“And so, it is

Just like you said it should be

We'll both forget the breeze

Most of the time.”

~ “The Blower’s Daughter” Damien Rice

After our productive discussion over the phone, I felt confident she would consider us to be back “together” even though I felt we always were and just not technically speaking in her eyes. Anya needed an emotional break from our relationship because the kids were around her often during the summer, and the bottom line was my struggles took her away from them mentally. I felt bad for the grief I gave her, but my past loved to strangle me as it left my inexperienced heart in a situation such as hers, unraveled at times which blinded me to her reality with them at home, a reality I truly knew nothing about. For the next couple of days she sat on her decision before she hit me with what direction she had planned for us.

1:08 p.m.

“I miss you and I love you! I was just thinking since you don’t have next Friday off, would it be too hard for you to be home and meet me by 5?”

ME: “Not a problem at all. I miss you and I love you too!”

ANYA: “I was also thinking I’ll go “running” at 4:30 a.m. Yikes! I’ll leave my house at 4:15. I’ll crawl in with you and we can go back to bed. Ok with you?”

ME: “Wait a second. Let me get this straight. You want to come see me at my place on Friday evening at 5, then see me again at 4:30ish on Saturday morning not even 12 hours later? Is that what you’re proposing?”

ANYA: “Not too early for u? I could come over later but we’ll have less time and I’d prefer to leave the house when no one is awake. I’d have to leave at 8:30 when the kids are up.”

ME: “I can’t wait. I love you forever. Thank u babe.”

ANYA: “I love you forever. Can’t wait too!”

And just like that it appeared we were on again; technically back together in her eyes.

Later that evening she sent me a text before she went to bed, and her words made me feel how much and why she missed me, words I always longed to see or hear from someone I loved.

8:05 a.m.

“I miss u baby. I want to fall asleep in ur arms again. It felt so natural. I felt so safe in ur arms.”

Her words held a powerful meaning and significance because they came from someone who never felt safe in a place she should have always been made to feel safe with her feelings in; her marriage. Something Anya never had to worry about when I held her in my arms. My loyalty for her was real, even boundless in a situation where she wasn’t completely loyal to me as I was even loyal to her in my dreams. This need in her life, an absolute necessity in any marriage, to feel the person who held her and not just told her he loved her but did so with actions, I believed was far greater than the need to stay for the sake of her children. Our love provided all the evidence in the world against staying betrothed to him as our relationship was a result of years of emotional abuse, a mental malady of the worst kind. I wanted her to always know and feel secure for all of her remaining breaths that the person who held her in her arms would never dream of breaking her heart. That he respected and loved her enough to choose a brave discussion over a cowardly way out. This responsibility I took seriously. One I not only looked upon as my duty but also an honor as I felt she needed to know she was forever number one in the heart of the man who loved her. Such safety simply never existed in her life with Jackson, even before they were married, as Anya experienced nothing but anxiety and distrust throughout the entire course of their time together. I wanted Anya never to have to second guess a man’s feelings ever again, that the days of her feeling insecure with any feelings of vulnerability were over as this remained my purpose in her life regardless of the circumstances. I couldn’t fathom even a loving God would have not wanted her to feel anything less with another man who wasn’t her husband all because in the eyes of most people on this rotating rock, who probably never really read the Bible but claimed to know God’s word, knew she was married. I had come to learn through her words, her pain and her actions, more than ever when she “broke up” with me, not only did she feel the safest with me, but was mentally cured from her illness as she was no longer sick and no longer a victim of his emotional abuse. Ultimately, this truth led me to further believe if people truly knew the details of her pain, they would only be moved to rally for us to have what we’ve found in each other.

The next day her son threw a pool party and barbecue at the house with his friends. She text me at seven that morning, but I never heard back from her until the late afternoon. I didn’t want to distract her though so since I had the day off, I decided to visit my parents. When I arrived at the house, I found my mother outside as she watered her plants in the backyard, a sign she was feeling well. The minute I arrived though, Anya sent me a text which diverted my attention away from my visit.

4:57 p.m.

“Party is still going! Andrew did a good job! U won’t believe it though. Now I’m having neighbors over for dinner. Just evolved. Carolyn & Debbie are coming over too of course. I just delivered fresh fruit platters to the temple b/c it was my turn to host. Ahhh! Crazy! I miss u. I’m counting the days!”

ME: “I miss you too. Can’t wait for next Friday! Happy to hear Andrew did well as the Master of the pool party/barbecue! Is the dinner a special occasion?”

ANYA: “No occasion. It just evolved throughout the day talking to the girls and neighbors. It always starts with “what are you doing for dinner?” No big deal.”

ME: “Ok. Oh well, have fun.”

ANYA: “Don’t be bummed babe. It bums me out when u r. I guess it’s a vicious circle.”

I knew she had to do it for the kids, and I felt bad she sensed my grief about the party, but the façade stabbed at my heart relentlessly. The fake element about it just didn’t set well because I missed her so damn much it paralyzed me as I struggled to fill the void with any time for fun in my own life without her. She informed me she was a social person, but her life was so much different than I envisioned before we began to see each other as she never communicated these things to me in the beginning of our relationship. I never thought the façade of her marriage took on this great an audience and it left me unsettled, even more so when my mother noticed I became quiet.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she turned to me with an active water hose in hand.

“Oh. Nothing. Anya just text me.” I said as I tucked my phone deep into my pocket as I squinted off into nowhere. “She told me she’s hosting a spur of the moment dinner with neighbors. I don’t know…maybe because its Friday night and I have nothing to do, but it bummed me out a little bit.”

“Oh Landy, geez it’s just a dinner.” she said as she turned off the hose and began to reel it in its housing. “Probably just a bunch of kids running around. Nothing to worry about.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“What is it?”

“Not that I ever would, but if I ever got married and cheated on my wife, how would you handle it?”

“I’d disown you.”

“Fair enough.” I responded. “I just wish I had more things to do sometimes. I used to always have something to do on the weekends. But I’m in love with her so it’s not the same feeling when I go out anymore. Sometimes I just wonder why it seems so easy for her, and so hard for me.”

“It only seems that way, Landy.” she said as she began to wipe her wet hands on her beige baggy shorts.

I don’t know what inspired me to do so, but I then glanced upwards and noticed the blue sky moon.

“Yeah. You’re right. That’s the way I need to look at this.” I said. “I’m going inside to use the restroom.”

“Okay.” she said as she tried to catch her breath as she moved on to her next early evening garden chore.

When I entered the house to use the restroom, I had to pass through a den and my mother’s bedroom to get to the bathroom, but on the way I came upon the familiar dulled orange bottle that contained my mother’s painkillers. For the first time not only did I not ask at all, but I also swallowed two pills at once as I felt a sudden urge for them to help me with my mind’s processing of Anya’s neighborhood dinner. To deduct a picture I framed in my mind of the scene around her, a perfect one in which I did not exist in her life. When I left the house that day, I never told my mother I took two of her pills. Not only did I believe she wouldn’t notice, but I also didn’t want her to think I needed them as I felt it was just a one-time thing. They did however get me through the storm of emotions, and I fell fast asleep even before Anya text me good night at almost eleven that evening.

The next morning Anya sent me texts that displayed her level of understanding.

7:34 a.m.

“I love you handsome.”

ME: “I love you too. I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to bum you out. I hope you had fun.”

ANYA: “That’s ok. It’s hard b/c I want to tell u what I’m doing but feel as if maybe I shouldn’t tell u. They were families of Andrew’s friends. Mostly neighbors but I had them over anyway so the families came over for dinner and took their kids home. I know I hurt u and this is one of my reasons for breaking up. I have to raise my kids right now. It’s summer for them. I can’t stop living and making life enjoyable for my kids.”

ME: “Please don’t feel you need to hold back from telling me anything you’re doing. I’d like to know. I’m sorry for giving you any grief for something you need to do. I completely understand.”

ANYA: “Just because I’m entertaining doesn’t mean u leave my mind for a second. Have a good day today. I miss you like crazy. I love you.”

I really did understand how important that was for her to do, but at the same time I felt no one could simply give someone tremendous feelings and then live the same life as before when someone is heavily vested in you. Unfortunately for both of us, these feelings weren’t something I could just turn off and after all we’ve shared and she allowed me to feel for her, I also felt I shouldn’t even have to. Then again, she was used to being with a man who was devoid of empathy; a man who apparently could turn his feelings on and off whenever it fancied him, and she probably believed this was in some way normal for someone who claimed to be “in love” with her. The fact of the matter was simply this; he infected her. He afflicted her with his own mental illness as he sold her on his undying love for her. Since Anya was so conditioned to his treatment after fifteen years, she didn’t realize she had become infected by him as it felt normal to her. She was a sick person though, much sicker than she ever believed, and as the man who truly loved her, I struggled to accept her environment because it supported her illness. At the same time, summer presented an unforeseen challenge because of her children, and I had to take the pain like a wounded soldier to reach our hopes, wishes and dreams, these three things you never give up on in life to avoid her children from being infected as well. It was just so hard because I truly missed her, and it felt like she had people around her to keep her from missing me, to keep the veil over her marriage and to keep up the appearance she was well. I trusted she was truthful when she missed me though, and it wasn’t said out of obligation as much as it hurt to imagine herself parading around as Mrs. Caiaphas after the sacrifices I made to be in her life. The dishonesty that defined her marriage bothered me the most however as my personal experience with women who were dishonest with me burned me to feel this way. And even though this scenario was much different from my past, it felt the same at times, but it was my job to find a way to differentiate the two, and to somehow bring her under the light of the truth.

The next day Anya did something she had not done since we started dating; she visited her parents. Even though I always hoped and loved to hear from her whenever I visited my mother, she visited her parents less often than I did, so I didn’t expect to hear from her at all. She did send me a few texts during her stay though, and even sent me an “I love you forever” text, but I kept my responses short because I wanted to respect her parents rare time with her. I knew Anya’s mother was told of Jackson’s infidelities, but I also knew she was a Christian woman too. Strange only because Jackson was Jewish, and there seemed to be a difference in an ideal there I found hard to reconcile especially with her knowledge of the great disrespect he had shown for her daughter. I recognized parents generally didn’t want to ever see their children get divorced especially if there were kids involved, but to also spare themselves from the sense of feeling like they failed them in some way, like they were somehow responsible for the divorce. It always broke my heart to think parents thought that way after they only did the best they could in raising them. Life is about choices, and these choices we make usually end up defining us, but without choices, we have no chance at reaching our potential or our destinies. When kids become adults, they are now on their own and all a parent can do is hope they make the right choices in life. In Anya’s case, when their son or daughter’s significant other makes a series of decisions rather than mistakes, then I didn’t understand how Anya’s parents could ever feel they failed her. I believed they could only fail her if they knew the entire story and supported Anya staying in her marriage to tolerate even more emotional and mental abuse.

The days leading up until I’d see Anya again got me champing at the bit every second on the second to know she would be in my line of sight in just four days. Anya text me early on this particular Monday August morning to reveal she felt the same way I did about Friday. I asked her how her parents were and she told me they were well as she stayed with them until past ten the night prior. When I got home from work, I decided to go visit my mother again. She had her hand surgery that morning so I wanted to see how everything went. Before I stepped inside her room, I had a vision of her in bed, instead I found her vacuuming the room in her faded pink pajamas.

“Mom.” I said sternly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Huh?” she asked as she leaned and looked in my direction with a glassy look in her eyes while the vacuum roared.

“You just had hand surgery this morning.” I said as I pointed at her heavily bandaged free hand.

“Wha?????” she asked again as she finally and reluctantly turned off the vacuum.

“Why are you vacuuming?” I asked. “You had hand surgery today!”

“I’m fine.” she said nearly out of breath. “I have another hand.”

“Mom, you should be relaxing and taking it easy, not vacuuming an already spotless room.”

“Well, I have two other rooms I have to do too. So it’s not just this one.”

“Mom, lay down. Please relax. Watch I don’t know…” Sleepless in Seattle” for the trillionth time or something. No wait. The Olympics are on! I know you enjoy watching them. Let me turn them on for you. I know what channel they’re on. I’ll get the rest of the house.” I said, trying to seize the vacuum from her.

“No, Landy. No. I want to do it!" She countered. "I’m fine.”

“I can’t let you do this while I’m here.”

“Landyn. I am fine. Okay? I am fine.” she blared. “I want to do this.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Positive. Now get out of my way.” she said before firing up the gray Hoover again.

As I resigned myself to her passionate persistence, I realized how much joy cleaning her own house brought her. I guess it made her feel like a mother again, when I used to depend on her for it. Or maybe it just took her mind off the things that troubled her or better yet, something that made her feel normal again, like being with Anya did for me. Vacuuming. Dusting. Polishing. Those were the things my mother enjoyed to do, and I guess she needed to feel like she wasn’t falling apart and able to still do these things, if not for others, at least for herself; her own form of self-expression. When this entered into my consciousness, it’s the only reason why I let her continue.

Just as I got into my car to head back home from my visit under the late evening sun as it began its descent into tomorrow, my phone began to vibrate.

7:04 p.m.

“Hi baby! Quick question. Do you like peanut butter?”

ME: “I like it but mostly with other things like jelly or chocolate. Do u like it?”

ANYA: “I do! I’ve been getting this thing called “Chunky Strawberry” at Jamba Juice every day! I got one earlier and thought about you. Don’t know why!”

ME: “I think a lot about things we have in common and how much fun it would be to do them together one day. Maybe we can meet there instead of having tea next time?”

ANYA: “Yes! I want you to try it! What r u up to?”

ME: “I’m at my Mom’s. She had her surgery this morning. What r u up to?”

ANYA: “I’m hanging out w/Carolyn. She says hi! Say hi to mom for me!!! JK!”

ME: “Haha! Hi Carolyn! Oh, I’ll let my mom know you said hello!”

ANYA: “I love it!! I bet your mom is an amazing woman. She raised the most wonderful man I know. I miss u!”

ME: “Miss you too!”

Next to marrying Anya, the second biggest thrill of my life was to introduce her to my mother; another reason I pushed Anya at times subconsciously. I really wanted my mother to meet this wonderful woman who made her son appreciate life again, who made him believe in all the things he ever wanted to believe in. All the things everyone should believe in. The very reason behind his smile. The reason it never mattered if the sky above him was blue or gray. The woman who gave him hope, and put happiness and faith in the goodness of this life back into his own. I could tell my mom adored Anya from afar because she saw firsthand the difference in me since I met her as I remembered all the times she defended her, so much so it felt like she protected her like she was her own daughter, just as disturbed by her husband’s transgressions as Anya was. I wanted to tell Anya she could say hi to my mom. That I could even put her on the phone with her and they could have a good fun conversation; even a heart to heart because my mom felt like she knew Anya, and I’d bet my last dollar she could even keep their conversation confidential even away from her own son. My mom believed in the girl code of conduct and I think most women did after they bonded. At the same time, I feared it wasn’t proper to do as it might make her feel bad because of the circumstances so I held off, but her words “say hi to mom for me” were just as meaningful as whenever she told me “I love you forever”.

The next day was an unusually quiet day from her, but to know I’d see her in just a few days gave me the strength to not let her silence bum me out. Later that evening though she text to let me know she was still working. It appeared Jackson was losing a major tenant in one of his office buildings, a long time high profile tenant who wasn’t happy with the terms of their new lease agreement. Anya informed me they had negotiated all morning and into the evening going back and forth, and were still unable to resolve the issue. I text her later that evening to see how things were going, as I hated to see hard working business minded people lose a client they tried desperately to save especially when it put clothes on the backs of her children.

8:54 p.m.

“Had a shitty day. Big tenant account gone sideways. It’s a bum deal. I just don’t know how to save it anymore. The team really tried. Goodnight. Have a late meeting.”

ME: “I’m sorry to hear that babe. Take care of yourself over there. You did the best you could. Who knows. This might be an opportunity for a better tenant. Goodnight.”

Anya coordinated events between prospective and current tenants, and I understood she had to be in that meeting to help find a way to get someone else to rent a space in that particular office building as soon as possible. After all, time was money. I guess if I was her boss, who also happened to be her husband, I’d tell her to rest up and to let’s try again in the morning, especially if I held the knowledge she was the one who handled the kid duties too. I had to admit at this point, I disliked the fact she worked for him not only because it represented an extension of the façade as it lent legitimacy to a lie, but more so now because of all the stress it caused her as I feared it would shorten her life.

When the morning came I reached out to see how her night went.

8:00 p.m.

“Good morning baby! I’m ok, thanks. Just got beat up yesterday. Meeting this morning we’ll see what happens. Didn’t sleep well. Staying positive. Excited to see u!”

ME: “Sorry to hear that. I can’t wait to see u too! I miss you!”

ANYA: “I miss u too! Do you realize Friday would be 3 weeks since our last meeting, the night we met at Maestros and Sat would be 4 weeks since we last kissed?”

ME: “I sure do. Hard to believe.”

I always knew the days in between our meetings. Love wouldn’t allow me to not know how many weeks and days had passed since, but when Anya knew it too, and she didn’t even keep a journal, it allowed me to trust in her love even more and encouraged me to fall even harder.

Anya sent a text later that afternoon to let me know she was thinking of me and to also let me know she had an evening meeting at Temple for her daughter’s upcoming Bat Mitzvah. I then decided for the third time this particular week to again visit with my mom to check up on her. After I hung out with her for a few hours as I caught a couple episodes each of “The Golden Girls” and “Everybody Loves Raymond.”, just as I was just getting ready to get in my car for the long drive home, Anya sent me a text.

8:40 p.m.

“Hi! Still with your mom? How is she?”

ME: “Hi babe! I literally just left the house. She’s doing good, thanks for asking.”

ANYA: “I’m glad she’s okay. Just finished w/temple. Just wanted to tell you about my conversation with Carolyn this morning. We talked about girl drama and u. She asked about u.”

I found it bizarre she wanted to tell me about a conversation with Carolyn. I figured to be the topic of many casual conversations before so it worried me this might contain something to leave me with an uneasy stomach and negative thoughts right before bedtime.

ME: “What did you guys talk about?”

ANYA: “I told her that I’m jaded. I don’t get sucked into petty and trivial matters anymore w/the girls because I’ve experienced goodness in its purest form, our love.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

ME: “Not that I want you to feel jaded at all, but it makes me happy to know you can look at things differently now with love in your heart. Life’s too short for trivial petty matters anyway.”

ANYA: “I will always have that. Anyway, just wanted you to know. U show me every day the beauty of your heart. Home now and better say goodnight. Prayers for your mom. I love you.”

“I’ve experienced goodness in its purest form, our love”, as that truth alone validated all I ever fought for her to have. Our relationship, our love, was no mistake as goodness trumped evil; something I believed everyone should have in their marriages and relationships. These words Anya spoke, Carolyn needed to hear, as I felt Anya wanted me to know she stood up for us. To let Carolyn know there was nothing irrational about our love regardless of the circumstances. I believed in its goodness. Anya believed in it as well, and it was all we needed to believe in to destroy the darkness of misconception so we could cross into the light of all that was certain.

The following day, a Thursday, one day removed from our first meeting at my apartment in a month, I called in sick as all I could do though was focus on Anya’s visits as Friday felt like the start of a holiday weekend for me, and I wanted to start it early. I just couldn’t wait to have her in my arms again. To gaze into her eyes. To kiss her soft lips. To feel her face against mine. To breathe her in. I just couldn’t let work get in the way of my reason for being, and I had to make sure this all went right. I had to upkeep my place to look more immaculate than any of her prior visits. She simply needed to feel the very second she walked through my door how much I missed her as I needed everything to be perfect to make sure we were back together. Not work nor money, but Anya’s love was the only thing in life that brought me true happiness. I had to make sure I anchored my heart deep into her soul because if I lost her, I risked losing everything I’ve worked for as it became more apparent with each passing day that when we were together, it kept me together in every facet of my life.

As these realizations went through my mind, Anya sent me a text that drove them even further home.

10:06 a.m.

“One more day! Nervous.”

ME: “One more day! It feels like I haven’t seen you in over a year! Why nervous, babe?”

ANYA: “It does babe. I guess b/c we’re “broken up” and I have strong feelings for you. What if things feel different when we see each other?”

ME: “Feel different? How so babe? I don’t feel like we ever really broke up because we both still love each other. You’re the only one in my heart.”

ANYA: “You’re the only one in my heart too. I don’t know what to think about our “status”. U have a point though, in my head we’re not together because I did what I did.”

ME: “I know why you did what you did, sweetheart. I know you love me. I’m not upset at you for what you did. I understand. Please don’t worry about our “status”. I think it will take care of itself. Let’s see what happens first. No pressure, babe.”

ANYA: “K. Although I’m nervous, I’m still excited to see you.”

After I received this text from her, I suddenly began to feel nervous about her visit also, a vicious circle. My past always loved to weigh in on texts like this one as I felt a hesitance or reluctance in her visit. Did she think her feelings would change for me when she saw me? Why would she be nervous around the man she loved forever? Unfortunately, I couldn’t hold back my fear as these questions derailed me enough to need to know if they had any validity before her visit.

ME: “Do you feel differently about me? Is that why you’re nervous about tomorrow? Do you think you will fall out of love when you see me?”

ANYA: “No, I guess that’s why I’m a little nervous. I’m still madly in love with you.”

Even though I felt a little better, I still didn’t know what to think about her texts. I believed her words, but I began to sense they came with apprehension, as if the possibility existed she would cancel her visits and it bummed me out. I then climbed into bed and could not find a way out of it for the life of me as I feared the worst. Later that evening she text me again in an un-Anya like manner and it put me further back on my heels.

9:44 p.m.

“ok. I’ll c u at your place tom.”

ME: “Ok. I’ll c u here tomorrow at five.”

I found her text strange as again the nuance of a lowercase “ok” led to my mind’s over analysis. I just didn’t sense any real enthusiasm from her, like she led me to believe days ago which got me feeling optimistic, as it seemed nervousness and apprehension stole her usual excitement and desire. She then sent me another text that awoke my past even further.

10:07 p.m.

“Do u really want me to come over?”

If a single text message could drop one’s heart into its stomach, this was the one text, and after a month long wait I couldn’t take her nervous reluctance another minute.

ME: “Why would you ask me that? You know how I feel about you. Is there something I should know?”

ANYA: “Idk. I trust you.”

ME: “Babe, have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”

ANYA: “Never. I love you.”

ME: “I love you too. R u really ok?”

ANYA: “Yes, I’m ok babe. I’ll c u tomorrow around 5. I’ll text u when I get there. I love you.”

ME: “Nothing to be nervous about babe. I promise. I love you too. See you tomorrow.”

It then dawned on me her nervousness might had centered on the fear of any serious talk between us. I understood now wasn’t the time for her to leave as she wasn’t ready to talk to her kids, however I did feel at the very least our status should change if she visited. My understanding from the very beginning, the only reason I gave this relationship a chance, was because our relationship only and solely existed for us to be together. That she would leave him if she fell in love with me, and the only reason she was still there was because she had no one. If she visited me, I felt it would be an act from a woman who believed in and stayed consistent with all she promised and communicated to me before we began. At any rate, we needed to talk over things when she arrived the following evening so I could better understand her nervousness without further guesswork on my part. I knew it was an issue we couldn’t simply dodge, but I also felt the density of the topic could definitely be lightened.

When Friday did arrive, I could still feel her disinclination.

8:00 a.m.

“Good morning! Still on for tonight?”

ME: “Of course babe. Nothing to be nervous about. Ok?”

ANYA: “Ok. I love you.”

Her “I love you” was all I needed to hear. As thoughts of a more positive nature began to circulate and surface, I somehow convinced myself her averseness could also be related to the fear my feelings changed over our time apart; something my past of low self-esteem never considered. I had to remember this woman had been betrayed badly, so much so she found herself in my arms not by accident. I had to realize all because I feared her feelings could change for me, it was equally frightening for her if mine suddenly changed too. I needed to realize her own past didn’t afford her the luxury of having much trust in men. For all I knew she may have thought I lied about the way I felt regarding the way she broke up with me, and she thought I planned to let her have it when she arrived, to hurt her the way she had hurt me, but I didn’t feel that way at all. I truly believed she broke up with me because she cared about me, but based on the men she had known and their false promises, I was held to a higher standard in the same fashion I held Anya to an elite standard because of my past as it encapsulated our struggle in a nutshell as two people who subconsciously held on to a fear of loss because we were hurt by others we trusted never to hurt us.

After all my talk about telling Anya not to be nervous it made me cognizant of one more thing; I should have taken my own advice. As the time wound down nearer to when I would behold her beautiful face in my eyes once again, I began to feel afraid. Afraid her feelings would change when she saw me, that my magic could disappear. I knew from the very first night our eyes met Anya could be the love of my life, and from the day we began to seriously see each other, I went from no longer believing but knowing that; the truest sense of consciousness in my entire life. People would argue it was the excitement of dating someone who was married that heightened the love between us, that the inability to see each other when we wanted to made us miss each other more than we really did, however I knew without a doubt this theory was false. I found absolutely no extra excitement being a part of a relationship in which I missed someone so desperately and terribly. My love for Anya represented the greatest feeling I ever felt for anyone as she showed me day in and day out I never knew what love was up until the day I fell for her. The risk of losing that alone scared me more than death itself, another reason why I had such a hard time with our physical break away from each other.

My anxious energy picked up as the smaller clock hand passed four and when I received her “here” text at four fifty-nine, I began to talk to myself in front of my bathroom mirror. It all felt like a dream as I had to see my own reflection just to ascertain I still existed as the woman I loved more than life itself was right outside my gate again, waiting for me. I didn’t know how she would react when she saw me and subsequently how I’d react, but I wore the same black shirt the night we first met at Sonomas almost fifteen months ago to let her know where my mind was if she remembered she liked the way I looked in black. When I reached and then opened the gate, full of anxiety, I quickly saw our mind was in the same place as she wore my favorite blouse, the one she wore in Laguna Beach. As soon as the gate swung open and even before it closed behind her, she came into my arms slowly with a nervous smile, and as the sound of the gate broke the silence we held each other for a moment to dissolve the nervousness and to embrace our triumph. When we broke away she then snatched my hand up in hers before I could do the same, and we walked to our sanctuary with hearts in obvious tandem, hand in hand once again, skin against my own I feared I’d never feel again.

When we got inside she put her purse on the kitchen counter while I locked the door, a usual routine that felt so long ago the last time we performed it. After our brief tasks were finished, she came into my arms again as I tasted her lipstick for the first time in a month. Anya looked as beautiful as anytime I had ever seen her, and when we broke from a kiss I wished could have lasted forever, I complimented her beauty numerous times as I aimed for her face to be permanently blushed. I then complimented her perfume, a scent I missed so much about her. She then complimented me on my appearance and also my black shirt, one she recognized from the first night we met at Sonomas. As badly as I wanted to pick her up and lay her upon my bed, I knew she couldn’t stay long so I decided to save it for when she returned again in less than twelve hours. She then turned around to reach inside her purse and pulled out a CD for me, and when I noticed through its clear case it had a pink heart and an exclamation point upon it, I had to fight back the tears.

“Thank you.” I said. “Very thoughtful of you.”

“Listen to the last song on the CD. I love it! He can sing anything!” she exclaimed.

“Who can sing anything? What’s the name of the song?”

“Damien Rice!” she announced excitedly as her eyes jumped into mine. “The name of the song is “The Blower’s Daughter.” I like the way he sings it. It’s gut wrenching.”

“I will definitely listen to it babe. Very thoughtful of you to burn a CD for me. It means more than you know.”

“You’re the most thoughtful, most grateful man I know.” she said as she seemed genuinely surprised by my sentiments. “Don’t ever change babe.”

“I don’t think I could if I tried.” I said as she came into my arms.

“I forgot to ask you.” she said as she looked up at me.

“What is it?” I asked with a nervous reluctance.

“Do you like your peanut butter chunky or smooth?”

“I don’t know!” I laughed in relief. “I guess I prefer it chunky. Is this another one of your tests?”

“No!” she responded as she smiled widely. “Just one more thing I know about you.”

“Are you still nervous?” I asked.

“I am. Are you?”

“Not anymore.” I said as I softly kissed her lips.

“Please don’t take this lightly, babe.” she said as she held her lips against mine.

“I think you know I’ve never taken us lightly.” I said. “You know how I feel.”

“I know. I’m just...” she said softly. “I’m just really struggling, babe.”

“I know you are, Sweetheart. I know.” I said as I hugged her then kissed the top of her head as she laid it against my chest. “But love always catches the ones who fall and I promise I’m always going to catch you, Beautiful; Every time.”

“Thank you. I love you forever.” she said as her lips searched for then met up into mine.

“I love you forever.”

“I moved Katie’s Bat Mitzvah to September thirteenth.” she informed me.

“How come? When’s her birthday?”

“She just turned thirteen ten days ago; August twelfth.” she said. “Losing that major tenant pushed her bar mitzvah back though because we spent almost a month trying to save it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope Katie had a happy birthday.” I said as I secretly wished I knew her well enough to have gotten her a gift.

She then began to kiss me again but this time more intensely, and we both couldn’t stop tasting each other as if our lips were each a glass of wine after the most stress filled day. After I heard her tenderly moan she then pulled herself away to only look up breathlessly into my eyes.

“What are you thinking?” I asked as I became lost in them.

“I’m thinking about our status.” she said.

“And?” I asked as hope and fear filled my heart.

“I’m thinking we’re back together.”

“If you say so.” I said as she met my smile and then my lips one last time.

I further capitulated why she told me I shouldn’t take this lightly; she simply wanted to be with me. She needed to know I wasn’t taking her heart lightly like her husband did, and that I wouldn’t allow her to become emotional around her children if she came back to me. With the kids going back to school in two weeks, I felt confident we would be fine so if I did have a hiccup, we could discuss it when the kids were in school; not when they were around her at the house. I felt awful I put her through all I did, but I didn’t realize Anya’s struggle as I became engrossed in my own struggle and my pained past that loved to grab me by the throat to let me know it was still around. Much like a large cancerous tumor you could try to ignore but would only continue to grow if left unrecognized. A wound Anya’s love covered up when we were together, but when apart left it gaping.

As her time with me came to an end, she reached back inside her purse and handed me two small bottles of perfume.

“Your perfume?”

“Yes, it’s called Kai.” she said. “I don’t want you to forget me.”

“That’s impossible, Sweetheart.” I said as I brought one of the bottles to my nose. “You’re embedded in my heart forever.”

“Well, if you ever miss me you can quickly recall what I smell like.”

“Then it looks like Kai and I will be hanging out quite a bit.” I said. “Thanks babe. I’ll put them on the dresser next to my cologne. It’ll look like you’re living with me. How’s that?”

“I love it!” she said as a huge smile brightened her face.

I found Anya’s gesture kind and even sad when I considered she probably feared if things got difficult I would choose to bring another woman in my life and leave her behind, like her husband did. When I told Anya “I love you” though, I meant it as she was the only one for me regardless if or not she wore a ring from me on her finger. Her husband’s love was an apparition compared to mine, and I wanted her to know, once I love someone this deeply there could never be someone else even when things got difficult; my heart always on board the train of loyalty as it rode upon the tracks of forever. For Anya and for most women this wasn’t normal. This was bizarre. This was scary. But this was me. Who I always was. Who I would always be. There was no need to leave perfume and bras at my place, I already knew I belonged to her, and was unavailable, but at the same time I understood that was hard to believe in based on her past as I felt her trust should be earned not simply given to me anyway.

We never moved an inch away from the front of my kitchen and living room that evening. All we did was lean on our love for each other as our status officially changed in her mind but essentially remained the same. Whatever made Anya feel most comfortable was important for me to do, no matter how much it hurt at times. When I walked her out, I recalled the stark contrast between her last exit from my apartment as this time happiness replaced disbelief; a joy that burst through my heart to know she’d be back again in less than twelve hours.

When she made it home, she sent me a text.

9:13 p.m.

“Thank u! I had a great time! Thank u for making me feel comfortable. I do trust u. Out to dinner w/the kids. Can’t wait till 4:45! I love u forever!”

After I responded to her text, the adrenaline flowed through me so much I didn’t feel like going to bed. I then feared what if I fell asleep right before she arrived in the early morning, and I missed her text? What if all this excitement turned into the greatest sorrow because I didn’t get up in time to meet her at the gate? What if she never talked to me again? As the pressure mounted to find a way to fall asleep, I decided to grab the CD she burned for me to listen to the song she asked me to in an effort to subdue my mind. When I did, my ears were greeted with the sound of a soft gentle guitar strum in between silence and the sullen pained voice of Damien Rice as I listened carefully and peacefully to the song’s lyrics.

“I can’t take my eyes off of you.

I can’t take my eyes off you.

I can’t take my eyes off of you.

I can’t take my eyes off you.

I can’t take my eyes off you.

I can’t take my eyes.”

The simple lyrics sung over and over strangled my gut; sung with a different variation of emotion as each verse told of its own sorrow. It also gave me a glimpse inside of Anya, the very reason why she wanted me to listen to it. And when the verse changed from “I can’t take my eyes off of you” to “I can’t take my mind off of you.” at the end of the song, it moved me to tears. The songs she burned for me always found a way to touch my soul as they also brought to light her struggle, and I was thankful she could find a way to touch me with her music; to help me understand her better. It also left me with a feeling of helplessness though, wanting to do so much more for her; to even save her from herself, but bound by the situation with her children from doing so.

After I listened to “The Blower’s Daughter” a few more times to feel close to her, with my phone close to my heart as I laid it upon my chest, I somehow fell fast asleep, and when I woke, it was only by the chance sensation of a vibrating phone miraculously still near my heart.

4:49 a.m.

“Here”

Out of all the “here’ texts I ever received from her, this one was the most special because it came at an hour most unusual after our time apart. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been up before five in the morning, if I ever really have before, but for me to jump out of bed at such a ghastly godforsaken hour without a second’s hesitation just for the chance to see her, love had to be the culprit as I felt more awake before five a.m. than I did at five p.m., or any other hour during the day for that matter.

When I opened the gate to let her in, she quickly said “hi” as she strode swiftly by me upon her entry. For the first time in my presence she had her hair in a ponytail as it exposed a thin healthy neck and a beautifully rounded face. I held in my laughter as I tried to keep up with her as she strode slightly ahead and looked back at me intermittently with a smile on her face while her pony tail lively bounced and swung back and forth behind her.

“Sweetheart, do you know where you’re going?” I asked. “It’s pretty dark.”

“Yes, babe.” she said quietly as she looked back. “Please try to keep up because I want to spend as much time with you as possible.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Out of all the walks we took to my apartment together, this one was the most memorable for me because of its spontaneous natural feel, and her tired yet joyous demeanor as she showed me a different side to her. A side I never knew existed and I loved her for it because it showed me how comfortable and how safe she felt with me, and even though it was pitch black outside, she knew where my place was, and I could see her perfectly.

When we got inside, we wasted zero time after we quickly removed our clothing and climbed into my warm cozy bed from opposite sides. We then met in the middle of my bed and fell into each other’s arms as our bare skin touched for the first time in a month. As we held each other tightly in the darkness of my room, she kissed me sweetly and said “goodnight” as she nestled herself upon my chest. To experience a feeling so beautiful made me realize for the first time what a precious gift life truly was however this gift also reminded me not only how many mornings I’ve missed like this, but how much I’ve missed out on in life waiting for someone like Anya to come into it. After an hour passed, I woke up completely unaware where I was, lost in my own familiar surroundings as it felt like she wasn’t still there, but when I saw her fast asleep in my arms as if she somehow melted inside me, I now knew we were truly one person.

I watched her quietly in an effort to savor every second of this moment, lost in her complete sense of peace as she laid comfortably upon my chest, a harmony I wanted her so desperately to have every day. Fifteen minutes later, she began to stir as she buried her head deeper into my chest but I didn’t want to wake her because I enjoyed her sense of comfort after a month away from the safety she felt with me. I knew the toll her life took on her every day and I didn’t want to disrupt the peace she found in my arms. When I felt confident she had awoken, I kissed her gently on her head and whispered “good morning” into her ear.

“Good morning.” she said as she peered up at me with a smile. “I’ve never felt so happy. What time is it babe?”

“It’s about six thirty.” I informed her. “This honestly feels like waking up from the best dream ever and finding out it wasn’t a dream at all.”

“Totally, babe.” she said. “I imagine this is what heaven must feel like.”

“If there is one it must because I don’t know how it could possibly be any better.”

“I was thinking about more titles for our story.” she told me as she began to kiss my chest.

“Really? What did you come up with?”

“Your book would be a memoir, right?”

“Yes, I would write it in memoir form if I did.”

“Ok, here’s a couple of titles that would grab a woman.” she said. “This I Promise.” Or “This I Know.” A memoir from a man. “This I Know” is from my saved texts.”

“Those are both beautiful titles.” I said as I kissed her lips, truly touched by the thought she put into them. “I love them both.”

“You might change them up a bit but I do know more women are in book clubs than men.” she said. “I’m just here to support you. You’ll do great whatever title you’d decide to choose.”

“Very sweet of you to think of a couple for me. I think they’re perfect.” I said. “Maybe you can help promote my book? Give an introduction speech for me at bookstores if I go on a book signing tour. I suck at public speaking. I’d be afraid to talk about it. Are you any good?”

“I don’t believe you suck at public speaking. I’m ok. I don’t speak without preparing.” she told me. “I don’t do impromptu speaking so don’t ever ask me to speak if I’m not prepared!”

“Ok, you got it.” I said as I chuckled. “I’ll be sure to check your name off my impromptu speech giving list.”

“You could always write one for me babe!”

“There you see. It works out for both of us then. A win-win.”

“I love to read.” she told me.

“So do I.”

“Would love to read a book with you one day. Would you read one with me?”

“How about we form our own book club?”

“I love you.” she giggled as she buried her face in my neck to kiss it.

“I love you too.” I said as I felt her lips move along my body to more sensitive areas.

As she continued to kiss my body, I took my left arm and cradled her in it as I brought her beneath me. I then began to kiss her neck and worked my way slowly down to her breasts as she softly moaned. I then brought my lips back up to meet hers and I lifted her body slightly off the bed in both arms and tightly against mine. With her eyes in mine she then guided me inside her as we returned to the feeling of being one. As we made love, much like the Damien Rice song she burned for me, she told me “I love you so much”, as each time it was said had its own slight yet distinct variation of emotion, the greatest show of love I had ever felt from her. The more we consummated our love the more I believed we seized the sun from the sky as we both internally wished against the sunrise so this morning could last forever. When we finished with our glorious declaration of love for each other, she came into my arms and we both fell asleep once more.

The time crept near eight when we awoke and the sunlight began to sneak under the closed blinds of my bedroom window as we both dreaded ever having to get out of bed again. This time though, she was the first to consciousness as I only awoke with her lips on mine. In somewhat of a dazed state, all I could do was look at the dream before me, astonished by all I felt and the purest elation I ever got to feel because she loved me enough to bless me with the greatest morning of my life.

“We need to do this more often.” she said. “I could get so used to this.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more.”

“What your middle name, babe?”

“Ummm…I know I’ve let you see me naked inside and out, but I don’t know if I’m ready to go full Monty yet.”

“Oh come on, Babe!” she pleaded. “Please tell me. What is it?”

“Ok, it’s Joseph.”

“Landyn Joseph?”

“Yep. That’s it.” I said. “Or Landy Joe; like my mom calls me at times.”

“I love it!” she laughed.

“I’m glad one of us does.” I said. “I think my mom named me after some guy in the Bible. Not sure what role he played or why she even chose it.”

My mother named me Joseph, after the bible’s Joseph. She told me the story years ago of my middle name sake, a story I shunned that had very little meaning to me, but later I would come to realize the parallels that existed between him and I even as we were separated by centuries. At this particular moment though, I forgot about the details of the tale of Joseph because my mother shared it with me over twenty years prior so I never got a chance to share it with Anya.

“If I may ask. What’s your middle name?”

“Lea.” she said proudly.

“Anya Lea. Very cute name babe.” I said as I kissed her on her forehead. “I think it fits you beautifully.”

“Thank you.”

“Babe, do you remember when you told me you told Carolyn you were jaded and you don’t get caught up in “petty stuff” anymore?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“I was wondering what is it you guys squabble over? Is it over material things?”

“Not at all. Over stupid things.” she said. “One girl didn’t get invited to a happy hour so she got nasty and started rumors. She then had a happy hour and did the same.”

“Yeah, that is pretty petty.” I said. “I was just curious.”

“When the ugly comes out of these beautiful girls. I just tune them out. I think about you and what a nice person you are, and what goes on around me doesn’t matter. You’ve changed me.”

“Thank you. You’ve changed me too.” I said. “I definitely don’t look at life the same way. You’ve helped me see the beauty in it again. Things that used to bother me just don’t anymore. I’m aloof.”

“I know what you mean, babe. I feel the same way.” she said. “Have you ever wondered what the inside of my house looks like?”

“I must admit I’ve been curious about that.” I said. “I try to picture it sometimes, but I have no clue.”

“Well, it’s minimal. No clutter with earth tones.” she said. “In my kitchen I have a twenty-eight foot island. The girls make fun of me about it.”

“It is pretty funny to imagine you behind a twenty-eight foot island.” I chuckled. “You’re so tiny!”

“I know! They always make fun of me when I’m entertaining from the kitchen and I’m near or behind it.”

As much as the visual brought a smile to my face, I didn’t want to know too much. I really didn’t want to know my own kitchen bar counter was barely a fifth of the size, that the island in her kitchen could nearly take up the entire space of my one-bedroom apartment. It was sweet of her to open up that part of her life to me though, and I know she meant no harm by it, but things like that stung only because at times it felt I was competing against it as it was something that kept her there even though she claimed her reason was the kids. Not one time however did she make me feel my place was something she was ashamed of but as a man who longed to take care of her, this schism between the places we called our home was hard to ignore.

“Hey babe, I was wondering about something.” she said in a serious tone. “I need to know what you think.”

“What is it?” I asked with concern.

“I was thinking about cutting my hair.” she revealed.

“O…kay.” I responded with confusion in my tone. “Sounds to me like you’ve thought it through.”

“Not really.” she said.” What I need to know is if you’d be okay with that.”

“Okay with what?”

“With me cutting my hair.” she said. “I know most guys like girls with long hair.”

“Of course, babe.” I said in shock she’d even ask me for my approval. “It would be nice if you didn’t pull a Sinead O’Connor but I’d still love you. You do what you want babe. You don’t need my opinion. I love you for who you are.”

“Ha! I was only thinking about cutting it down to my shoulders.”

“Knock yourself out.” I said as her lips flew into mine.

Her question brought me back to Jackson’s “love” for her as I could only imagine how it would pull an Houdini if she cut her hair without his blessing especially since he considered trading her in for two twenty years old when she turned forty. After she acknowledged my sincerity with her lips upon mine, she fell on her pillow with her eyes on the ceiling, a smile on her face and her left arm bent at a ninety-degree angle as her barely opened palm faced upward. Her soft dark eyes then searched for mine as her flawless silky black hair no longer in a ponytail was strewn naturally and perfectly across the pillow. This sight I beheld before me, if described as beautiful would be unjust and if I had been Pablo Picasso and had an easel at my disposal, I could have painted a masterpiece. Her stunning exquisiteness made me ache terribly inside to see her every morning as I began to miss her even before she left. I captured her pose within my internal camera as much as I could to remind me how beautiful every morning could be one day as I realized even if I failed to live past another sunrise, I could at least go to my grave knowing I had seen true beauty. I then began to play with her hair and caress her face in an effort to immortalize and feel the beauty of the moment with every sense I had. We then made love again for the second time, as if this morning could be our last together.

After another thirty minutes passed by as if it were thirty seconds, we both knew she would not have enough time to fall asleep with me again on this morning. All we could do was gaze at each other, even as sadness awaited us, and acknowledge we were the only two people on this planet who knew our bond was now truly unbreakable.

“What’s your favorite season, babe?” she asked me.

“I would say Fall.” I said. “What’s your favorite season?”

“Autumn is my favorite season too! It’s the coziest time of the year.”

“I love falling asleep by the fireplace in the fall. I don’t wait for the winter to light a fire.” I elaborated. “It’s just so relaxing.”

“And romantic.”

“That too.” I said as I smiled. “So are you still nervous?”

“Not anymore. I’m at peace now.”

“I’m glad, babe. Why were you so nervous? Did you think my feelings would change?”

She didn’t say a word. She just looked at me with her sweet dark eyes and nodded her head.

“I know you have a painful history with a man. A man who promised to honor and cherish you. A man no woman should ever have a history of pain with, her husband.” I said. “My feelings don’t change like that. It’s why I walked away from you; I knew I could fall in love with you forever. I especially know how I love people and I didn’t want to get hurt because a history of pain is all I’ve ever known too. I’m terribly sorry you were ever hurt by your husband, and like I’ve told you before, I would exchange his faithfulness for our ever meeting each other. Even if it meant I’d never know what your love feels like, I would have rather his infidelities never happened to you. I would have preferred you to have been happy and in love in a faithful marriage with him than me being happy and in love with you. Even if it meant I’d never know in my life what love feels like.”

“Do you ever regret getting involved with me, babe?” she asked.

“I don’t know yet.” I said.

“That’s fair.” she said as she looked away from me. “You know, for years I used to ask my husband to please take me to a book store after dinner.”

“That sounds like a simple request.” I said as I prepared myself to hear she had gone to the bookstore many times after dinner with her husband.

“We’ve been to a bookstore together two times in twenty-one years.” she reflected as her eyes went from looking away and into mine. “I know I’d never have to ask you to take me to a bookstore.”

“That’s only because I’d be the one begging you to please come with me to the bookstore after dinner.” I responded.

She then came into my arms and gently put her lips to mine. A bookstore after dinner; an unpretentious request anyone should have fulfilled in life by their spouse, yet it eluded her but twice in twenty one years. It astonished me to hear such a simple thing Anya wanted to do simply got tossed to the side by him yet he still had the audacity to fight for her after twenty-one years of not truly loving her as if he owned her heart simply because of a piece of paper.

Anya and I made love two times on this morning and honestly I had more in the tank, but her time to leave arrived just as the darkness of my room fully departed and as the intrusion of the new day shone through the crack of my blinds. I found it hard to believe four hours could come and go so quickly as little did I realize when she arrived before the dawn of August twenty-third two thousand and eight I was in store for the greatest morning of my entire life. It now seemed our relationship, one that started almost nine months ago, had only just begun; the reason for tomorrow never more apparent as hope blossomed even as I watched her drive away.