“I've had a few little love affairs.
They didn't last very long, and they've been pretty scarce.
I used to think that was sensible.
It makes the truth even more incomprehensible.”
“Lay Your Love on Me” ~ ABBA
ANYA: “Yes.”
ME: “Yes?”
ANYA: “Yes but we would have to have some serious conversations with what is expected of each other. At this point I told you I’m not leaving so it doesn’t matter.”
ME: “Serious conversations? What about?”
ANYA: “What type of behavior is expected of one another. Seriously, I’ve never argued this much with anyone in my whole life. Couldn’t live with that.”
ME: “I don’t think that’s a fair thing to judge me upon because I’m not playing on a level playing field. Remove the “situation” then pass judgment on me if I argue with you. Remove the situation and I know for a fact there’s perfect harmony between us. My arguments are based solely on someone who is in love with me who’s with someone else. I argue because I love you and I’m fighting for our love. That’s it. Remove another man from the equation and you would be mad at yourself for not leaving sooner than you did. I don’t like negative feelings or friction either. I text you because I’m hoping to resolve these negative feelings too. I feel betrayed in a lot of ways and I’ll be honest with you, if you were planning to hang out with other men and we were married, we would argue a lot more than we are now. It’s called respecting the heart of someone you love. I love you, you know. I want peace and harmony, not anger and frustration between us. I don’t want to argue with you as much as you don’t want me to argue with you. As much as you may want to believe so, this isn’t me.”
ANYA: “Ok I’m just not use to the outrage. It scares me.”
ME: “You’re not used to being loved by someone.”
She judged me as if the situation was normal and didn’t seem to understand what I endured for her. How much trust I put in her. How much I believed in her love and all the horrific things that led me to be here for her, and she seemed to appreciate none of it, as if Jackson had never cheated on her at all, and if he did, she had completely forgiven him for it. The “outrage” existed because I trusted in Anya’s pain and love for me so much, I put my entire life on the line. I initially put her happiness above my own but as my feelings grew, my life now depended on her.
ANYA: “I’ll tell you this much though. If you “tell” and I leave eventually. I’d never want to see you. Even if I leave for other reasons. I’d never want to see you again if you “tell”.”
The more Anya texted me, the more she began to chip away at my trust in her love for me.
ANYA: “It’s not a threat or anything like that. It would just be as simple as breaking trust. I’m already having a hard time with some of our past convos right now.”
ANYA: “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m just trying to feel better and would like us to be friendly again. Still blown away and haven’t been able to snap out of it.”
If I did tell Jackson, I would’ve already concluded that she had betrayed me. Her words did upset me because they came with zero responsibility for the way I felt. She never considered how she brought me into her life. The same woman who claimed she felt responsible for taking two years from me now told me I had no right to feel betrayed by that. If it did come to confronting Jackson, the enigma she should’ve made known to me in the beginning, she should understand her role if she wanted me to understand the “kid” card she played. The same one she played with Lance. Two guys she left to face the tragedies of their own existences. And she was mad I broke her heart? Did she ever consider the hearts she has broken or did she always play the damsel in distress? It also seemed she was fine without love in a marriage—she didn’t have to deal with any emotions there. After all of his infidelities and disrespect. After all the resentment and anger that will never be resolved—she truly argued with me more than her husband? Even after Andrew’s premature birth? Even after he put her in the position to tell Jackson’s lover’s husband? Did she think people in love didn’t argue this way? She asked me to fight for her and I did exactly that. The problem was she fought with me instead of for me—another thing I trusted her never to do. A hurdle for me to overcome was that Anya did things she knew would hurt me if she did them, yet her love for me never stopped her from doing each and every one of them. Her disregard to all the things she said and did that allowed and encouraged me to be here is what caused me enough pain to hold on to the “tell” card. I didn’t want to “tell” Jackson anything, but I hated her marriage enough because of the pain its brought to others outside of it to blow it up. I didn’t bring her here, she brought me here. What was wrong with me telling Jackson anything if she didn’t love him and she loved me? She told me she was willing to risk everything yet when faced with it she coiled and that inconsistency—that lack of follow-through is what scared me more than I could ever scare her. This perfect picture she painted to those around her had hurt my life and I failed to see the love in her bringing me in to be a part of the lie. That’s not what I signed up for and after two years, I didn’t plan to go away silently. Love would’ve never threatened me with what she did. I hid nothing from her. She could show up at my apartment and I’d have nothing to hide from her, but I couldn’t do the same. The person I loved dearly would morph into someone I never knew and yet, confronting Jackson would make her feel betrayed? Why could I approach Jackson the way Anya approached the husband of the woman Jackson cheated with? Weren’t we both “victims” and had to come to a solution? I trusted Anya to leave Jackson after all we shared. How could she look him in the eye knowing all we’ve shared? If she didn’t feel any guilt for that then he must be even worse than she led me on to believe. It made me believe her marriage was nothing but legal prostitution—he basically had to pay to get her to stay. All these negative feelings ran through me until I realized the end game; either try to fix this or die—there were no other options. I had no plans to “tell” her husband anything—I just didn’t like being threatened, not after all the gut-wrenching nights my heart ached for her while she slept next to the man, she purposely told me horrible things about so I’d care for her happiness. I’m the only one who stood up for her happiness and in her eyes, I was the monster for it. Maybe my presentation wasn’t the best but dammit, I trusted all she ever told me about her unhappiness. Yet here I was, the villain—no longer the hero.
ME: “I understand. In all fairness, I’m having trust issues with you anyway. Why did you think I even thought of talking to him?”
ANYA: “That’s fine. I don’t want tit for tat. Please don’t throw things right back at me. Maybe wait a bit to do that. I don’t like it when you throw it right back.”
ME: “This isn’t about “tit for tat” or “throwing it right back”. There’s two sides and people here. I’m just saying we are both having trust issues and if we love each other they can be resolved.”
ANYA: “I don’t want to get upset. I refuse. I just want peace. I’ve told you the truth and that’s all I can say or do. You believe what you want to believe.”
At a time, I was trying to understand, she hit me with yet another lie—I’ve told you the truth. If she told me the truth, I would’ve known about the hole she couldn’t get out of. She told me that Lance left her because she had baggage—not because she was there because she worried about them. I asked her why she was still married after Jackson’s infidelities—she told me it was because no one would be there for her if she left. She told me she would be with me if I swept her off her feet—she told me I did that six months ago. Her ego, as great as Jackson’s, caused her to misrepresent herself to me to be pacified. The only thing I was believing was the truth.
ME: “Judge me outside the “situation”, not inside of it. I agree with you, it raises a trust issue. There have been times I wonder if you’re being completely honest with me. I believe you because I want to believe you. Because I want to trust you. Because I want peace between us.”
ANYA: “Ok so what have I said to you that you don’t believe? When have I broken your trust? Just would like to know.”
ME: “It’s the things you choose not to tell me. What you choose to omit to avoid hurting me or to avoid you having to deal with me around your kids. I believe everything you do tell me. Truth by omission is not honesty and I have trust issues because of it now.”
ANYA: “That’s it? Wow.”
I knew she could never deny that truth—it happened every single day now. I began to learn Anya was only sensitive to the things that affected her, and not the things that truly affected me. And for the first time, I met the real Anya Caiaphas, Jackson’s wife. The little girl with unresolved issues who married him for money and status—not the one who led me to believe she was in great sorrow and unloved. When I thought about the number of days, and nights, I spent paralyzed and unable to sleep in bed because of all the pain the unknown brought me, I had never felt more used. In her careless world, as long I couldn’t see what she did, she couldn’t hurt me. But even the things she didn’t tell me, found a way to hurt me. It had come to the point that anything she ever did, even if I disappeared from her life, would affect me for a long time to come. If she didn’t care if I dated someone, there’s no way she could’ve loved me at all—that she gave up on us a long time ago.
ME: “That’s not being honest. Just think if you would have been completely honest with me about everything, maybe we’re not having this conversation right now?”
ANYA: “So I’m getting punished for something I haven’t even done? Really?”
It made me sad when she thought I punished her. I guess I did, but I felt so wronged by her. My low self esteem never allowed me to think that losing being in my presence would be a punishment to anyone. Pain had consumed me to the point I could no longer think straight.
ME: “Ok, here’s an example. When you thought your husband knew and Debbie asked you what if he does and you told Debbie in response “I’d be ok. I love Landyn.” Not that I blame you for telling him we’re “just friends” b/c of the kids, but I was disappointed and started to question.”
ANYA: “Started to question based on what?”
ME: “Based on the fact you couldn’t make at least a promise to be with me. Based on the fact you refuse to be honest with anyone after all we’ve shared. It made me question if you loved me as much as you said you did especially when he learned my name. It made me question your intentions from the beginning. It made me question if you only loved me because I was a secret, and if I thought for a second in the beginning I would only be your secret and not worth fighting for to be with. That if what we had was “so special” you would be proud of me or vouch for me to him, then you wouldn’t be reading what I’m texting to you right now.”
ANYA: “Just question in your head? Nothing else to go on? I’ve never broken promises. That’s something.”
ME: “It’s easy to not break a promise when you don’t make one.”
ANYA: “Please stop “questioning” my love.”
At this point, the writing was on the wall for me when she now aimed to control my thoughts. I had to give her credit—she never made a promise she hadn’t kept. A promise from her was solid and I knew having a promise from her to be with me would make me feel safe—I’d feel she did tell me the truth. There was honesty from Anya there. She’s been honest now but it should’ve come eighteen months ago, not after I fell deeply in love with her. She had no right to love me the way she did without any intentions to leave her husband and that incinerated me like a walk on the sun. Anya needed to recognize she had a shitty husband, and that’s why I existed in her life—not a special love for me. I felt bad questioning her love, I know she loved me in some form, but I felt too much agony because she led me to believe she loved me the same way I loved her. The more I texted with her, the more I seethed surmising she felt she betrayed her kids. She would’ve crucified me if she believed that was true, it would kill me.
Our love meant more to me than it seemed to mean to her. If she believed she betrayed her kids, then she blamed her love for me as the culprit—not what Jackson did that led her to me. I never questioned if he hadn’t cheated on her, but now questioned if it mattered to her at all. I thought I gave her a gift, but it seemed she never truly believed in love to truly see it as such. I had to talk with someone about all my feelings, and this entire situation in confidence, hoping to see the wrong in what I’ve done to her—I didn’t want to be right about anything I felt. I never wanted to be more wrong about anything in my life because being wrong meant she truly wanted to be with me. I tried to understand her anger too—she was mad at her situation as much as I was. The only problem with it was she had control to change it and chose not to. The hole she was in she should’ve told me when we met because now, what do I do with all of this? Instead, she made me feel guilty for walking away and for breaking her heart. I walked away back then so I wouldn’t have to do it now—so she also had to understand the origin of my temper tantrums. If she recognized she did do that, I could shut up but she argued back without a care of what she did that led me here. I just couldn’t get past that aspect of our disagreement. And we were going to argue because I loved her enough to give her a chance to prove me wrong.
As I tried to save myself from certain death, it was death itself, two of them to be exact, that came to my rescue on this day, the twenty fifth day in the month of June, 2009.
ME: “I just heard Michael Jackson died today. Can’t believe it.”
ANYA “I just heard too! That’s freaky! Farrah Fawcett (sp?) died too. They die in 3’s! Who’s next?”
I wanted to text her “me”, but didn’t think I was famous enough to be considered
ME: “Ed McMahon died just the other day. Michael was the third!”
ANYA “Yeah I just figured that out! Freaky!”
Although Anya and I had another bad day, another day I never could’ve dreamed would ever happen between us, it ended on a good note. In the middle of my heartbreak, I forgot about my partnership promotion now only five weeks away. Anya and I both sat on negative feelings the last few days and I know we both wanted to know there was hope for us regardless. I loved her and I wanted to believe in her love for me even as the deck was stacked higher against me. With a partnership promotion she knew nothing about and a therapist who could help me work through my low self esteem issues, maybe I could turn this around. Even though what I felt did have some validity, I still loved her to death. I just hated to love someone so much because I trusted they wouldn’t bring me in a scenario that they would view upon as wrecking lives—a horrific feeling reserved for plane crash victims. Maybe I was blowing this? Maybe my past got in the way of my present and my future? What if I truly did punish Anya for loving me? I would feel better if I held myself accountable and found a way to be noble for her again. I didn’t want her to think I messed with her heart. I had to find a way to love myself in order to save her.
I spent the entire night lost in thought and unable to sleep. I started to feel guilty for all of this. Maybe I was overreacting to everything but her letting me go, although seemed logical, it felt like a death sentence to me. She lost nothing while I lost everything. It wasn’t a trade-off done with love, but with her not recognizing at all why I could be so upset at her. I expected a child to love me this way, not a forty-year-old woman. She claimed to have an inexperienced heart, and in a way she did, but her history suggested otherwise. It was the third day I had to call in sick because how much pain her indecision left me in—or rather her harsh decision. At the same time, to not agree with her would be also saying “hey, I want to hurt your kids”, but I felt by allowing and encouraging me to feel all I did for her, she HAD to look at that differently. That the love in her heart for me, if it existed, meant telling the kids the truth and not hurting them. I felt the best thing to do was to look inside rather than question her love. At about seven the next morning, I texted Anya.
ME: “How r u?”
ANYA: “Ok. U? Still can’t believe MJ is dead.
ME: “He was the biggest thing for me growing up. The album “Thriller” has so many good memories for me as a kid. He had so many great songs. It’s hard to put into words. Sad to see how much this crooked world changed him. If it makes any sense, I’m shocked but at the same time not surprised he died.”
ANYA: “I know. He was weird but I love his songs. He was very talented.”
About an hour later, I texted her again as I had a lot to make her aware of.
ME: “I hope you don’t have to see a doctor over us. I have low self esteem issues.”
ME: “I feel I’m unlovable. People who love me, I question them. I feel maybe I’ve punished you for loving me.”
ME: “I think I need to learn to love myself because, I just don’t. I think it leaves me to think people are always trying to hurt me b/c I feel I’m truly unlovable. I’ve been alone too long and all this time took its toll on me without really realizing how it’s made me feel not worthy of love, so much so, I’ve become skeptical when someone loves me and even worse, if they love me then leave me.”
ME: “I think I may have been grossly unfair and negligent to your feelings and to you. I have to shoulder the blame. This is really all my fault”
ME: “Maybe I should be the one begging you for a friendship. I hope one day you will forgive me.”
ME: “I’m sorry I made you feel fearful because of my threats to tell him. I just really needed you that night.”
ME: “This heartbreak will help me to get straightened out.”
ME: “When you wear your thingie, just please remember I truly love you. You’re beautiful to me. You always will be. Just know I didn’t love myself. You did all you could.”
When I sent these off and didn’t receive a single response, I thought it went through one eye and out the other, but when she began to text me back, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
ANYA: “Sorry driving”
ANYA: “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to end it. I really felt I had no choice. Of course, you’re worthy of love. I fell in love with you because you’re a wonderful person.”
ANYA: “I really did try. I will keep and wear your thingie forever.”
ANYA: “I understand you were frustrated. Idk how you couldn’t be.”
ME: “Just know it’s only because I love you and not because I don’t. You’re my best friend and love. It’s rare to be in love and want to hang with that person all the time.”
ME: “I don’t want to make excuses but I also think I’m angry about my mom’s illness and that added to it a little. Just really wanted you to meet her and for her to meet you, and that’s another reason I’ve pushed. It’s ok though. I learned a lot from this. I know why you did what you did. You had to.”
ANYA: “OMG. I’m so touched. I know I would love her.”
ME: “She thinks the world of you.”
ANYA: “That makes me sad.”
ME: “It’s ok! Sorry to tell you that. I just wanted you to know. Not so you would feel sad.”
I truly felt bad about telling Anya how much my mom liked her. It made her feel guilty for a decision she didn’t want to make, but had to, and that was not my intention. My intentions were to communicate to her that I could take responsibility for this nightmare I created with my heart ache. I missed her beyond the capacity to miss someone. I needed her so badly in my life that it became life and death for me. Along the way, the frustration blinded me to the bigger picture and I had to make this right for her so we had a chance to make it there. Everything I texted Anya was sincere, and truly how I felt—owing her to love myself so I could love her the way she needed me to.
ME: “I feel, in hindsight, which is always 20/20, I should have let you go when you sent me Katie’s letter. I guess through her own words I saw her resiliency but I should’ve been strong enough to let you go and give you time to absorb things. I messed up there. So hard to do at the time and easier said than done.”
ME: “I was terrified at the thought of not seeing you ever again at the time so I held on. Now, I have no choice”
ME: “I guess it was much easier to blame you than myself but sometimes you just have to look at yourself in the mirror and take responsibility for the outcome of things. I think I can do that now.”
ANYA: “What made you change?”
ME: “I think it’s what you said about the “trust” thing. Punishing you for the things that you didn’t tell me. You were right. It made sense and made me look at myself instead. Maybe I wasn’t being fair to you by doing that.”
My low self esteem allowed me to imagine the worst-case scenarios, even the ones that didn’t happen—a defensive mechanism. My past only allowing me to see the bad and not the good in people. I also knew this wasn’t all on me, but Anya as well, but being a man who truly loved her, I should dig deeper inside and heap this on myself—the only way I could learn to grow and love myself. Hopefully, it would save our hearts from forever breaking and give us a chance.
ANYA: “Just want to give you a big hug right now.”
ME: “I got some things to prove to you before I deserve any hugs.”
ANYA: “You know I still love you. You will always have a piece of my heart. Like I said before it’s me you’re talking to. I’m not some stranger. Us, it was real.”
ME: “Thank you for that. That means so much to me. I will always remember that. You’ve showed me I was wrong the last 3 days in your texts. A lot of love and there would be no anger with me if there wasn’t love for me.”
ME: “I need help though still. Not with the anger, but with the missing. The missing is what leads to my anger, but I think I’m at the acceptance stage of this thing now.”
ANYA: “I agree that it would be good to talk to someone.”
ME: “I have a mental job unfortunately so it’s imperative.”
ANYA: “I think we all could use talking to someone.”
ME: “I was surprised you even mentioned that to me. Made me feel sad for you. Made me realize “Hey Landyn, guess what? She’s hurting too.”
ANYA: “It’s not easy for me.”
ME: “I know. The problem is I don’t think I’m anything special, so that was hard for me to see. Years and years of feeling that way. A lot of days and hours feeling unworthy of someone I loved loving me the same in return. You can always take solace in the fact it’s not easy for me too and don’t wonder about things at all because you know how I feel about you. It was real.”
ANYA: “It was real for sure.”
Although it pained me greatly to hear her talk about us in the past tense, I had to look past it into the future if we still had one. We shared too many beautiful moments for me to punish her the way I had, or to feel a hundred percent sure about it. I looked at things as “she couldn’t help falling in love with me”, but was that such a bad thing? When she accused me of using her own words against her, like when I fired back “now there are things I can’t help” I finally related to where she was coming from. I just wanted for her to see how not being able to help it could affect her negatively as well. I needed to check myself before I broke myself by putting my past failures with women in check. These issues with women from my past needed to be faced now or lose the chance at a love of a lifetime. I had to find a way to trust her even as my mind told me not to. I didn’t want to give in to the world and its dark outlook. I didn’t want to conform to putting my mind before my heart, like every individual does and calls it being rational. You had to be irrational to feel the true happiness love brings. Whatever gut instincts I had, they had to be left behind. I’d never have the love I dreamt of if my mind was used to support its case. How could I throw away all we shared, surrounded by the mementos of her heart she left in my room? I walk inside my apartment and all I have are memories with her. Every night I come home I’m surrounded by memories of her. All the times she cried and all the times I held her in my arms. All the times she tried to escape from my arms only to be pulled back in. And that one sweet time she pulled me back to her. All the heart-to-heart talks, good and bad. I was going to throw all that away because I thought she celebrated a marriage I already knew existed? She didn’t tell me any details, the things better left unsaid, because she didn’t want to lose me, not because she didn’t love me. After each time Jackson harassed her, after each time her son looked at her and begged her not to leave and even after Katie’s letter—she fought for us in some form, even if it had to be only a friendship. She simply didn’t tell me things because she didn’t want to lose me, not that she didn’t love me. She’s angry like never before because she loved me a great deal more than she ever loved Jackson. Funny to think we fought for the same things but viewed them opposingly against each other. To save us from eternal sadness, I had to find a way to connect to what she fought for, then she may see what I truly fought for too. We deserved the greatest joy imaginable, not the greatest sadness imaginable. Believing this love couldn’t end this way, I had to gut out my internal house and redecorate it with our memories together, and not my past.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Later that evening, she sent me a text.
ANYA: “U alright?”
ME: “Yes. I am. R u?”
ANYA: “Yes. Worried about you but I always worry. Glad you told me what you told me today. I questioned your character but I know it was just because you were frustrated.”
Anya would have never said “yes”, if I hadn’t said it, as she always tried to meet me where I was emotionally. When she questioned my character, I found if funny only in the sense my feelings were because I questioned hers. I ignored her jab though, and tried to keep my focus on fixing my side of the fence.
ME: “I just need to talk to someone, a therapist. I think it will help with all I’m dealing with and not lead to any more pressure from me.”
ANYA: “I’m sure a therapist will tell you not to ever speak to me again, but I hope we can continue contact at least at some level.”
It was something I never considered a therapist would tell me. And if she felt a therapist would tell me that, why would she fight me on anything I felt?
ME: “I could never take that advice.”
ANYA: “No matter what anyone or any professional tells you or me, we have to believe that what we had was extraordinary and true. I don’t want to lose that. We were one. I’ll always believe that. We don’t always get to marry or end up with our soulmates but I know in my heart that I was given the opportunity to at least meet mine.”
Her first sentence warmed my heart, but also left me to wonder if she truly believed this, how come she couldn’t vouch for me? At least enough to make a promise? I didn’t care for her last sentence much just because she had something to fall back on. She truly lost nothing and risked nothing if she knew Jackson would want her to start fresh if he knew. At least she had the opportunity to have kids and be a mom—she took the chance for me to have a family away from me because it would take years for me to trust again. Lucky me—being stuck in limbo forever because I met my soulmate. People who don’t end up with their soulmates never meet them and that’s why they never end up together for the most part. They don’t hide a hole they are in from them giving them false hope to begin with. Now, it seemed I’d be buried alone next to strangers. She was just happy for the opportunity while I opted for more than that—an option she led me to believe existed when we first met. That if I swept her off her feet, something the word soulmate implied, that she would be with me—no permission asked from anyone. I wasn’t going to see a therapist to end us, but to save us.
ME: “If my therapist discounts my love for you then he/she will not be my therapist. I’m going there for help because I need to love who I am, and that would only set me further back.”
ANYA: “I love you and I always will. I promise.”
ME: “I love you and I always will too. I promise. Please don’t worry about me, of course I hurt, but I’ll be ok.”
ANYA: “I’m crying I can’t help it.”
ME: “Why Sweetheart? We’re going to both be ok you know. No one can ever take away or have what we had together.”
ANYA: “No, no one can. Listening to my old playlists and reflecting. I couldn’t listen to them for the longest time but I think I’m facing my emotions now. Crying.”
Her tears caught me by surprise. My intent wasn’t to make her cry but to ease her mind about me. To be honest, I thought of the bridge more than ever, and how it might be my only way out. Another reason I needed to seek help, a fate I might be left to face. All we shared just meant everything to me. It brought me back to a time of happiness in my life I never thought I’d feel again. It wouldn’t be her fault though. It would be my own and my inability to deal with a past that haunted me like never before. Love, true love, meant everything to have in life to me. I didn’t want to fall into the earth trap by trying to achieve heaven on earth, but with half my life gone, the odds were against me if this didn’t work out between us. When Anya went to her old playlists though, I felt hope even as she told me there was none. Just like the times she showed me “I love you” without telling me those exact words. I believed her heart was like mine, and would not give up on us. I wanted to better myself so she faced no more “outrage” from me ever again.
ME: “There r so many songs that I hear and you’re the only thing that pops into my head. Like “Babylon” and “This Year’s Love” by David Gray. Everything by Michael Buble, Greg Laswell, Damien Rice’s “Cannonball”. Every time I hear these song it takes me to a very happy time in my life. It’s so crazy. Even happy songs you burned for me can make me cry.”
ANYA: “I know what you mean.”
Who could ever take that away from us? She could be with Jackson out to dinner at a Spanish restaurant and “Toda Una Vida” will elicit an emotional response in her because she would think of me, and what she lost, even years from now. I couldn’t let her go down that road because I knew whenever I heard any of the hundreds of songs she burned for me, I would always think of her too, no matter who I was with.
ME: “I will always remember every moment we had.”
ANYA: “Me too baby.”
ME: “You’re the only one I could call “babe” and “baby”. You’ll always be babe and baby to me. Hope ur doing ok over there.”
ANYA: “Ok”
After five straight days of going back and forth with each other, it was nice to have the peace that bred hope again. If this therapist discounted my love for Anya, or hers for me, I would have to seek others until I found the right one. Although I had my doubts, I felt they mostly existed because of my past failure to women. It was such a powerful and intolerant defense mechanism it had to lend to the delusional at times. I loved Anya too much to not trust in her love for me. A different outlook would produce the man she fell in love with, and bring back the most beautiful woman in the world to me. We were worth it.
I didn’t hear from her the following day, the 27th one in June, but I felt we both needed the break as we texted each other non-stop to help find a solution to my emotional break down. It allowed me to catch up with work and find the time to look for a therapist in my medical insurance directory. I decided to try this psychiatrist office in Irvine, near my work, as they seemed to help with all the symptoms I struggled with. I chose to go with a female doctor over a male one as I believed she could provide more insight into how women think. I wanted to absorb myself in Anya’s perspective on things so I could be a better man for her.
The next day, on my lunch hour, I reached out to Anya to see how she was doing.
ANYA: “I feel bad all around.”
ME: “What is meant to be, will be babe. I know you really tried.”
ANYA: “You’re right. I read a quote last night “Life is short, never regret anything that made you smile”. I like that. Made me smile.”
If Anya truly believed she betrayed her kids in anyway, she wouldn’t have smiled. Her regret existed because of the pain she felt, and maybe because it distracted her from the kids the last five days. If she would never regret being with me, then she didn’t truly love Jackson, and she didn’t betray her kids, and that made me smile.
ME: “That’s a nice quote. My only regret is hurting you the way I did. I feel if I love who I am, I would’ve never hurt you because I would just feel it was your loss (not in an arrogant way but a self confident way). I feel this is my loss though. I feel I failed you. I would feel these things anyway, but just to a lesser degree.”
ANYA: “I know you didn’t want to hurt me. I understand what you’re trying to tell me.”
ME: “In no way. You kept telling me I was hurting you and I didn’t really get it because I felt “Well you’re hurting me too, u know”. I’ve realized you weren’t hurting me at all. My feelings of self loathe were hurting me and then in turn, hurting you. I really hurt you though. I never meant to. You’re beautiful, you know.”
I truly meant what I said to her. Although on the surface, I felt the truth would set her free, and not hurt her. It would force her to choose, and so I’d knew what direction I had to take, but if she claimed it would hurt her and the kids, especially the kids, I didn’t mean to do that. I just wanted to force her into honesty, and away from the lies and distrust. I didn’t think it would hurt her, but if she said it would, then I had to believe her.
ANYA: “I know you didn’t mean to. You’re a beautiful person. I hope you learn to love yourself because there is no other like you. You’re very special and I’m thankful.”
ME: “Thanks babe. I wish I could see myself the way you see me.”
ANYA: “Babe you have sooo much going for yourself – looks, smarts, personality, kind heart, profession! It’s my loss.”
I didn’t want this to be her loss. If she truly believed I represented all these things, this is why she deserved me. She deserved the best version of me though, one who saw the same things in myself she did. If I could do that, our love would even be more spectacular than I dreamed it could be.
When the next day arrived, I finally got the guts to call and set an appointment up at the psychiatrist’s office. After I did so, I texted Anya to see how her day was going.
ANYA: “Holding up ok. How r u? Another beautiful day.”
ME: “I’m holding up ok, too. Just wanted to check in and let you know I set up an appointment to meet with a psychiatrist. I felt a little awkward doing it.”
ANYA: “Why awkward hun? I’m proud of you for doing that.”
ME: “Idk, I guess they probably think they’re talking to some kind of crazy guy on the other end of the line. I’m just trying to be a better person.”
After I gave the receptionist my name, I felt the call made me feel inferior to them. I guess it made me feel like I wasn’t a normal person anymore, but then again, if the call made me feel that way, it only provided me with more evidence of why I needed to make it. It also made me feel by seeing a therapist that it was admitting I was nuts, and it would change Anya’s feelings for me. I really hoped by admitting I could use some help that it may stop her from using us in the past tense. As I thought these very things, Anya tried to connect with me as she seemed to sense the reason for my fears.
ANYA: “You know I still think about you every second. Even though we’re not together. I never stop thinking about you and what we had. Just want you to know. Good memories.”
ME: “Thank you. It’s the same for me too. The best times I’ve ever had in my life were all spent with you. You made them good memories for me.”
ANYA: “Hope I didn’t bum you out with what I said. I just wanted you to know that I don’t just go about my day as if my life hasn’t changed.”
ME: “You didn’t bum me out. It helps to know that. After all we’ve been through the last five days, it means a lot to me. You’re embedded in me no matter what happens.”
ANYA: “Not sure if it’s such a good idea to keep telling you. Just didn’t want you to think I can walk away that easily. You’re forever embedded.”
ME: “It helps me to know and I appreciate it.”
ANYA: “That’s funny we used the same word “embedded” while texting at the same time.”
ME: “We’re always connected on some level, babe.”
As I worried about Anya, and about the things that went on in her home, I lost sight of her feelings for me. It became about “me” in a way I’m sure she wasn’t used to. I had to get my mind straightened out, and back focused on work as well. I hoped a therapist could be a mediator between my heart and mind—to bring forth a peace treaty with the two. I had to admit to the world, I breathed with my heart, and not my lungs. Life brought the most happiness when the heart won over the mind, but it came at a great risk and at a great cost in this world. A world that grew further away from love over the years. Even Anya herself viewed it as irrational and unrealistic. I guess in the sense nothing really lasts forever, it made sense she felt that way. I just thought we had something different between us—if it didn’t last forever it would last for a lot longer time than her and Jackson’s ever did. If the situation was removed, and she truly loved me, there was no doubt in my mind there were some things that last forever.
If a bridge couldn’t be built between my heart and mind, I would have to accept my belief in love was outdated, childish, ridiculous and worst of all, unrealistic. Regardless of having a great career in front of me with many opportunities to be happy in this world, it would have to be done solo and forever lonely—a never ending sadness hid behind a smile and worldly possessions. I would never trust in anyone’s love again. If I heard “I love you” from the lips of another woman again, I would only hear “I love what you can give me” or “I love what I can take from you”. Anya represented my last hope in women and their ability to know what love truly was. I’d forever believe women I found myself attracted to only cared about what they could receive from me. If I had fallen in love in high school, or met someone when I had nothing but dreams, I could trust in a woman’s love for me—I knew they loved me for me. As I got older, and although I didn’t believe this applied to all other men and women, love would never find its way back to me again—I’d be too fearful and skeptical to ever let it back in. I didn’t want to live a life that way. As awkward I felt about not feeling like a normal person after I gave the receptionist at the psychiatrist’s office my name, the truth was simply this—to the rest of the world, I was far from normal.
When the afternoon of the last day of the month of June came upon me, Anya sent me a text.
ANYA: “Today is the 30th.”
ME: “I know. A lot of good memories over the last nineteen months!”
ANYA: “For sure! I don’t want to make you sad or give you hope but just want to share with you that I wore my thingie today. I put it on 1st thing this morning. Good memories.”
When I read “Today is the 30th”, the day of the month we met nineteen months ago, a tear transited down my cheek. It meant a lot she remembered not the day we met, but the day we reconnected—the day we decided to give it a try. I fought so hard to have the love I forever believed in—this just meant more to me than she could ever comprehend. I dreamt of this growing up, but she never did. Of course, I would fight for her love more than she would fight for mine. Of course, I would do crazy things that scared her. When you’ve waited for this your entire life—I had no choice but to fight for it by all means necessary. Again, if I could get my head straight then maybe I could give her the hope I took away from her with my pain. Even after all our disagreements, and all the bad vibes, she still believed, but I still had to deliver. For her to put her thingie on first thing on this morning, it breathed new life into me.
ME: “Babe, please don’t feel you can’t tell me things like that. It only validates why I think you’re so beautiful. Hope or no hope. Sad or happy, that made my day. It also made me smile and tear up at the same time. It is the 30th. I love you forever.”
ANYA: “I love you forever.”
After five days of absolute hell, of what seemed like a darkest of nightmares. my life had morphed into this—a day of much needed healing. It breathed life into the dream of a lighted Eiffel Tower under a Paris moon.
As the day carried on, Clyde came by my office and asked me if I could perform a period end inventory count at midnight for the client we had near the LAX airport. Audit managers were never asked to perform inventory counts, but since the firm had to lay off some of its Audit staff, I couldn’t say “no” now only one month away from becoming a partner of the firm. Later that evening, just as a blue sky moon began its journey into the rays of the Sun, Anya texted me again.
ANYA: “U know I miss u. Again, not trying to start anything. Just miss u, that’s all.”
ME: “I understand, babe. Thank you.”
ANYA: “You just get used to it, just like you are with your schedule.”
ME: “Do you understand now why I adore you so much? This might surprise you, but I miss you too, and I’ll never stop missing you. I’m not going to the therapist to forget about you. I’m going because I want to love you better.”
After I informed Anya I had to drive to LAX to perform an emergency inventory count at midnight, We both wished each other a “goodnight”, as I got in my car and began my forty mile freeway trek. My face carried a smile the entire time thinking of the great kindness of Anya’s texts to me—listening to the CD’s she burned for me on my drive to work. I arrived an hour early before the count began so I could grab the inventory listing to plan out the most efficient way to perform the count. All I had to do was recount some high value inventory items to confirm their existence so I hoped it would only take a couple of hours. The count ended up only taking an hour and I was back home by two in the morning. A few hours later after I arrived home, Anya texted me after my longer than anticipated night counting artichokes.
ANYA: “U awake? How did it go last nite?”
ME: “I’m awake. It went ok. I can’t believe we’re in July already.”
ANYA: “I know! Before you know it we’ll be out X-mas shopping!”
ANYA: “Have a good day.”
ME: “I miss u, u know. You never leave my mind for a second. Just wanted you to know.”
ANYA: “I know. I miss u too. I’m going to be in Vegas for Katie’s competition week July 5th – 11th. I’m staying at the MGM cuz that’s where the comps are being held. The whole fam is going until Tuesday and then it will be Katie and I from Wed to Sat.”
ME: “That sounds like a lot of fun.”
ANYA: “As much as I would love for you to go to Vegas on Wed, I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’re not offended, are you?”
I really wasn’t offended by that at all, just again, another inconsistency from her, but I grew used to them by now. I just had to keep my eyes on the bigger picture and realize why she felt that way.
ANYA: “Sorry never mind. Ttyl!”
ME: “I didn’t think there would be a chance to see you if I went. Wasn’t expecting anything really. Not saying it wouldn’t be nice though.”
ANYA: “I don’t mind if you go to LV when I’m there. You can go whenever you want. Of course, it would be nice but I just don’t think it’s a good idea to see each other.”
ME: “Not a good idea. Ok.”
ANYA: “My heart couldn’t take it.”
ME: “I understand.”
When she told me her “heart couldn’t take it”, I felt the same as she did; maybe it wasn’t such a good idea.
ANYA: “Did I bum you out? I shouldn’t have told you. I’m beating myself up for saying something.”
ME: “No babe. I know you want to see me.”
ANYA: “Ok thank u. Glad u know that.”
ME: “Ok I am bummed out. Would love to have experienced LV with you. It’s hard. Hard not to want to love you because I do so much.”
ANYA: “I’m sorry. Do you understand now why I can’t tell you things? It makes you sad therefore makes me sad. I don’t want to be down. It’s not me.”
If she’s a person who is never down, why did she lead me to believe she was when we first met? It could have spared me from this pain I felt. I needed to know these things whether they hurt me or not. If she was afraid to feel “sad” then what was her incentive to be honest with me, and that’s what led to my trust issues with her.
ME: “I guess I thought maybe you wanted to see me. My mistake.”
ANYA: “I do but not a good idea. Please don’t start. I had a really bad day.”
Her “really bad day” shut me down really quick as my concern shifted from me to her.
ME: “I’m not upset. I’m sorry. It’s ok. Why a bad day?”
ANYA: “Just one of those shitty days w/everything that’s all.”
I wasn’t being fair to her about this, and after I knew she had a bad day, I felt bad for what I said.
ME: “I’m sorry to hear that babe. I just love you, ok? I’m not mad. Wish I could give you a hug. I’m here for you if you need to talk.”
After an hour passed and I didn’t hear back from her, I sent her another text to acknowledge my fault.
ME: “Guess I can’t blame you for not wanting to tell me anything. I love u, u know. Take care over there.”
ANYA: “Thank you. I love u.”
I’m sure her love began to wane for me after my latest misstep. Emotionally, I was not the same man she met—I loved her more than ever. Anything she did without me was crushing. The things she shared at times felt like getting burned on the stove—a reaction you can’t control. My emotions were like that now and they singed me each and every time—especially when Jackson was around. I couldn’t penalize her for being a mom, and for Jackson being a father. It felt like I had no choice to not be hurt by the things she did anymore, even as legitimate as they were to everyone else. Unfortunately, those legitimate things on the outside is what kept me in pain and apart from the only one who could stop it.
When the next day arrived, I planned to leave her alone. If she wanted to share anything with me, she would. I knew she didn’t want to give me any false hope, but she already did that for the last nineteen months. The truth was, she feared to give me any fuel, and any further good reasons I had for her to leave Jackson.
ANYA: “How r u?”
ME: “I’m ok. Just having a late lunch. How r u?”
ANYA: “I’m ok. Just another day of driving around. Oh, that’s nice babe! Have a great lunch! Smile!”
Her “smile” melted me like butter in a microwave set on high as I seemed to forget all I felt earlier. When my day came to an end, and I was back at my apartment, I texted her.
ME: “R u having a better day today?”
ANYA: “Hi! I’m just having drama w/Debbie. She’s sooo emotional I can’t stand it!”
Anya brought me to another reason why I adored Debbie, she was an emotional human being with real feelings like me. If Anya couldn’t stand her being “sooo emotional”, how did she truly feel about me? Did she have any real empathy or was she someone I never knew?
ME: “Was this why you had a shitty day yesterday?”
ANYA: “Yes but one of many challenges yesterday.”
ME: “I’m sorry. If I may ask, why is she being so emotional?”
ANYA: “She knows about the BU and she hasn’t been a very good supportive friend so I pulled away and now she’s whining.”
ME: “What? This is about the BU? It can’t be.”
ANYA: “Yes why not?”
This was about our break-up? Why would she feel Debbie wasn’t being supportive? I could only reason it was because she and Carolyn both advised her to leave me after six months, but they should be mad at me for that, but not mad at Anya—we both felt six months wasn’t enough time for her to leave. I couldn’t blame Debbie at all for not being “supportive”. She knew I was the second guy here, and not the first. How many times would Debbie have to go through this with her? Debbie helped enable Anya, and even stuck her neck out for her, like a good friend would. I hoped, even though I could be wrong, Debbie saw the wrong in what she did to both Lance and I, and decided not to enable her anymore.
ME: “She wants you to cut off all contact I bet.”
ANYA: “No. Please don’t assume.”
In my heart, I wanted to believe she wanted Anya to do the right thing, come clean, and leave Jackson, if she truly loved me. I remembered one time Debbie mentioned we had two things she didn’t have with Jackson—trust and respect. We truly had both those things if Anya were to leave Jackson. Maybe Debbie wasn’t being supportive of the break up because she knew we belonged together if Anya still loved me. As I continued to discuss what happened with Anya, the more I wanted to believe she wanted her to leave Jackson, and it’s why I was so intrigued.
ME: “I love that woman! Haha!”
ANYA: “Drama queen.”
She decided to stop talking to Debbie for reasons she didn’t know of. Didn’t Anya’s silence create the drama? Didn’t Anya approaching me at Sonoma’s over two years ago prompt the drama between us? Could she at least see her role in anything she did that left people to react emotionally to her?
ME: “Does Debbie see you in pain over us? I’m just curious. I know you have been hurting pretty bad. So have I, of course.”
ANYA: “She told me I’m ignoring her and I told her she’s not sensitive to my pain. She said “What do u mean I’ve been totally supportive” which is not true. I’m sick of it. I don’t need drama!”
What I heard sounded similar to something Mitch had said to me. Although, I never received his support from day one, he certainly would never be sensitive to my pain.
ME: “Sounds familiar. I think I know how you feel. Does she discount your feelings for me? Tells you it wasn’t real? I’m not assuming.”
ANYA: “No”
ME: “Makes it seem like it’s easy to move on?”
ANYA: “Way off”
ME: “She must not support the BU. She must not know everything though. How bad it’s been. Then again, she doesn’t know about his infidelity too. Of course, I’m just taking a stab at this.”
ANYA: “Wrong again. It’s nothing but girl drama. She wants my attention.”
Anya’s responses of “wrong again” and “way off”, felt cold and uncalled for. She told me this drama was because of the break up so what else was I left to think? Anya demanded Debbie to be sensitive to her pain, yet Anya, I felt, wasn’t being sensitive to mine.
ME: “You told me it was related to the BU so that’s why I texted you my thoughts.”
ANYA: “It does but not directly. Please don’t read into it. I just wanted to tell you I’m having drama with Debbie, that’s all.”
ME: “I think she will understand that you were hurt because you felt, she, as your friend, wasn’t being supportive. Just let her think about it b/c that what it seems to boil down to. I don’t think you’re being unreasonable to think she would be there for you especially being as close as you are. I’d be hurt too.”
ANYA: “It’s ok. We’ll work it out. Thank u.”
After this exchange we had, I had some soul searching to do. If Anya didn’t even treat me like a trusted lover anymore, then what was the point? I felt more burden than confidant now. If she couldn’t allow me to save her. If she defended Jackson, the man who murdered her heart over the man who cared for it, then what was the point of me being in her life? I had to disappear for a while so I sent Anya a series of texts to let her know, I’m not needed in her life without letting her know it’s how I felt.
ME: “What do you think of me as a friend?”
ME: “True heartbreak is when the one you love doesn’t want to be with you. I think I need to embrace my true heartbreak. Everything I say just isn’t coming out right because my heart is still into us being together, but I think only one of us feels that way, and I feel that’s me. I want to be your friend but I have to be a good one and I’m not because I still want to be with you.”
ME: “I just feel you don’t trust me with anything and it doesn’t feel like I’m much of anything to you anymore.”
ME: “I just need to be a good friend and I can’t because my heart is still into us. I’m sorry.”
Anya had gotten enough mileage out of me and my love for her. She never planned to leave nor would she ever. All she wanted was someone to sound off on, some dope to listen to her so she didn’t have to bring it home to her kids and Jackson—to save her marriage. If the woman at the game wasn’t enough evidence for her to leave, on top of having me in her life, what was my purpose? What was my real purpose to begin with?
I believed she would come back with “I wanted to be with you”, but how could that be when she only “struggled” to stay? She fought back all her emotions of being with me for two years. While she asked me to fight for her, and I did that, she fought her own good conscience not to be with me—considering all the ways it couldn’t work out instead of any of the ways it could. She used words to describe our relationship as “extraordinary”, “real” and “we weren’t one of those things”, yet it felt like she only convinced herself of those things, never truly believing them. She called me “very special” and “one of a kind” but how could that be true if she chose to remain with Jackson? It even felt as if she did these things intentionally so I would pressure her, so she’d create a reason not to leave. And how was that loving someone? The reality was financial security, comfort, and what people would think of her if she left, were always more important to her than being with me. I didn’t know if that was fair to believe or say, but it’s what it felt like to me. I understood mothers made sacrifices for their children, and yes, I would never know a mother’s pain for her children. But, if we were to take away the financial security and the comfort her marriage afforded them all, I believed she would be with me. The first day she allowed me to believe what we shared was “extraordinary” and “real”, and “very special” and “one of a kind” is the day she should have left him, but the reality is she still didn’t know if she could ever leave. As much as she told me it’s not him versus me, it was—maybe not in her love for me versus him, but what he gave her kids versus what I couldn’t give.
I couldn’t sleep a wink that night, as without a friendship to fall on, I awaited her verdict; to do the thing I now began to believe she planned to eventually do all along; to leave me with a heart in pieces and a life in shambles.