“We’ll get higher and higher

Straight up we’ll climb

We’ll get higher and higher

Leave it all behind.

So baby dry your eyes,

Save all the tears you’ve cried.

Oh that’s what dreams are made of.”

~ “Dreams” Van Halen

The last person I hoped to see at Paseos was Mitch, but I walked right into his house. Paseos was always his home away from home, and I used to enjoy the place, even my times with Mitch, before I met Anya. Even though I didn’t miss Mitch and his classless antics, the place still had a special place in my heart because it’s where I met the love of my life. I just despised the assumptions Mitch made about Anya as he rooted against us. It annoyed me to no end especially when he knew how much time I invested in our relationship and how much I clearly loved her.

“Hey, man. What do you need to talk to me about?” I asked.

“Are you still seeing that married chick?”

“I’m still seeing Anya.” I said. “Why do you care?”

“Still paying for a car that’ll never pay itself off, huh?” he asked.

“If I looked at things that way, Mitch…I wouldn’t still be seeing her.”

“I give it ninety-six four, now.”

“Ninety-six four?” I said as I laughed. “So, you’re saying I only have two months left now?”

“Yep. Two months left.” he stated. “Two more months before there will never be a chance she leaves.”

“I think you’re wrong.” I said with a tinge of anger. “There’s a lot you don’t know that’s happened between us. So, I don’t know where you get off making such judgments without any facts.”

“Ok, let’s see if I’m wrong.” he said. “Text her right now and ask her you need a promise from her or it’s over.”

“I can’t do that.” I said.

“You can’t do it because you know what the answer will be.”

“I think it would be unfair to her.” I said.

“For a lousy promise? You’re not asking for her to grab her things, and immediately leave. You’re just asking her for a promise.” he exclaimed. “She loves you, doesn’t she?”

“She does.”

“So…then what’s the problem?”

“Although I feel I deserve a promise, I feel it’s the wrong time.” I said. “She needs time to make the necessary preparations before she does. But I believe her love for me is too strong to ignore her need to be with me. Just a little more time will prove it. I feel the universe is on our side here.”

“So, you’re saying all this time, you’ve just been wearing her down. Kind of like…loving her into submission?”

“I wouldn’t say I’ve been wearing her down, but I think the longer she is with me, the more of a chance she will need me enough to make a promise. After all she’s been through with an abusive husband, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with giving her time to make sure this is true love. Then when the time comes for her to make a promise, I’ll know without any doubt she means it.”

“You’re like a modern day, Romeo.” he said. “More like Retardeo.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

“When are ya gonna to get it, Land?” he asked as he shook his head. “When the fuck is this gonna sink in? What’s it gonna take for you to wake up from this fuckin’ pipedream? You’re no Romeo, you’re a joke to her; a puppet on a string.”

“How can you even say that? I’ve been with her for almost a year and a half now.” I said. “You don’t have the faintest idea of all we’ve been through together. These are all assumptions based solely on the fact she hasn’t left her husband yet. Well, she has left him emotionally, not physically yet. You’re just like all the women in this bar you degrade, you can only see what’s in front of your face, but never what’s intangible.”

“She’s playing you for a damn fool.” he said.

“You’re wrong.”

“You can say I’m wrong, but facts are facts. She’s not with you, she’s only using you, at this point. She’s using you for a feeling. That’s all she feels for you, and it has nothing to do with “love”. She isn’t leaving her rich husband for you. She’s gonna stick around just long enough to take what’s left of you so she can fill the emotional void her husband left her with. Money is all that matters to her and to her friends, especially that one over there sitting with the cop. The only difference between the cop and you, is that he knows where that is headed. Nowhere. The only part of him into a relationship with Anya’s friend is his dick, but your heart is into yours. He’s looking to get laid, while you’re looking for forever as if such a thing exists. He’ll win, and you’ll lose. You heard it here first.” he said. “The cop’s relationship is on his terms, while yours is all on her terms. Once you ask her for a promise you deserve more than anyone ever did, she’s not going to see it as love but as a threat then she’ll tell you to get lost. This relationship is all about her. I told you that from day one. If you put this in terms of “the scenario” then you’ll see what I’m saying.”

“What’s “the scenario” you’re spewing of?”

“Think about it, Land. She has two kids, right?”

“That’s right. So that’s “the scenario”? That’s all you have? What are you trying to spin?”

“You need to put a marriage, any marriage, in perspective. You need to understand she can’t do the things she used to do with her kids around.”

“Like what?”

“Like having sex as much as they used to? Kids basically murder a couple’s sex life. Most of the time they end up in bed with her, I bet. They have to basically shuttle the kids off to summer camp, or have them sleep the night at a friend’s house to have sex.”

I couldn’t say anything as all Mitch described began to eat away at me enough to sweat and tremble.

“Dude, she can’t have sex with him like she used to so she’s using you to fill that role.” he continued. “She’s totally using you, even lovebombed you because she knew how to hook you, and even threw in a tale or two about her husband’s cheating to seal the deal. Even though it never bothered her deeply enough to leave him. She’s isn’t staying for the sake of her kids. She’s staying for the sake of his money. He could bang whoever he wants and she’d still stay. His money buys her kids happiness and that’s why she stays. She’s never gonna leave him for you and your one bedroom hideaway. Any married woman in her situation would fall in love with you because the relationship is how and when she wants it. She even probably tells you, but you’re not. If you were special, she’d be right here next to you, and you wouldn’t be here by yourself tonight. She’s going to ride you until you start bucking hard enough to throw her off of you. When you want a promise you deserve, the pressure to do the right thing will be too much for her, and that’s when she’ll let you go. And in the end, all you’ll ever be to her was a good time but only a memory, until the next sucker comes along.”

“Are you through?” I asked.

“He gave her a freebie to even the score, Land. After this, her husband will have her all to himself again. She loses nothing she hasn’t already lost.” he stated. “But you lose everything you were.”

I couldn’t look at him as he spoke as I took his words to heart. These weren’t things I didn’t consider at times but Mitch added reasons behind them. For instance, I felt at times it seemed the relationship was all on her terms, but I never considered if those terms were altered would I be special enough to be with and if it was the real reason she loved me so much? Wouldn’t true love be on the terms of both people, and not just on the terms of one? Did she “lovebomb” me from the very beginning so I’d drop my guard? So, she could better manipulate my feelings and even control them in her favor? Was it also possible Jackson’s cheating never bothered her? That the unhappiness she felt in her marriage was from a lack of privacy with the kids around? That her unhappiness was only rooted in the general unhappiness that usually came with any marriage? Have I been both used and misled? Did she use me for the feeling and for unhindered stress relief?

“I think it’s time for me to go home...” I said.

“Dude, the night is young. Kick her to the curb before it’s too late. Save yourself, bro.” he said as he put his hand on my shoulder “Let’s hang out again, and get you back in the game. There’s no future with this chick.”

I nodded at Mitch and didn’t say a word, too upset to. I then took a final swig of the beer I bought. When I put the bottle down, Mitch smiled at me as I put my hand on his shoulder then patted his back.

“You’re wrong. Take care.” I said as I brushed past him.

“In two months…it’s over.” he yelled as I exited. “I’ll be seeing you soon!”

On my way out, I witnessed the paramour at the bar with her cop interest as it made me wish Anya had enough courage to be as bold. In an effort, just to feel like a normal human being, I felt even lower than the roach I accidentally squashed as I stepped out of Paseos. When I finally got home, I couldn’t sleep as my mind raced along an endless road at a hundred scenarios an hour. When I knew sleep would not be in the immediate cards, I booted up my desktop computer and googled Lance the romantic singer. It brought me to his website and when I clicked the link, it told of a few new songs he recently added. They were “teaser” songs from a project he currently worked on, an all romantic-Spanish concept CD, all written in Spanish. As I read this it brought me back to the time when Anya told me she loved Spanish music and she didn’t know why but whenever she listened, she thought of me. After what Mitch told me this evening, it made me wonder even though I disagreed with his assumptions.

Lance’s website had a brief narrative about a Christmas CD he hoped to release by the end of this year, one produced by the same people who produced Michael Buble’s last CD. He then ended his synopsis to let his website visitors know he still performed for the world’s most famous and elite. I decided to take a listen, and to my surprise the song was in English, but the words he immaculate voice used to convey their emotion grabbed me by the throat, as they spoke of a lost love. I then noticed his other short narrative was still on his page as it told of “a tragic end to wonderful relationship” and if his immaculate voice didn’t pierce my heart, the words he chose did. What if Anya felt all men were like Jackson? What if she lovebombed men with a subconscious purpose to destroy them emotionally for what Jackson did to her? Why did it appear the men, who truly loved and cared for her, were left to pay the price for Jackson’s conscious choices? It made me so sick to consider a cold possibility, that there were just as many ways she didn’t love as there were ways she did. As I imagined her next to Jackson on this night, while I sat alone in the dark, with a computer my only friend at four in the morning, I knew I'd need a miracle to get a minute of sleep on this night.

For the first time, I began to consider Lance left Anya not because she had kids, but because she asked him to. Now, I found myself in his shoes, and I felt betrayed simply due to the fact these kids existed in her life before she met me, and even more so because I walked away. She had five months in my absence to consider how a divorce would affect her kids. Anya told me she couldn’t help when we met, but I felt I did when I left her at the bar on our first date. I didn’t think this was payback at all, but I felt her “what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him” mentality wasn’t fair if it allowed me to be here. If I were to ask Anya for a promise would she deny me that? Would her answer reveal all I needed to know about her love for me? Was Mitch right about this? That her love for me only existed because it was a secret? Why did it take me fifteen months to see what Mitch could?

I believed in Anya’s love even though his assessments were possibilities. I couldn’t put my faith in Mitch because he messed around with women for sport, even married ones. He never dared to love someone so how could a coward in love ever be on my level enough to give me advice on love? What did he know about love? He never had the courage to love anyone. It’s as if he saw me jump out of an airplane with a parachute and an instructor with me yet advised to not jump out because there’s a chance the chute won’t open regardless of the five practice runs we had. I loved Anya and cared for her happiness beyond my own. There’s just no way I could be convinced she led me here, all this way, for nothing.

When the morning arrived, I sent her a text to wish her a good morning and to see how her night went with Jackson’s ex-mistress.

ANYA: “Good morning! She glared at me. Yea it was a fun f**ing nite! Sorry. How r u?”

ME: “I’m sorry babe. I’m okay. Just thinking of you. What do you think her problem is? It’s been 15 years.”

ANYA: “Sorry was driving. Who knows. Just got to Andrew’s 1st game in Tustin.”

It seemed as if she drove to the game alone as I waited forty-five minutes to hear back from her. I really didn’t know what to make of her text. Was she mad at Jackson, in the sense she still harbored feelings for him? Or was she mad because she felt stuck with him and would rather be with me? I’d ask her but if she feared it would hurt me, I’d never get the truth from her anyway. This latest sign from the universe could now go either way.

When I didn’t hear back from her while she watched Andrew’s game, and exacerbated by Mitch’s words, I felt forgotten. I had to reach out to her this morning, and after all she went through at the game, why did she refuse to lean on me, especially if she had no feelings for Jackson? To imagine her next to him, while she “glared” at her, made it almost seem Anya won a prize that day; she was with the successful philanderer, while the other woman’s marriage fell apart. To me, the other woman won simply because it seemed like she found a good life partner. What did Anya gain? A lifetime of memories and questions of what truly happened between them? It made me sick to imagine she chose to sit loyally next to Jackson, with me in her life and didn’t use the situation as an opportunity to feel close to me. To make it seem like we sat together. For some reason, this wasn’t the Anya I knew, as I felt she still harbored feelings for Jackson. I then began to feel this sign from the Universe was never meant for me, but to rekindle feelings for her husband. When I considered this possible change in fortune, I felt abandoned by everything good in my life, and anything good that ever happened to me. When these negative emotions found a place to roost, I tried to release the mental anguish.

ME: “You must be near Mr. Wonderful. Chat later.”

If she loved me and had any plans to be with me, why didn’t she grab this opportunity to feel close to me? She would’ve jumped all over this before this lady showed up at the games, and after Mitch’s harsh words last night, her silence felt as if she played me for a fool.

ANYA: “I love you.”

I feared she’d either ignore my text, not respond for a couple of hours or respond with a “huh”? I never expected “I love you”, and that’s what made it a potent elixir to my mental virus.

ME: “I love you too.”

Later that afternoon, when Andrew’s game ended, she tried to reconnect with me.

ANYA: “Hey you. I miss you.”

Her text inspired me to sing an old catchy tune by The Scorpions. “Hey you, I’m in love with your eyes, And the sound of your name. Hey you, I’m in love with your smile. And the way you’re dressed today.” When I realized I still had a horrible voice, at least I knew I had a beautiful face I could put to the song “Hey You”, now. If I needed any proof I was madly in love with Anya, these two texts from her calmed the waves, from within that just minutes earlier threatened to capsize me.

ME: “Hey babe! I miss you too.”

ANYA: “Did you have your plain rice with truffle oil?”

ME: “I made it last night. Still doesn’t taste as good as yours though!”

ANYA: “I’d love to make it for you again.”

ME: “I’d pay you for it if you would make it for me again. It’s that good.”

ANYA: “Oh stop! You’re never going to pay me! You’re just silly now! I will try when we meet next week. Where r u next week?”

ME: “I’ll be at the home office all week.”

ANYA: “It would be easier if I went to your place on a weekday, right? I couldn’t stay long. It would just be harder to bring you the rice on the weekend.”

ME: “What’s a good weekday for you?”

ANYA: “Friday?”

ME: “Perfect!”

ANYA: “K!”

With two sweet texts, and a series of them that set up the first time we would see each other since her nearly fateful letter to me, I forgot all about the negativity that led me astray during the weekend. Into the next day, the second one in March, I could feel Anya’s excitement as much as my own throughout the morning, in her texts to me, as her love nourished where I felt deficient.

ANYA: “I can’t wait it’s been so long!”

ANYA: “Good morning! I’m good. At orthodontist office w/the kiddos! They are going to be late today. How r u? I miss u.”

ANYA: “Sorry just dropped kids off at school. I miss you very much too. It hasn’t been easy.”

ANYA: “Can’t believe I’m going to see you in 4 days!”

As I fed off an excitement I hadn’t felt in a while, positivity shot through me like an electric current, a surge that shocked my low self esteem into submission, however it also increased the risk to be struck by lightning.

ANYA: “I’m kinda nervous now!”

ME: “It’s funny but I get nervous before I see you, but when I do it’s like I’m around you every day. Hard to explain.”

ANYA: “R u nervous about Friday?”

ME: “A little bit I guess. I’m more anxious than anything.”

ANYA: “Promise me you’re going to be okay with Friday?”

Her request suggested this rush of mine came with a caveat, just like everything else seemed to. Why wouldn’t I be okay? Would it now be fair for me to request a promise from her to leave her husband? Did she consider she could be the cause behind the anxiety, and not me? After she found Katie’s essay and her letter to me, this was a profound moment in our relationship. A testament to all we shared and felt for each other, yet she still tried to find a way to ruin it. Did her nervousness truly have anything to do with me at all? Did she fear I’d experience an emotional letdown afterwards? If that’s the case, how did she know she wouldn’t be in danger of the same? After all, she said “it hasn’t been easy”. If we felt the same way about each other, then how could her emotional letdown be more manageable or less than mine?

Her words put my fear into play once again, but more than anything, I wanted her to prove everything Mitch told me was wrong. When she didn’t, it made it that much harder for me to understand. I wanted her to give me something I could go to Mitch with so he could never spew another theory. Although I’d never ask for the kind of promise she asked me for because she was entitled to those emotions, after I contemplated my knee jerk reaction to her nervousness, I realized what she tried to communicate; she couldn’t afford to have an emotional breakdown in front of her kids. A part of me felt a little envious at times because her kids gave her something I didn’t have; they took her away from the loneliness after each time we departed. She didn’t feel the darkness after our meetings, as strong as I did, because she had someone there for her. A mother with cancer wasn’t the best of buffers for my loneliness, as her malady only enhanced it. Although I found it unfair for Anya to demand a promise that I’d be okay after our meeting, at the same time, I understood why she did. In order to be a fair request, she should’ve also made a promise to me to not have mixed feelings once she returned home. To miss me terribly one day and then vanish on me the next as if I didn’t exist. How fair would it be to her if ever I tried to control her emotions? Love was just that, an emotion and its energy was uncontrollable upon demand.

ME: “I’ll be okay with Friday. I’ll miss you when you leave like I always do, but I’m just happy I get to spend time with you.”

Anya’s nervousness derailed my excitement, as I perceived it as an effort to control my heavy emotions; as if I had a choice in the matter. Did she not see the role her “mixed feelings” played in my emotional letdowns? How they made me feel unsafe and fearful at times? Why did she find it such a noble act to hide her emotions from her kids after all we’ve shared? We’ve been together for fifteen months now, and not fifteen days. I didn’t see the nobility in living a lie after Jackson’s infidelities and emotional abuse led her to approach me. She initiated the entire relationship at this point as I let her run the show. I knew her true feelings because I watched her call the shots, all on her terms. If she didn’t want us, then it would be the greatest betrayal ever. If the Bible meant a thing, he was not a husband. Husbands, men who truly loved their wives, didn’t use them as vehicles to make a name for themselves. They didn’t allow their wives to put themselves in harm’s way. They didn’t allow them to feel guilty about not protecting an abusive marriage. Husbands never used their wives to serve their pursuit of money and the finer things in life. This was a coup the minute he proposed to her. If Jackson planned to fight for Anya, how would he intend to win at this point now that his infidelities stared him right in the face at his son’s baseball games? Would she not allow Andrew to be friends with that woman’s son? I played team sports and they had to be friends on some level as teammates. Worst yet, what if Andrew and him became good friends and Anya now had to interact with her more? Was this the kind of life she would want Katie and Andrew to live for the sake of money? How was living with these kinds of negative emotions in a marriage acceptable to have, especially after she had me? I went from belief in our love to disbelief she was still married after all we shared and all she’s ever went through with Jackson. How could she try to control my emotions about this? It was the equivalent of me asking her to not feel any emotions at the games around the woman who aided in the destruction of her marriage. I didn’t have emotional letdowns just to have them. I hated them as much as she did, but I couldn’t stop them as much as she tried to control me from not having them. I’ve already been shot, and you can’t take the bullet back.

As the evening fell upon us, and my day came to an end, Anya sent me a text to let me know she planned to go over Debbie’s house to watch the final episode of “The Bachelor” with Katie in tow. With an overflow of emotions from her earlier text, I don’t know why, but it brought a tear to my eye as I found it sweet she got to spend some time together with Katie. It also brought memories of “The Bachelorette” episode we watched together as I decided to watch it with them, but from afar. This time around though on the show, the guy had the choice, and he claimed to be in love with two women at the same time. All I could think of as I watched it was after all I did with and for Anya, how could that be possible? To be truly in love with two women at the same time seemed like a farce to me because of all the work that goes into loving someone. The investment in these women were too minimal for him to be in love with both. It sure seemed people nowadays just threw the word love around as if it meant nothing. If it’s televised, it annoyed me that the masses, and there were more people who were unable to process information properly than those who were able to, could believe this love was real. Although were in different zip codes, I watched this show’s finale with both Anya and Katie, with hope they would both see how love should be. For them to both witness, so if her mother left her father, that love conquered all, albeit on national television. “The Bachelorette” though, I bought in, so why not “The Bachelor”? After “The Bachelorette” finale, Anya texted me throughout and even told me all she wants is to be happy again. I knew from my experience with Anya, this show touched her, and I wanted it to do the same with Katie to bear witness to it. As a huge part of me wanted to believe it’s why she brought her there. So that she could see the goodness in love, and why it was so important to have and not let go of. To know I was the man, and not her father, who made Katie’s mother happy, I wanted this episode to be an extension of that. For Katie to see for herself, how important love was to have in life. How important happiness meant. That happiness didn’t come from money and accomplishments, but from love.

This time however, “The Bachelor”, seemed to be more like Jackson, as he told these two women, he truly loved them both. At a time I needed the show to portray love in its truest form, to an audience of two that mattered to me, it made a mockery of love’s meaning. I then watched the bachelor break a heart as the show lost its value to me as I turned off the television in disgust. When I needed a positive message the most, it seemed the Universe shifted, then turned its back on me and hung me out to dry. I began to fear, more than ever, that these baseball games only rekindled a flame from Anya for Jackson. And whether true or not, my low self esteem didn’t care as it told me history was on the verge of a repeat in the worst way imaginable. All I could do was do was hope that Katie saw wasn’t close to the love I had for her mother. That if someone loved two women at the same time only meant they didn’t know true love at all, but that’s what I had with her mother; true love. I believed one could be attracted to two people at the same time, but to truly love two people at the same was lust driven more than anything. In true love, the heart only had room for one reservation, never two.

I watched the show in the same room I danced with her, dried her tears and had lunch with her. So many memories of us filled my apartment, I lost count of them all. They appeared at fond intervals, uninitiated, but even unwanted at times to deal with the sorrow as I felt on this evening as I never heard from her the entire night. I knew nothing in life worth having was never easy, but I didn’t believe love should be this difficult. To know Anya’s love from a year ago would have texted me no matter what made her silence hard on the heart. I wanted to chalk it up to her daughter’s presence, but this was the same woman who wasn’t afraid to leave her daughter in Abercrombie just to catch a glimpse of me, was now afraid to text me, and that hurt a lot. But I guess it was a good thing Anya didn’t text me about the show because I had nothing positive to share about I anyway.

The next morning when I awoke with a less fatigued mind, I sent Anya a text to wish her a good morning and to let her know I watched the show with a brief sentence about its message.

ANYA: “Good morning! I think the whole show was staged. Anyone going on national TV to find true love deserves what they get I guess. Oh well, fun to watch though.”

ME: “I agree. I thought the show was staged too. How r u?”

ANYA: “I’m good. Just leaving to meet a girlfriend for a circuit class. How r u? How’s your mom?”

ME: “My mom is fine babe, thanks for asking. I’m good. I can’t wait to see you on Friday!”

ANYA: “Me too! Still nervous!”

ME: “Is it because you’re afraid I’m going to have another breakdown?”

ANYA: “Yes”

A punctuation oddity appeared in her text; she omitted a period. Did that mean something? Did it signify anger? Distress? Sadness? Fear? All of the aforementioned? Or was she just forgetful? Or maybe in a hurry? I really didn’t know, but I chose to be compassionate to her concern regardless. The only struggle I had with her was how she made it seem love could easily be controlled. That for me to show emotion would be an irrational act on my part. She seemed to forget all about how this deep connection worked, and I felt she even disrespected it. It made it seem like she no longer believed in love, let alone our love, and that is was indeed, as she always thought of marriage, unrealistic. She made me feel as if the choice to be hurt, after she left, was mine at all anymore. That I had no right to feel that way and it was all in my control. Fifteen months later, Anya lost nothing. Her life never truly changed as I felt with each passing day our relationship was a gift from Jackson to even the score; a freebie for her. It also worried me about her emotions; that an uncertainty existed within her and if this was love she felt or just an infatuation. I knew what I wanted from day one of our relationship, and Anya led me to believe she knew the same thing. If she couldn’t understand my emotions, and how much my life changed while her life remained the same, how could she truly feel the same thing for me as I felt for her? The time had come for me to face a cold harsh truth; if she had any mixed feelings, and she still didn’t know, then she couldn’t possibly have known if she truly loved me. It didn’t mean she didn’t care for me, but did she need me? She had everything she needed in life, more than what others had, so what was her incentive to be with me if she had nothing to lose anyway? If Jackson allowed our relationship so she could settle the score between them? Why did she care so much about the woman at the game if she had me in her life?

ME: “The last time you came to see me, what you did for me was really unexpected. I’ve never felt loved before that much and my emotions got the best of me. Is there a reason for your nervousness beyond me having an emotional breakdown? Will it be too emotional for you as well?”

ANYA: “I’m ok. Sorry, for the late response. Carolyn had a lot to say. Couldn’t break away. Don’t get me wrong. I’m excited about Fri!”

I began to fear maybe Carolyn told her she saw me at Paseos and then tried to talk Anya out of meeting me on Friday. A possible scenario if Carolyn was concerned that I knew about her own marital tryst, and in case I told Anya anything, why wouldn’t she try and make me appear untrustworthy to Anya? I wanted to ask her what Carolyn had to say, but what if Anya asked about Paseos? I only went there for twenty minutes, so it was hardly worth mentioning. I didn’t want it to upset Anya emotionally as well as I remembered the last time she said it made her sad I was there by myself without her. In the end, I went with Anya’s approach to honesty; I’ll be honest but only if she asks. Now I hoped she would ask, only so she could see how unfair a form of truth by omission was.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

As the busy season trudged on, and another day progressed while the stress continued to mount, Anya sent me a text out of the blue at about three that afternoon.

ANYA: “I love you forever.”

After my heart devoured the life it gave, and after I responded in kind, the rest of the day seemed like a one hour shift for me. Anya had a way to make me feel so much sadness for my negative emotions. When she sent me texts like these, it felt I let her down with my horrible thoughts of her, but they were also born from the fear she gave me at times when she had mixed feelings. I appreciated the gesture at a time I desperately needed it as I seemed to be more sensitive to everything. The stress, the fatigue I felt only compounded the fear and Anya was the one I leaned on. She was rooted deep within in me and I needed her feet planted deep in the ground in order to survive the turmoil that seemed to build around me more and more each passing day.

Later that evening, at around five, she texted me again to see if I started the fourth book of the “Twilight” series; “Breaking Dawn”.

ME: “I did. Have you?”

ANYA: “Yes.”

ME: “What page are you on?”

ANYA: “173.”

At times like this, when the Anya I desperately needed and hoped for, the one void of nervousness and welcomed my emotions made an appearance through her “173” text, my laugh bellowed in my office. After I received a “What’s so funny, Landyn?” from the people outside my office and told them it was nothing, I shut my door and just smiled at the face of my phone. When they came around to look inside my office without a foot set in, I just waved them off and pointed at my computer screen as they shook their heads. When I composed myself after Anya had touched me from miles away, why I loved her so much, she then sent me another text to let me know she had to go as Andrew had another baseball game.

I didn’t hear back from her for the entire evening as once again I felt my bipolar tendencies. For the last four hours, I had an unbelievable high, but now I had to sleep off this schizophrenia I experienced. There were no in between these highs and lows, just extremes existed for me now as I reached for a Vicodin to find some balance between the two. When the euphoria from the opiate hit me. I sent Anya a good night text before I fell asleep just before one.

ME: “Hey 173! That’s your new name. I’m just getting ready for bed. Baby, don’t be nervous about Friday. It will be light and with no serious talk. I’m just really happy to spend some time with you. It might be emotional for both of us, but in a good way b/c it’s been a long time since we’ve seen eachother. It feels like I haven’t seen you in a year, or maybe I just miss you that much. I just hope you like your thingie! I can’t wait to give it to you! It won’t hurt me if you can’t wear it all the time but it means everything to me that you have it to wear when you can. Just like the moon, the stars, every constellation and galaxy in their natural everlasting state up in the heavens, I will always be in love with you. It’s just the way it is and the way it will always be. Goodnight babe.”

The euphoria from the opiate at times could inspire me to feel things on a somewhat irrational level, but I meant every opiate inspired word. I knew one truth in this life through her, and I would always love her no matter what happened, even if I tried not to.

When the new day arrived, so did Anya’s response.

ANYA: “Good morning! Thx for the texts last night. I’m going to love my thingie! It’s from you! I like my new name!”

ME: “I hope those texts helped ease the nervousness. How r u?”

ANYA: “I’m good! Just got out of KB! Yes they helped thank you. Can’t wait!”

ME: “Hard to believe I’m going to see u in 2 days!”

ANYA: “I know!”

Later in the day, Anya told me she planned to go to a friend’s birthday dinner party later that evening. Most of that day came and went without a single text from her until I received one just before I went to bed.

ANYA: “Just leaving Marie’s dinner. Goodnight. I love you.”

ME: “Goodnight. I love you too.”

When I thought I heard the last of her, she sent another text my way.

ANYA: “Can’t wait!”

It amazed me how one finger tap on her Blackberry keys transported me to a better or worse place as her final text made a very tough day for me magically fade away, as if she wielded a magic wand. For the first time in my life, I truly stood upon the most precarious precipice of the human mind. I seemed to lose my sense of self, no longer the goal oriented, pro risk man I once was, but a man now consumed by perpetual anxiety. An uneasiness brought forth by a lack of control I had over my own fate. I no longer lived life from where I sat but rather from where she sat. A co-dependency beyond comprehension, one that put me on a collision course with my own destruction as I could lose everything and all I ever worked for. My focus was no longer career oriented but instead dependent on her love for me. They say that actions were louder than words, so if she wasn’t ambivalent to her marriage, why did her actions allow me to believe that she was? Was her goal to encourage me to make her ambivalent? She was clearly ambivalent to her marriage before she met me, otherwise she would’ve never dated Lance. How could she ever believe for a second, let alone say, she wasn’t ambivalent to her marriage after the last fifteen months together? She had to be ambivalent to her marriage no matter what she told me. Before I heard from Anya on this day, I felt angry, sad, and alone. These were feelings I couldn’t ignore nor should ever feel from someone who loved me, yet I still did. However, I also had to consider if these feelings were more pronounced because of the stress and fatigue I felt from work and not from anything Anya did. Was I going crazy? Did I need professional help to sort through it all?

I rarely had dreams of my mother, but on this night, she came into one. I walked down the driveway of my parent’s home, and tried to enter the house through the backdoor like I always did. On the back door, there’s a window with a shade and when the shade is not drawn down, you can see the top of the washing machine to the right of the window as you get to the door. When I was very young, I would sit on the washing machine and read while my mom washed clothes. The sound and warmth of the washing machine relaxed me, but I also got to hang out with my mom who helped me with some of the larger words. The back door was always open, and if by a rare occurrence it wasn’t, there was a key hidden in the electrical fuse box cabinet on the side of the house, right next to the back door. In my dream, as I approached the back door, the door was locked, but I could see my mother through the window as she was seated on the washing machine. I laughed at her childish act, as I waited for her to open the back door, but she didn’t. She just sat there on the washing machine, with her hairless head and smiled at me. I then decided to go to the electric fuse box cabinet to grab the hidden key, a little annoyed with this game she played with me. After I grabbed the key, I went back to the door and tried to open the door but the key didn’t work. I then looked up to see my mother, who I expected to open the backdoor for me when she no longer sat on the washing machine, but stood before me. However, she didn’t open the door for me, but just waved at me, as if to say good-bye with a smile no longer on her face, while she pulled the shade slowly down. I then woke up abruptly, and frantically recalibrated my mind back to reality until I realized this was only a dream. I couldn’t help though but feel a sadness wash over me as it felt the universe had told me something my mother could not. From that moment on, I could never look at the backdoor to my house, one I entered and exited a million times, the same way again. The dream felt so real, it hit me hard the next day at work as it coincided with another chemo day for my mother.

Thankfully, a sorely needed text from Anya greeted me in the morning.

ANYA: “Good morning! One more day!”

It meant a lot to see her excitement and not her apprehension as I needed her, more than ever, to not show mixed feelings as much as she didn’t want me to show her my emotions.

ME: “Good morning! Somebody pinch me! Hard to believe! Can’t wait babe! How r u this morning?”

ANYA: “Ha! I’m happy! Excited! How r u?”

It warmed my heart to feel the happiness through her texts as it’s why I fought through all my negative emotions.

ME: “I’m good! I’m always good whenever you’re happy!”

ANYA: “Does your mom go in again today.”

ME: “She goes in tomorrow. Very sweet of you to ask.”

ANYA: “I’m sorry babe. Do you want to go see her tomorrow? I could meet you towards your parent’s house if you want me to?”

ME: “Thank you for your thoughtfulness, babe, but my Dad will be with her so we can still meet at my place.”

Her thoughtfulness touched me as tears filled my eyes as the dream I had about my mother played a role in my sudden emotions. I not only had big hopes for us, but even bigger plans for us, and they centered around the introduction of my mother to Anya one day. I just knew they would hit it off, but my mother’s condition now made it seem impossible. Without my awareness, it created an urgency for her to leave Jackson as I wanted so badly to believe it’s why the Universe intervened in the form of a person from Anya’s past to not only hasten, but to make the decision to leave him much easier. Unfortunately, I had a lifetime of the Universe’s unfairness towards me to refer to that wouldn’t allow me to think that positively. This was Anya at her very best though. The Anya I missed every single minute of every single day. The Anya I’d die for as she connected with me in such a way, it seemed like she knew everything about the dream I had.

Later that afternoon, the Anya I knew and loved, stayed consistent with the Anya I dreamt of dropping a knee for under the Eiffel Tower.

ANYA: “Hi! Counting down!”

ME: “Hey babe! T-Minus 24 hours! R u nervous?”

ANYA: “Yes. Butterflies! R u nervous?”

ME: “I’m way more excited than nervous.”

ANYA: “Me too!”

Anya’s sweet and thoughtful texts were like blood transfusions as I almost felt reborn and saved from the merciless despair I felt over the last week. With all the things that piled upon me, I felt lost emotionally, but as I tried to make sense of my sadness, it made me feel even worse. Her texts saved me from my own destruction, as they brought back memories of the first days of our love. To feel that; to know these feelings still existed, made me feel moronic and ashamed to ever question if they still did. I just really needed to see and feel her excitement about the visit. To have the safety to know her feelings mirrored mine. Her texts also showed she trusted me, and that she understood how much I loved and needed her right now.

My great day continued when Anya sent me a text later that evening.

ANYA: “What page are you on now? And don’t tell me 173 mister!”

ME: “172.”

ANYA: “Ha!”

ME: “Did I tell you I can’t wait to see you tomorrow?”

ANYA: “Haha! Me too. Having issues with Katie right now. Sorry.”

ME: “Sorry to hear that babe. I’m here if you need me.”

Although I never heard back from her for the rest of that evening, my heart was full of love and hope. No room to feel distress but only compassion for her. Something I’d much rather feel as I loved her too much to give in to the Mitch consensus. I refused to believe she could love anyone this much without any intent to find a way to be with them someday. She just needed a little more time to figure it out. Anya wasn’t the type of person Mitch wanted to believe she was. He had an ulterior motive to be against her; he wanted to hang out with me again for the free ride home as I’m sure the taxi cabs emptied his wallet. I knew people, like Mitch, on the outside who looked in, wouldn’t understand, but they were just like deep-sea scientists who couldn’t understand the type of creatures they encountered at such depths and how they were able to survive in conditions so dark. Like ant deep sea life form, I had to trust in the conditions that gave me so much life, regardless of the unfavorable situation that surrounded me. I bet my life that Anya was a much better person than the man she married, and a true victim of spousal abuse. More than anything, I believed she was in this to be with me one day, and not to steal my soul.

When the day arrived, a day I waited nearly six weeks for, to see the most beautiful person in this world to me, I never felt so elated to see her. I breathed easier. Slept longer. Smiled more. And lived life as if this day was my last. I couldn’t be happier in life than when Anya was in eye’s reach. Every day of my life seemed like a chore, but never with Anya in it as she became my greatest inspiration. To me, every beautiful thing on this planet, that made someone grateful to be alive, was Anya. These moments I spent with her felt so wonderful, and they were why I fought the negative emotions where others would fall to disbelief. It’s why I took the hits to my heart, and why I persisted on its beat as I knew, it would fail to beat without these moments.

On the day of our meeting, Anya sent me a text early that morning as I could hardly contain all the excitement I felt.

ANYA: “Good morning! Sorry about last night! Girl drama w/her friends. I’ll c u soon!”

ME: “Good morning! No need to apologize babe. Just happy you were there for her. R u nervous?”

I don’t know what prompted me to ask as I instantly regretted it. I guess I expected to read “So excited!” or “Can’t wait!”, like she usually texted to me on day we met as I sensed more excitement from her four days ago than on the day were to meet. After six weeks since the last time we saw each other, her response void of enthusiasm, struck fear in me.

ANYA: “A bit. U?”

ME: “A little but I’m much more excited.”

ANYA: “Me too.”

As we reached most crucial and pivotal point in our relationship, my uneasiness prompted me to pay extra close attention to every detail in her word and punctuation usage, and when I didn’t see an exclamation point follow “but I’m much more excited”, it only left me to wonder if she truly was.

ME: “Are you sure, babe?”

ANYA: “Yes!”

ME: “Ok! Did u have a rough night with Katie, Sweetheart?”

ANYA: “Yes. Just the beginning.”

When she revealed she had a rough night with Katie, my fear receded. I knew how teenagers were from my days at the Daycare, and how easily parents went from hero to villain. Katie entered a tough time in her life. Women matured sooner than boys did, and she was trying to figure out who she was, and where she fit in. I knew her parents pushed her to give her best at everything she did, but she needed to figure out where to allocate her time as she couldn’t give the best of herself to two different activities that took up all of her free time if she wanted to be happy. I know she loved dance, but it seemed like school was of greater importance and the best place to allocate her time to. Anya and Jackson were both good parents. I could never question their views on the importance of a good education, and although Anya felt Katie had a “big head”, I felt to instill confidence in your children was a great thing as long as humility was present. I wished someone instilled confidence in me as a lot of my low self esteem issues came from my father who tore me down more than he ever built me up. Who told me of all the things I could never do and never of the things I could, all because life experiences taught him that. I could be upset with my father and question him, but I could never blame him because he wasn’t aware of the damage it caused. In some ways it worked, but most of the time, it only worked against me. I never attended the best schools. I never got straight ‘A’’s, but it lit a fire under me to prove him wrong, and in just three months from this day, I’d be a partner of a large growing local CPA firm with a salary of a half million dollars per year. Regardless, I’ll always remember what my Dad wrote on that chalkboard, when I was at the bottom of my life; “Landyn does not make college”. At my lowest point in life, he kicked me when I was down to the point I didn’t know if I wanted to be alive. At those times I felt less than zero, I often wondered if I was never a CPA, if he would’ve cut me out of his life completely. If we would ever talk today even as my mother fought cancer. Failure was just never an option for me, and the fear of failure only led me to work harder as I never wanted my dad to be right about me; that I wasn’t the mistake he made thirty-eight years ago.

Anya agreed to meet at my place at eleven thirty that morning. The only cause of my nervousness was I wondered if she would like her necklace. Even though I felt it was simple, pure and beautiful like our love, what if she looked upon it differently? This was the first time I ever bought jewelry for a girl, and to be brutally honest, I never felt inspired to buy jewelry for a girl before because I had never truly been in love until now. What if she didn’t accept it? What if she had mixed feelings and told me she didn’t feel right about it without a promise? As I thought of these total disaster scenarios, I worried how this could all go wrong today, and how her visit could turn into her last. When the clock struck thirty-five minutes past the hour, my worries sprang to life until I received a text from her.

ANYA: “Almost there”

A late arrival time, on a day of such significance where I planned to give her a show of my love, gave me enough anxiety to feel sick to my stomach. And as every minute passed, it seemed to suggest her excitement was replaced by reluctance. When it seemed the walls of my apartment collapsed upon me, I then walked downstairs and waited for her at the gate. Ten minutes later at eleven fifty, and twenty minutes later than she agreed to, I received the text I always loved to read as I watched her appear inside the parking lot from where I stood.

ANYA: “Here”

I didn’t want her to know I waited outside as I didn’t want her to feel bad for being late, even on a day that meant so much. Anya feared my emotions, and a part of me understood why, but her “mixed feelings” is what contributed to them. She told me she was “excited” about today, but I knew her excitement over the last fifteen months was never twenty minutes late. In no uncertain terms, she told me she loved me, and she showed me in no uncertain terms, she did. If she had mixed feelings though, in any way, it made me question what her love meant. When she reached my gate, she looked more beautiful than I could remember, and if there was any reluctance to visit me, she sure didn’t dress the part. When I opened the gate for her, her eyes met mine with the same love in them they always greeted me with. She then bowed her head, unapologetically and spoke.

“I have to be honest.” she said as she looked back up at me. “I thought about turning around.”

‘Sweetheart.” I said as I softly touched her left palm and then held it in mine. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. There are no expectations. We’ll sit down and talk. I’ll give you your thingie. No pressure whatsoever. I’m just so happy you’re here I want to cry.”

Anya nodded her head, smiled, and tightened her grip on my hand as we began our journey into the unknown. A nervousness all its own then sprang to life as I worried about how to present the thingie to her. Do I leave it in the turquoise pouch? Do I take it out and hand it to her? Or do I just place it around her neck? I had no clue of jewelry presentation etiquette, all I knew was, I had a necklace for her that meant the world to me she had. The other mystery was that Anya didn’t know what this “thingie” actually was. It could have been a bracelet, a charm, or even a ring. If I was cheap and listened to her, it also could have been just a piece of string or a bamboo ring. The element of surprise was on my side though, and it made me feel a little better. After I worried, a smile broke upon my face when I realized I had something, at this very moment, I never thought I would ever have again: her hand in mine.

“What are you smiling about, babe?” she asked me as I reached the top of the steps.

“Just everything.” I said as I fought back my own tears.

When we got inside, I put her purse on the kitchen counter. Anya positioned herself behind me so when I turned around, she slowly crashed into my arms. I held her like I never wanted her to leave my arms as I held her tightly against me. We embraced for about a minute without a single word said because we simply didn’t need to. Uncertain about our status, I waited for a signal from her, and when she turned her face into mine, I knew she wanted to taste me as badly as I wanted to taste her. Nearly six weeks passed since we last saw each other. No tea in between, no talks near Cascade Park, and not even a ten minute visit. After all we’ve shared only the advances of text messaging kept us in contact with each other, and to say it didn’t hurt me would be the biggest lie ever told. I understood though that Katie’s essay was an unexpected event and how it could put her in a state of panic. As much as it hurt me, I loved her too much to penalize or punish her for it. As I held her in my arms it only proved once more; that even after a letter she penned to end us, each and every time she tried to pull away, her love and pain only shone through more than ever. I had to catch her because that’s what love did. Love always caught the ones who fell. My heart could only feel compassion for her. and then forgiveness even as she tried to end our relationship. Even when I considered worst case scenarios, I just wanted her back in my arms. To feel her. To hear her. To smell her. To taste her. To see her. To be with her so I could destroy myself all over again.

I rested my lips upon hers as I tasted the salt from the tears that came from her eyes. We then began to kiss more passionately as I brought my right hand up and upon where her head and neck met. With my left I brought her body into mine as she moaned with breathless pleasure. As we kissed, she told me “I’ve missed you so much” as my affirmative response only ignited our act of reconnection. Two minutes later, as we felt in need of air, I gently brought my head to hers.

“I love you forever.” I whispered.

“I love you forever.” she whispered back.

“Why are we whispering?” I whispered.

“I don’t know.” she whispered back.

“I’ll be right back.” I whispered as I kissed her on her lips.

“Hurry back please.” she whispered as her lips met mine. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more.” I whispered.

“Impossible.” she exclaimed without a whisper.

I laughed and kissed her once more before I left to go to my room to grab her “thingie”. I decided to remove it from its turquoise pouch as I reasoned if she knew it came from Tiffany & Co., she might have an idea how much I spent on it. I only wanted her to see it as simple, pure and beautiful, just like our love, and not where it came from. When I returned. she moved from the entranceway to the living room, as she stood near my desktop computer. As I made my approach, I dangled the thin silver necklace from my hand, and across my palm, so she could view it in its entirety. As I continued my journey to her that felt like slow motion, I noticed an invasion of sunlight through my drawn shades made it sparkle as I hoped the universe found a way to aid in its appeal. When she withdrew her eyes from mine and to what I held across my hand, she jumped three times and clapped with an excitement, the most genuine of reactions consistent with love I could’ve never predicted.

“Please put it on!” she said in anticipation as she turned her backside quickly to me as she held her hair up with both hands.

Before I put the necklace on, I admire her thin beautiful neck as it brought back memories when she visited me at five in the morning and had her hair up in a pony tail. After a few seconds passed after I located the small latch, I clasped it and then gently laid the piece of jewelry upon her tan skin. She turned around just as quickly as she did the first time.

“What do you think?” I asked with a huge smirk. “Did I do ok?”

“Ok?” she said as she looked down and felt it with her left hand then looked back up at me. “It’s beautiful. I love it babe.”

“I’m so relieved!” I said. “I asked the girl at the counter if she would have bought it for herself and she said she would.”

“Thank you, babe. I adore it.”

“I know it falls short, but it was the closest thing that I could find to be as beautiful

as you.” I said.

Her lips crashed softly into mine as I brought her body against mine. We then realized where we stood would no longer do, as we made our way to my bedroom to unleash and to feed our need for each other. As we loved each other for the next hour, I felt the truth in her every kiss, in her every touch and in her every “I love you” as we reconnected in the most intimate of ways; the truth Anya realized she overreacted to Katie’s letter. As the necklace graced her neck, I kissed her breastplate where it rested upon as she smiled each and every time I did. When I kissed her breastplate, as the necklace I got her laid upon it, it felt she belonged to me even when she technically didn’t. It made me fantasize I kissed her pregnant tummy if she carried my child, and if she wore my ring, as I’m sure I would’ve kissed that too. Regardless of the technicality, and after she made up her mind, I felt closer to her than ever before as she allowed me to feel as if she did belong to me as we loved each other without fear.

After an hour passed, as we lied down on my bed and faced each other, unable to remove our eyes from the other, she began to speak.

“I just love it.” she said as she looked at it on her neck and felt it with her left hand.

“I’m just happy you love it babe.” I said. “It’s an honor to have you wear something of mine.”

“Where did you find the “thingie”? How did you do this?”

“You know…I went to the “thingie” mall where they have lots of “thingie” stores. I talked to a sales person who then showed me many “thingies”.”

“Is this really the first time you’ve ever bought jewelry for a girl?”

“You’re the first recipient ever, babe.”

“Thank youuuuuuuuuu!” she said as she came into my arms as I laid on my back and held her in them. “I love you forever.”

“I love you forever.” I said as my lips met hers. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t turn around?”

“Yes, I am, babe. I’m sooo happy right now!”

“I’m sooo happy right now!” I exclaimed. “The way you feel about it just means the world to me.”

“I will wear it close to my heart forever.”

When she told me this, as sweet as she meant it to be, my heart sank into my stomach as my fear processed it as an admission from her; that I wouldn’t be around to see it on her. I fought back the tsunami of negative emotions her words generated as they threatened to end the beauty of our time together, but then she spoke again.

“If we get married, I would like to get married in Vegas first.” she sprung upon me.

Of course, my heart would’ve loved to hear “when we” instead of “if we”, but her request stymied the fear I felt and served as a reminder of why she was the first girl I ever bought a piece of jewelry for.

“Is there a particular reason why?” I asked with a smile I couldn’t hide from her.

“So, we wouldn’t be nervous at our real wedding because we’d already be married.” she responded.

“I see. The sooner we get married the better.” I said as I winked at her. “I love the way you think.”

Anya then laughed and rolled into me as we began to show each other affection once again as the day, that started out with so much fear, ended with our hearts back in tune, full of hope, with each other. As we both faced each other, we also faced reality; I couldn’t quit her as much as she couldn’t quit me. We talked more about marriage, and even about babies yet none of it scared us as we both wanted those things with our soulmate. On a day that could’ve easily went wrong rather quickly, became just another beautiful moment to our relationship and a testament to our love. On this day, when the time came for her to go, and before I could pull her back to me before she left, she put her arm around me and pulled me back in bed with her as I roared with laughter and the greatest sense of happiness I’ve ever known. She even stayed longer than she planned to as she left me convinced the day couldn’t have gone any better. As I walked her out, with her hand back in mine, the sun glistened with pride upon the small diamonds within the heart pendant. As the sun brought out the beauty in what she wore, I couldn’t help but notice the poetic justice of the Universe, and what seemed to be its acknowledgement, of how beautiful this day was to us.

I gave her a warm hug before she exited my gate and then stayed to wave goodbye to her as she drove off. Before she left, I caved in and gave her the Tiffany & Co pouch so she had a place to put my heart when she couldn’t wear it. As I walked back to my apartment, it was then I realized I didn’t know when I would see her again, as I didn’t want to put any pressure on her. All I could do was hope the sorrow and sadness to follow would not break me into pieces.

When Anya got home, as I asked her to do, she texted me.

ANYA: “I’m glad I have something from you I get to hold forever. I had a great time with you today just fooling around. You felt like home. I missed you so.”

Her text seemed to be another admission that a promise would never come, but after her talk of marriage and babies as we held each other in the most intimate sense, I found it to come from the fear I could leave her, and not from any kind of plan she failed to make me aware of.

ME: “It means everything to me that you have it now, and I’m so proud it means that much to you. I had a beautiful time as always. You felt like home to me too. I’ve missed you so much.”

ANYA: “Very proud to wear my thingie! I miss u!”

ME: “Thank you. That’s the greatest honor ever, babe. I miss u too!”

She then texted me again to say goodnight.

ANYA: “Thank u again. I love it. Goodnight. I love you.”

I went to bed with the knowledge the sixth day of March, in the year two thousand nine, was a really good day in my life as I felt back on track with life again. Without Anya, due to the mental aspect of my career. I feared it would succumb to this relentless and at times, distressing need for her love. Consistent with the beauty of the prior day, she was the first to text me the next morning.

ANYA: “Good morning. I just love my thingie. Sorry I keep saying that but I do. How’s your mom babe?”

ME: “I’m just elated you love it babe! She’s going in for her chemo treatment later today. She seems to be okay. How’s Katie doing?”

ANYA: “She’s torn between doing the right thing and the opposite. She has to learn to figure out politics. Life’s lesson. Hard to watch though.”

ME: “You can’t make everyone happy in life. You know that more than anyone, babe. She’s got you there for her so she’s in good hands. Miss u.”

ANYA: “Thank u. All I can do is be here for her and support her. It’s a curse to be smart and popular. I miss u too. I miss everything about yesterday. I miss us.”

When I read “It’s a curse to be smart and popular”, I felt it was there the true problem lied. How could Anya, in good conscience, knowing it’s a curse to be both smart and popular, not take it as an opportunity to teach her it was more important to be smart than popular? If Anya thought Katie had a “big head” it was because Anya seemed fearful of her. Shouldn’t Katie be more concerned about her grades than her social status? Didn’t Anya consider that it was their wealth, such as the access to horses and boats, that led to Katie’s popularity? If those could be identified as a source to the problem, why wouldn’t she suspend it for a while? This was a perfect example of what I faced that Anya never told me; the high value they placed on social status. Their status as figures of popularity seemed to suggest Anya built a co-dependency upon it, and used it as a platform to be recognized as one of the “cooler” parents. Unfortunately for my heart, no matter how abusive Jackson was, Anya never excluded him, nor made plans to even as we grew closer. I then remembered when Anya told me she would stand to lose seventy five percent of her friends if she were to leave Jackson. I personally didn’t see the great loss in them since a man she knew for a much less period of time than the seventy five percenters she feared to lose she recognized as her best friend. Or was my “best friend” status something she threw together so I would second guess myself at every turn? Would she rather lose her best friend and soulmate than the seventy percent of friends who probably were just only acquaintances used for networking purposes? Did these friends also hold the key to Katie’s popularity and it would be a double whammy if she lost them? I couldn’t help but think Anya felt if she left Jackson, the social status of her kids, and even herself. would take a monster hit and her kids would hate her. Again, another thing I had to deduce on my own. I then tried to bury her “smart and popular” portion of her text and instead focused on the beauty of yesterday.

ME: “Me too, baby. I miss everything.”

ANYA “Let me know when you run out of truffle oil. I can pick more up for you. Btw the oil doesn’t last forever. You can tell when it starts to get old by the smell. FYI.”

ME: “FYI. Wouldn’t you know I’m out of it now? What a coinkidink! See you soon!”

ANYA “Haha!”

After she gave me this bit of information, I decided to make the rice more often and made sure to use extra truffle oil each time I did.

Later that afternoon, another Saturday spent in the office, Anya sent me another text, an anomaly on Saturdays now that meant everything to me after the prior day together.

ANYA “Wearing the thingie! It’s so pretty!”

ME: “Of course it is! It’s on you! How r u, babe?”

ANYA “I’m good. I miss u.”

ME: “I miss u too, Sweetheart. I love how it sparkles in the sun and I love that you finally have something from me, especially with what you have to go through at the games.”

ANYA “I love that I have something from u too. I touch it all day long. You’re always with me. I love you very much.”

ME: “I didn’t know it was possible to smile and cry at the same time. I love you very much too.”

Saturdays brought the roughest days and nights of my life as my heart and mind waged a civil war within to understand her silence. On this Saturday however, Anya stayed in touch with me throughout and even after I reached out to her on a usual quiet evening from her.

ME: “I miss you.”

ANYA: “I miss u too. Thank you for my heart to hold onto. I love you.”

ME: “Thank you for holding it for me. I love you too.”

Her continued appreciation and love for the necklace my heart found for her saved my soul as I felt like her hero again. As if I had just found her lost treasured pet. There were some thing Anya said from time to time, that after Mitch tore me apart with, made me feel as if I had been duped. The necklace though, now forever hers, restored my faith in her love for me. If we survived Katie’s struggles, especially her overhearing of Anya’s threat to divorce Jackson, then truly nothing was impossible as Anya proclaimed before we started. To see her love reach me with the consistency of Friday, made me whole again, and wiped clean all I feared. To hear from her on a Saturday night gave me the greatest sense of peace I hadn’t felt in some time as I was able to finally catch up on the sleep I missed over the last week.

And the consistency I craved, carried through into the next morning, as I received her most hopeful text in a long time, if ever.

ANYA: “Good morning! I had the strangest dream. We got married but your parents asked us why we couldn’t move in together. We told her we can’t now but one day. The dream was so clear. They were standing around looking at us and we said we know that it looks odd to the world but we knew what we were doing.”

Although only a dream, I read somewhere, a dream was a wish your heart made, and it breathed life well beyond life into me. If she dreamt of marrying me, we had to find a way to make it come true as she dreamt for the both of us. I then thought of what she said the other day about getting married in Las Vegas first, and it got me to think; did anything really stop us from getting married before she divorced Jackson? Over the last fifteen months, without physically doing so, Anya found ways to touch me. Her I was, in wait of a promise from her, in need to hear the words “I promise to be with you”, instead, she offered something much more than a promise could ever give without a word, her love forever through a dream. An idea I never considered, to be married in secret, the ultimate promise to leave Jackson and to help me deal with the negative emotions until she did leave him. Before I could truly entertain the idea fully though, Anya sent me a follow-up text.

ANYA: “Sorry wasn’t trying to give you any ideas. It was my dream last night that’s all.”

I knew it was only a dream. I knew it was unrealistic, but I clung to hope whenever it presented myself, and this had a beautiful nature to it. I’m sure she considered my mother and her illness before this dream occurred. How she would’ve wanted my mother to know she loved her son, and I felt confident I knew Anya’s heart more than anyone. I then tussled with the idea of telling Anya my mother would understand more than she realized. I just didn’t know how she would respond to the choice I made to tell my mother about our relationship. She knew my mother and I were really close though, so maybe she’d understand from the perspective my mother supported her and gave me advice on us. If she only knew my mom; how much she liked her and how she always wanted a daughter. My mother would probably bond with Anya so much, if we ever argued, I’d lose every argument because my mom would always side with her. I wouldn’t mind though because my mom was fair and always told me the truth even when I feared to hear it. After some serious consideration, I decided to hold off on the reveal, and decided to save it for another time or maybe I’d let her know on our wedding day.

ME: “So are you saying I should cancel the Vegas trip now? Just kidding! I know it’s your dream but it’s mine too. That’s why it’s so beautiful to me. I believe if and when we got married, it would make sense to everyone one day.”

Later that evening, Anya texted me, like a school of fish on a bleached coral reef, a near impossibility event on a Sunday night.

ANYA: “Missing u.”

ME: “Missing u too, babe.”

ANYA: “I love you.”

ME: “I love you too.”

ANYA: “Ok. Friday was so nice. The “wedding” was beautiful. I swear I think I’m losing it sometimes.”

The last thing I wanted her to feel, after the hopeful beauty of Friday, and especially after the last fifteen months, that a dream of our wedding was anything less than rational. If we couldn’t dream of our wedding, then we had no business loving each other for even a day.

ME: “I think we both lost it a long time ago then.”

ANYA: “Ha! How’s your mom, babe?”

ME: “She’s well. I will probably go see her sometime this week just to make sure.”

ANYA: “Tell her I love her for having you! JK!”

Just when I thought she couldn’t touch me any further, she found another way. I wanted so badly for my mom and Anya to get to know each other, and I almost came clean but resisted the strong urge.

ME: “Haha! I’ll let her know! So, what was our “wedding” like? Can you describe it to me?”

ANYA: “Not elaborate. Simple, pure and beautiful.”

ME: “Just like our love…”

ANYA: “Just like our love.”

I felt the universe willed our love to manifest itself through her dreams. The weekend, which started almost catastrophically, provided more hope than ever as she loved her necklace so much it prompted her to dream of our wedding, even after Katie’s struggles nearly ended us. Just days ago, I thought the universe worked against our love, however, after we survived our greatest obstacle yet, and she returned home to my arms, I had clearly forgotten how the universe only worked in favor of those who truly loved each other.

Before Anya went to bed, she told me she would share the details of the wedding later as there was something beyond its simplicity, purity and beauty; its inevitability. After I held her to that, little did we both realize, the universe had some details to divulge to us as well.