I love food and I love men. When I lack either I mix the two together in my head and write crazy stories about them. Food is comforting but if you eat too much you get fat and sloppy; men are great but if you pressure them too hard they'd turn into scared boys and run away from you. Hence the secret to treating food and men is to have them in moderation. Like anything else, you can't be too obsessive. Though having said that, I have never been strong enough to model my own philosophy. Perhaps you, the more intelligent web surfer and my consistent web page reader, can learn from it.
As always, the stories are largely fictionalized. Various sources provide me with the inspiration I need to complete these stories. For obvious reasons, these figures will remain nameless.
On a fine day
For a long while, inspiration seems to have escaped from me. It is as if one day I wake up and nothing seems to be the same anymore. I try to write, but nothing flows. I try to think, but nothing comes to my mind. My friend who has been carefully monitoring my web site asks me one night over the phone, “It has not been updated for a while now, right?” I tell him that he has not seen my secret site yet. Of course I am only joking. Honestly, I don't even know what has happened. One day, I just can't find the energy or desire to write any more. I still formulate tons of thoughts but they just go out of the window when I try to sit down and write something tangible. I wonder if I've lost it all together.
Then one day I realize that I've been trying too hard to avoid the past, that I simply don't want to acknowledge what was over two years ago is indeed over. I can't accept the fact that I was never loved by the man who I thought would be the love of my life. I can't accept the fact that I would probably always be somewhat tied to the East Coast, despite my desperate escape from the destiny. And then if that is the case, I should stop worrying all together - about love, about loving someone, about being loved. And I should start living and stop expecting.
But what do I really know? My emotions are made of valleys and peaks, and my feelings are forever changing their colors. If I could just grab hold of one moment of passion, and freeze that piece of memory, and let his image be forever carved into the shape of the heart, and let him provide me with the peace of mind, I would trade in every single possession that I've ever owned.
That day would indeed be a fine day.
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It was a chilly sunny autumn day. In a Georgian style rose garden cottage, slept a couple who had managed to meet after three months of separation. The girl was about twenty-seven, the guy was about thirty-five. They had met five years ago in Southern California in a jazz bar. She was on a business trip and so was he. He was working as a financial consultant for a Wall Street firm and she was working for an accounting firm in Seattle. The relationship took a life of its own and grew into an unknown shape. It started with no more than a friendship but as time went by they had started to pursue a romantic long distance relationship together. By then she had moved to San Francisco and he had finished his MBA in a well known Ivy League school and started his job on the Wall Street.
For the Labor Day weekend, the couple had decided to take a trip to Calistoga in Napa Valley. He had flown out from New York to meet her in San Francisco and they had driven into Napa Valley the same night. They had booked a rose garden cottage from a Bed and Breakfast place and stayed in bed for the most part of the first night. It was a secluded area behind a large two-story French style garden house. The man in this story was tall, dark and handsome, the woman in this story was petite, fair skinned and sensuous.
It was truly an Eve's garden. There were large rose trees surrounded the cottage and honey suckle tree branches covered half of the windows. About twenty yards outside of the garden was a fifty aces land of vineyard. The draperies in the cottage were of southern floral style, fresh cut pink and red roses were everywhere in this cottage. A king size bed in the middle of room.
At night the woman had decided to pick some fresh roses and slowly peeled each piece into a rose parlor, she carefully buried her lover with roses and then slowly picked each piece up via her mouth. In the morning when her lover was still sound asleep, she woke up and brewed the first cup of coffee. Outside of the door was a picnic basket filled with heated croissants, fresh picked blackberry jams and sliced mangos. She wore her white rope and picked up the breakfast basket. She woke him up with small kisses, The familiar Channel Coco perfume mixed with the blackberry jams, croissants and sweet roses, providing a strange exotic aroma. Her dark handsome lover grabbed her bottom, pushing her closer to him. He smiled, still with eyes closed. She picked a piece of croissant, dipped into the jam and fed her lover as he lay still in bed, with only his jar moving from chewing and his lips parted from the satisfaction of being pampered by his lover. The woman was surprised to see how much she enjoyed spoiling this man. She had long worked in the men's world, rarely did she have the chance to show the ultra feminine side. The long distance relationship had taken her by surprise at first, yet a year had passed and they had seemed to be able to be handling the separation well, at least from the surface.
Prior to starting this relationship, she had two other relationships which ended abruptly and painlessly. There were no chemistry, nor physical attraction. It was as if all her prior experiences had been more or less a preparation for meeting her true destiny. She lived a separate life when he wasn't around but when they were together she devoted herself completely to her lover as if he was the only man that ever existed in her life. Every time when they met, she was again convinced that they would work out every problem any couple would ever have to face, for he was equally enthusiastic about their relationship. When they were together, she had faith and she loved this man.
Outside of the cottage the owner of the house had been blasting some symphony music. Inside of the cottage the aroma of coffee mixed with everything else had filled the room with more flavors than the man could handle. He finally opened his eyes to meet his lover. She was fresh, her face was clean without any makeup's, her light colored long hair had tickled him a little, and he was surprised by how comfortable it was to be lying next to this woman.
“Baby, why are you so nice to me?” He had asked her.
“Because I adore you.” “I really adore you.” She had told him numerous times.
He never believed his luck. She was giving, tender and generous. She went great length to take care of him and rarely asked for anything for return. She simply gave all that she got and expected absolutely nothing from him. When he asked her why she was being so giving, she replied with the same sweet smile each time, “Baby I adore you.”
Still water runs deep. Words unsaid, it was simply understood between this couple.
“Desidero fare l' amore voi”, And with that he drew her closer…
The croissants in the basket never tasted sweeter.
II. New York City, three months later 1996
Three months later, in his mail he had received a wedding invitation. Two days later, a card had arrived. On the front cover of the card, there was a picture of a picnic basket and two croissants, inside of the card, there was her handwriting:
“Darling, I love you. Perhaps you never knew, for I've never told you. But love doesn't conquer everything. I regret that neither one of us took the initiative to discuss a future. I expected nothing from you other than your companionship. However, along the way, I found that I've fallen in love with you, more than I thought I did. But I also realized that we never talked about the future. Every couple of months we managed to meet, but the rest of the time we hardly talk. Maybe I'm getting too tired of the uncertainty ahead. Maybe I want the cake and eat it too, maybe I'm just too chicken to confront you. But I know that I can't live like this all my life. I don't want drama in my life, I want stability. And yes I want a family and kids and white picked fence just like all the other girls. I don't want you to hate me, I love you, but more importantly, I adore you and I respect you as a great friend. I don't ever want to lose that. Please don't hate me. Please be my friend.
My fiancée had moved here from the East Coast and we had decided to buy a house in Pacific Heights. You are right, I am a Bay Area kind of gal. Despite of all my dreams about one day living in Soho and be with you, I have a stronger urge to be married, to have kids and to stay close to my friends here in the West Coast. I guess reality did bite after all. I preserve our memories in the most unreal corner of my heart. I can never forget how I felt when I had you in my arms, I can never forget how much I adored you. You have no idea. And for that, I know that the only way to not cease my love to you, is to not pressure you for anything you are not ready. I know you are not ready for me in the ways that I was ready for you. Hence it's time to move on now…I will forever miss you. Love…”
He only read the note once and then he shuffled it into his drawer. He didn't make it to her wedding. Instead he sent her two hundred dollars as wedding present. In exchange he received a beautiful wedding picture of the couple. Her husband looked young, cheerful, and polished. She looked happy, innocent and forgetful. It was as if she had totally forgotten about the episode that once shocked her world and his too, and he had merely became a friend of hers who were no more than a good buddy in her world.
He went on a dating frenzy. Colleagues and friends from the Wall Street had hooked him up with many young, eager and beautiful women. He appeared to be happy and satisfied. Occasionally he would get a call from her. She had quit her job and started to help her husband to build his new business, they moved into their house on Fillmore Street, it was very Victorian. She said that they now had a dog, something she always wanted but couldn't have when she was working, and that they were busy planning a baby and perhaps a Caribbean vacation in the near future. She sounded happy. They never mentioned about the past.
There were times when she called he wanted to say something about the past but somehow she had made it clear that she did not want to know how he really felt, she simply wanted to forget about the past and re-establish a form of relationship, an odd friendship of some sort in his mind, yet he let her be. For a long time, he thought he was numb with his feelings, and he didn't want her to know what really went through his mind during the five years of long distance relationship. She got it all wrong. She never read his messages right. He was long ready for a committed relationship, he would have moved to California for her. But she seemed to be living a separate life, as he expected, and as it turned out, it wasn't too far from his speculation. So the only way that he could have a piece of her, was to be somewhat distant and somewhat remote. He didn't think he would have a real chance with her. He thought she never wanted him more than a loosely connected lover. There were nights during their relationships he had wanted to pick up the phone and call her, and he had wanted to tell her that he loved her and that he wanted a real relationship where the two could live together and grow old together. Yet he was afraid of her saying no and laughing at his face. She had the ability to make a man cry. She was so independent and tough - she talked about marriage as if it was a disease and she had mentioned to him that she didn't think she'd ever have a family. He was so afraid of losing her that he didn't have the guts to propose a future with her. He was afraid of losing her, and he still did lose her, but for the reason that he never expected.
III. New York City 1998
Two years had passed. One day he received a picture from her. It was her holding her first child. She was the most beautiful mother he'd ever seen. And he was disturbed somewhat. He had never wanted another woman to be the mother of his child. He was feeling an ache to his stomach. That same night he took his clients to a go-go dance bar, and on stage behind the smoky screen he thought he saw her again - but it was only a young woman who looked like her.
One spring Sunday morning, he was more alert than usual. He had been dating this voluptuous young twenty-year-old brunette who attended an Ivy League school during the day and danced in a go-go bar at night. She had ordered breakfast in. It was croissants and hot coffee in bed kind of morning. She was wearing a see through teddy and her young vibrant body smelled like roses. For a split second he thought it was her in the reflection, and all those memories which he thought had been buried deep flashed back. When his girlfriend went to take a shower, he turned on the CD and played loud symphony music. And for the first time he cried. His tears came from no where, his heart was aching and his head was pounding. He never realized how much he loved her back, and all he really wanted, more than anything in this world, was to have her back into his life again.
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