Hi ‘A’

… you half-jokingly asked me to write about us. Specifically, recounting our time together last week with an emphasis on the ‘adventure,’ the sexual buildup and the mutual pleasure. But here’s a spin on the story I feel comfortable sharing.

We spent 2.5 months talking to each other. I feel confident saying that it had been a while since either of us met someone who we’d each consider ‘a match.’ Our discussions were invigorating—you showed deep emotional awareness and an impressive passion for your academic work. You may be among the most studied women I’ve met, either as many publications as me (we joked quantity vs quality).

I picked you up at the airport because you’re not from here. When you walked out of the airport, we locked eyes, and your smile was contagious. We hugged and remained entangled for several minutes. We held hands as we drove to the core where we had a reservation for brunch. I wanted to wait to kiss you but I got lost in you before we stepped out of my car.

You’re gorgeous. The type of beauty most men dream of. Waking up during a sunrise, to witness a naturally beautiful woman. You stood there with your beautiful hazel and green eyes, genuine smile and soft, shoulder-length hair. Petite in stature, yet big in presence.

You stayed with me. And, as two strangers would, faced some hardship in sharing my space. Two strong personalities finding ways to ‘walk toward each other,’ as I kept saying.

I felt warmth in watching you ‘dance’ through my kitchen, work at the counter during the days, and curl into me in the evenings.

Surprisingly, we struggled with communication. We qualified ‘chemistry’ vs. ‘compatibility.’ I was bothered by the lack of opportunity to express my perspective during your emotional expressions. “Fault in relationships lead to division,” I said. We kept working on it.

The sex—neither of us were prepared for it. You joked, “it’s going to take a while to be able to walk normally again.” Yet between the very passionate moments, were very challenging ones. I’ve never met someone who needed so much to get there, and of course I was committed. We both did things we’ve never done before. You were very vocal—very submissive. You let me turn you around and asked me to do anything I wanted to you. But what did you want?

That didn’t end in the bedroom. It was more than 7 years ago, the last time a woman stepped up and paid a bill (you were sly to go behind my back). I enjoyed covering our others too. You brought me gifts, and I gave you one.

I dropped you off at the airport. My eyes were wet, tears coming down yours.

The following week brought us some challenges. Intense weeks and unrealistic expectations. You didn’t communicate your concerns and ruminated. You approached me with an ultimatum.

We were planning on seeing each other again in a month—for my birthday. I hope the notes I hid in the book I gave you, aren’t accompanied by heartache.

As I had told you, “I don’t chase.” Healthy ‘relationships’ involve two people wanting to walk toward each other. Is this what we wanted?

With that, the story ends with two bruised hearts. “A” … you were the woman in the story I shared. The one in palliative care, and I was the man by her side. I’m sure the doc admired ‘what’ we had, assuming a lifetime spent together. But we had known each other for only a couple of months… but we’ve been through enough in life to recognize something beautiful in each other.