The farmer’s market, Thursday, 2:31 p.m.: Staring at the tomatoes, so engrossed in my thoughts that I’m unaware of the beautiful stranger standing beside me. As I look up, he smiles. Unsure of his intentions, I rush away. Where I come from, people don’t smile at one another for no reason. Walking to my car, bags in hand, he catches up with me, lightly grabbing my arm. I begin planning my escape. The stranger senses my unease and at once releases me. Recapturing my breath, I cannot comprehend why I have a sudden feeling of sadness.
He apologizes – he didn’t mean to startle me. He offered his name, asks for mine; I begin to relax. A deep desire emerges…I need to know more about him. We sit and talk. Listening intently, the stranger’s story enraptures me. He lived most of his life as a rover, but recently decided to settle down in one place. He enjoys traveling and exploring multifarious cultures. As an only child, he learned to cope with loneliness.
As time passes, I become more enthralled. Through laughter and flirty smiles we exchange numbers, along with the promise of following up.
Sunday afternoon: He calls. I agree to meet him in his hotel room; this will be his final night in town. Though I have never conceived the idea of a one-night-stand, I answer with the first thought that comes to mind - yes. The call ends. Staring into the mirror, I wonder what the hell has gotten into me. Am I really willing to meet this stranger in his hotel room. Understanding that this is not a logical decision does not dissuade my decision.
Sunday evening: He kisses me before I have time to fully enter the room. Purse and keys falling to the floor, I let myself go…completely. We kiss for hours. He expresses no rush to make love to me, and I enjoy being savored.
Monday morning, 6:51a.m.: Roused by hands forming around my mid-section, I take a moment to delight in the smell of him. His scent is unlike anything I’ve experienced. He moves beneath the sheets – taking my concentration and inhibition with him.
Monday morning, 8:33a.m.: He kisses the back of my left hand before closing my car door. Standing on the curb watching me pull off, I can tell he would be a real gentleman in a relationship. Nevertheless, I’m wise enough to understand we’ll never have that type of commitment.
Four months later, Friday, 6:23p.m.: Work has finally slowed down after several weeks of non-stop meetings and projects. Though exhausting, I reveled in the work because it kept my mind off of him. Falling back, I rest my head just a moment before heading out.
In the process of shutting down my computer, I hear a soft ding. The temptation to ignore it churns, but I decide it’s better to deal with it now so I can have a chance of a restful weekend. Sighing as I sink back into my chair, I pull up my email.
What is this…I did not give him my work email. With disbelief I stare at the message: “I’m back in town…”