone with her.
I had one thing to do before I could go to sleep that evening; to see the picture Anya sent me earlier. After the picture downloaded and I was able to open the file to view it, I knew at that same instant it would be my default screensaver. The picture she sent me of herself was the kind of beauty you’d see on the red carpet. She wore a red dress that bared her shoulders, with lipstick to match that brought to life her beautiful smile. The look in her dark eyes were the same ones I missed so much whenever I looked at her as her elegant dark hair stole my breath away. She clutched a handbag to her right side as her toned tan arms highlighted her shapely body, as it made me miss the smell of her skin lotion and perfume. Every single thing about Anya, that made my heart want to escape its chamber everytime I saw her, was captured in the picture she sent me as I desperately longed to have her beauty in my arms again. I stared at her picture for at least twenty minutes as I wondered how any man, in their right mind, could ever cheat on such a perfect woman as Jackson’s infidelities were once again beyond my comprehension.
The next morning, before I left for the office on a Saturday, I texted Anya to ask if I could have my breath back because she took it away from me. She sent me a “Haha!” text and thanked me for something I only should only have thanked her for. She then texted to let me know she felt bad for me and my family, and that she was “here” for me. I wouldn’t have wanted to burden her anyway, but it made me sad when I didn’t hear back from her for the rest of the day, as this Saturday marked the first one since her letter to me, which made a usual hard night for me, much harder. I texted her at around seven that evening. to let her know I missed her, and she texted me back to let me know the same, but it only made me feel lonelier as I decided to try and sleep it off.
The next day, after a silent Saturday from Anya left my mind with third degree burns, I challenged myself to only consider positive thoughts as an unpredictable storm hovered above me. With the seriousness of my mother’s illness now in play, I had to work harder mentally to accentuate the good things in my life in an effort to not lose the big picture focus as a slippery slope waited, even begged, for me to slip. If I couldn’t be with her, or hear from her, then I’d have to do things that made me she was with me in some way to help with the missing. It was then I decided to bring up her picture on my computer screen to not only capture her beauty in my eyes again, but to also study it. After I spent a few of those minutes on her neckline, I decided it was finally time to honor her request.
ME: “Good morning! I hope you’re doing well! I’m headed out to get you a thingie for you to wear and hold today. I’ll keep you updated!”
As I remembered her smile and excitement through the texts she sent me just a few days ago, I couldn’t wait to see her reaction to my text as I tested her weekend of silence.
ANYA: “Is this going to mess things up? I don’t want you to do it if it’s going to be too hard on you.”
And Just like that, like a moth to a flame, my negative emotions preyed on my positive ones. It seemed like she sent me a message; that she would not be available on the weekends as much anymore, if at all. The coldness of her response stung me as if I stuck my head right into a beehive, at a time I desperately needed to feel her love for me. I felt she should’ve relayed this information to me last week, and not now. It seemed I dealt with two different people now; the Anya on the weekdays who needed me, and the Any on the weekends who didn’t as I felt on some level, spent. What did she fear this could ruin? Why did she think this would be hard on me buying her something she asked for? Who was she?
ME: “Mess me up?”
ANYA: “Your emotions.”
How could me buying her something for her to wear, something she asked of me, mess up my emotions? This fear led me to consider something even far scarier. If she feared this could mess with my emotions, and she felt all the same things I did for her, wouldn’t this mess up her emotions as well? If she cared so much about my emotions, how come she asked for something to wear from me not once, but twice?
ME: “I’ll be ok. Will you be ok though? Will this mess you up as well?”
ANYA: “I’ll be ok. I’m the one who asked for something to keep. Remember?”
Her attitude this morning, and her inconsistency at a time I really needed to feel something good about things in my life, disheartened me once again. How did she think such responses would make me feel? If she was bold enough to ask me for something to wear, did it mean she was able to control her emotions for me now? How can one control the love you feel for someone when love is an emotion? I just felt if she cared about how much this would affect me emotionally, then she should have never asked the first time, let alone the second time.
ME: “I remember so why are you asking me this now?”
ANYA: “I miss u so much that I wanted to wear something of yours to feel close to you.”
I then considered, what if she worried about my emotional instability because of my mother’s illness? She asked me for the necklace before I broke that news to her, so now it worried her because there was another emotional element within me now, a raw one too. After I read her text and considered her concern, I felt a little better as I realized she feared to lose what we still had left.
ME: “If that’s the truth, I should be fine, babe.”
ANYA: “I should be fine or you will be fine? Big difference.”
After her response, I found it now my duty to remind her of what love essentially was.
ME: “Love is an emotion, babe. I’ll be fine.”
How could she not understand that it didn’t help me emotionally when she pulled a Houdini on the weekends? Could she not understand how I could be affected by her disappearing act? Love was an emotion, and now, after she allowed and encouraged me for fourteen plus months to not only fall in love with her, but to fall deeply in love with her, she now tried to control my something at times I didn’t have control of myself? Why not try to be as loving on the weekends towards me as you are on the weekdays if you want my emotions to be consistent? As much as she was under the gun at home, I was also under the gun now left to deal with my mother’s illness and a work load that piled up on top of it. It wasn’t a picnic for me at times either. Just a few days ago she showed me nothing but joy and excitement when I told her I would pick her up something to wear and hold, and now all of sudden, I get a second face? I understood her fear, but the tone of her texts made a tough weekend on me even tougher. If she couldn’t understand that love was an emotion, in fact probably the strongest and rawest one a human being could experience because of the highs and lows it brings, then how could she expect me to understand her struggle with Katie? I refused to argue with her, but her remarks had a caustic quality I didn’t appreciate especially after such a long week of unexpected events. Given her knowledge of the volatility of emotions I experienced in just a week’s time, from her letter, to the excitement I felt when we reconnected, and to the news of my mother’s Cancer prognosis, how could she carry such a tone void of love? In her defense, I had to acknowledge a greater risk of emotional instability with me existed because of my mom’s bad news. I didn’t want to mess things up emotionally as badly as she didn’t want me to, but her inconsistent behavior carried a greater risk of messing me up emotionally than something she wanted from me. The last thing I wanted was for both of us to hurt anymore, but I needed her to be act like a woman who was not only in love with me, but also knew what love essentially was because any deviation from what is to be expected from someone in love, would allow a greater risk of emotional instability to reside within me.
As the day progressed, and I gazed through a multitude of jewelry store windows at the mall, I couldn’t find the strength to walk inside of one, as Anya’s silence and the loveless tone of her texts stole away the bravado I had. I walked through the mall like a zombie, unable to escape Anya’s concerns from earlier. When I made the decision to leave about four hours into my Sunday afternoon mission, Anya sent me a text.
ANYA: “Am I taking up your whole day babe?”
When I read her text, I flashbacked to her earlier caustic remarks. As the fear she planned to abandon me, with all I felt, it only left me to wonder why she felt guilty about taking half of my day, but never all the half days that added up the last fifteen months of my life. I know she meant no harm in what she texted to me, but I felt a part of me had been raped by her inconsistent love on this day after she made me feel safe and gave me hope just days ago. She should have felt this way over a year ago, when we reconnected after five months apart, to consider what I learned now. Regardless of how I felt, at this point in our relationship, I feared the pain her loss would cause over the pain I felt with her still in my life, so I hid how her texts made me feel.
ME: “Not at all, babe.”
ANYA: “I can’t wait! Smilin!”
ME: “You might not have it today, but just know it’s because I want it to define our love perfectly.”
ANYA: “I appreciate all challenges baby.”
After I read her text, the return of her excitement brought me peace as I felt relieved, and thankful, I fought off the urge to tell her how I truly felt as her heart seemed to be back in tune with mine. I also had to recognize as I tussled with a fear of abandonment with all these feelings, that the stress and fatigue made me sensitive to everything around me, and Anya was the only source of happiness I had left. I didn’t have children of my own to provide me with another form of joy once in a while, and it would take me years to ever trust in love again enough to have children of my own one day if I lost her love. I went into this relationship caring about only her happiness, but now mine mattered too, as my career and all I worked for hung in the balance. My profession was a mental one and I needed to be sharp and focused, and any inconsistency in Anya’s love for me affected me enough now that it felt like a death sentence.
I knew one thing was certain though; I needed the universe’s help now more than ever. I needed to know the Universe still sided with me and on our side.
I needed another message.
Another sign.
I guess what I didn’t know at the time was, I needed a miracle.