He and She

******

She

It was beginning to turn into an obsession. A deep, dark, six foot seven, muscular obsession. He was all I could think about. He was all I wanted. He was who I thought of before going to sleep and he was the first thing I thought of in the morning. I dreamed of him. I desired him.

It all began at my best friend’s house. She and her husband had parties every Thursday night and invited their new neighbor over for a drink as he was walking his puppy down the sidewalk. When I showed up after a long day of work, I felt an instantaneous attraction which physically pulled me to him. He was not the most drop dead gorgeous man only seen on the big screen or on a magazine cover but he was damn close. He towered over my not so short five foot eight frame with a quiet calm of defined muscles and sophistication.

I had to force myself to greet all of the familiar faces in the crowd before heading in his direction. His strong hand gently grasped mine as he introduced himself. I felt the flirty charm start to bubble up inside of me but knew I had to keep myself in check. His deep voice flowed through my ears, educated and refined. As I looked up into his eyes, I knew I could stare into the depths of their endless hazel hues for a lifetime. Throughout the rest of the evening, I spent every minute trying to suppress my growing admiration. After all, my husband was standing right next to me.

*****

He

After moving closer to my parents, I felt more comfortable with them growing older. I knew that if something were to happen, I could be at their house in a matter of twenty minutes instead of two and a half hours. I could now pick them up and take them to church every Sunday morning and visit every Wednesday afternoon.

I found a great place on a quiet street not far from the freeway in a little town between my job at the university and my parent’s suburban home. It was a long drive to work but the administration recently set me up to teach some online classes for half of my scheduled curriculum. I would only hold lectures on campus two days a week and scheduled my office hours then as well. Those days were long but online classes at home made up for it.

I called to my new puppy and she came bounding over, excited that I was holding her leash. She circled my legs as I tried to clip it on and we made our way out the front door. My new neighbors seemed very friendly. If I walked by someone working in their yard, they would wave to me or if someone was walking their dog as well, they would say hi as our dogs sniffed each other. The guy across the street even started holding actual conversations with me. Mentioning that I was single, he told me that his daughter was as well and that he would introduce us the next time she came over to visit.

Walking around the block, I noticed a bunch of motorcycles in one of the driveways of a house on the main street of my development. I vaguely remember seeing them there last week as well. Motorcycle gangs and those types of people just were not my thing. Loud music and screeching wheels made me uncomfortable. As I walked past trying not to make eye contact, a guy about my stature yelled “Hey!” and waved to me. I waved back.

“Do you want a beer?” he said in a gruff voice.

Not wanting to start off on a bad foot with this guy I replied, “Sure.”

Walking up to his house, I saw a lot of rough looking people in Harley shirts and washed-out bandannas standing around the garage and sitting in folding chairs grouped together along about half the length of the driveway. There were a few people dressed more normal but they were vastly outnumbered. I decided to stay for one beer and make my acquaintance. As I sipped on my bottle, the guy walked me around and introduced me to the others. Although I would probably never see these people again, I shook hands and smiled at them. Every so often, another bike would roar up and he would introduce me to that person as well.

I was about to throw my empty bottle in the recycling bin when I glanced up at a new person walking up to the group. It looked like she was just coming home from work in actual professional clothes. Her fitted grey suit jacket cinched her waist just above her perfectly proportioned hips. Matching grey slacks tightly draped her legs, cutting off at the appropriate length of her short black heels. Her emerald green blouse made her eyes shine like precious stones. She walked around hugging most every person there as she made her way to the fridge to chill her wine. I had to know who she was.

As she grew near, I walked up to her and introduced myself. She extended her hand in welcome, seemingly excited to meet a new person. Her soft fingers felt so exquisite in mine. I felt myself relaxing as we started talking. She worked at the Institute of Art and was just getting home from her last class of the week. I told her that I taught history at the State University.

I grabbed another beer from the fridge as we chatted. It felt like there was nobody else in the world as I zoned in on what she was saying. Conversation flowed between us like a gentile spring breeze. Thinking that in a lull of our chatter and then mentally smacking myself for such a goofy, girly thought made me grin.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked.

“Nothing important,” I replied.

Looking at me suspiciously, she let it slide and started up a new topic of conversation. It was almost 11 at night by the time some guy came up from behind and tapped her shoulder. She turned to look at him and then turned back to me.

“It was so great to meet you. Hope to see you again soon!” she said giving me a hug. I breathed in the faint scent of vanilla mixed with woman as her hair tickled my nose, wanting to commit every ounce of her being to my memory.

As she leisurely pulled away, I caught a glimpse of the gigantic rock on her finger while she turned to leave with apparently her husband. Quickly, I finished my beer and told my host good bye. I must have looked like an idiot talking to a married woman all night like that! Why did I not glance at her finger before? That is rule number one in the single guy world. At least look at the finger! Whether you decide to act or not is your choice but at least check it out! I felt like an idiot.

Making my way back home, I decided to take my other neighbor up on the offer to meet his daughter. I must be getting desperate if my game is starting to slip like it did tonight.

*****

She

After a few times of seeing him, we began building a solid friendship. My cool calmness was under control but insanity was constantly lurking just beneath. We slowly learned more about each other. He was a history professor at the State University and had his PhD concentrating in 15th Century European Culture. I had my Master of Fine Arts with a concentration in Digital Art and taught at the prestigious Institute of Art downtown. He had a passion for travel that rivaled mine and we both enjoyed craft beers.

I could not decide if he had any interest in me or if the whole thing was just one sided. I was feeling the sparks but was he? I began looking forward to seeing him on Thursday nights. There were some weeks where we missed each other by an hour or so and that completely disappointed me. All week I would look forward to seeing him and was saddened by my missed opportunity.

I saw that he was now friends on Facebook with a couple of my friends so with a quick click of the mouse, sent him a friend request. If I would have thought about it for even more than an instant, I would have talked myself out of it. Within minutes, he accepted. I quickly went into his profile to check out his pictures. There were not many but I saw that he recently ran a charity marathon and had an extracurricular event with one of his classes.

The next day, we made plans to go out after work and grab a drink. My husband decided at the last minute to tag along as well. It was uncomfortable to say the least. I was my calm and relaxed self while my husband was his awkward self, bringing up embarrassing stories of our past. I sat there glancing sideways, trying to secretly disappear. When it was time to go, my husband announced what a great time he had while I just smiled and tried to escape. I think he felt the same way.

That night, my husband tried to cuddle up next to me. I could not stand the feeling of him. I pushed him away and rolled over onto my side, facing the wall. Even waking up later that night to the feel of his leg touching mine disgusted me. No touch could compare to what I could imagine igniting with just the graze of the other.

I did not talk to him for a while after that. I knew it was an uncomfortable experience for the both of us. It did make me start thinking though. I needed to decide what I was doing with my life. Was I ready to move on? Was I over my marriage? Was this just a passing crush? Was I making this into something more than what it really was?

*****

He

I could not get her out of my mind. Even when I went on a date with my neighbor’s daughter, I had to mentally stay on my game and not let my thoughts drift to wishing it was her across the dinner table instead. This girl was very nice. She attended church with her parents every weekend and volunteered at the dog shelter by her house.

She would cook for me and I would take her out to see a movie but I recognized that she was making more of an effort in this relationship than I was. I knew this was not fair and that I had to try harder but my heart just was not into it 100 percent. Maybe if I distance myself from my impossible thoughts, I could have an actual, physical relationship with this new woman.

Occasionally, I would make it to the neighbor’s Thursday party but would just stop in for a beer as I was passing by before she got there from work. Sometimes I got caught up in a conversation and would see her. Our conversations started up like I was just talking to her the day before. It was so hard to walk away from her. Each time we talked, I found myself being drawn to her even more.

One evening at dinner, my phone vibrated with an alert. She had sent me a Facebook friend request. I quickly accepted and put my phone away planning on devouring her profile later that evening after my girlfriend was gone. Not wanting to seem impatient, I casually chatted into the evening and gave her a kiss goodbye. After walking her to her car, I knew I had to end it; wishing I had just kissed someone else goodnight.

I stretched out in bed scrolling through her Facebook timeline. She had massive amounts of friends and posted tons of pictures from past vacations with her husband and family events throughout the years. Wanting to see her and not her husband, I covered his face with my thumb every time he showed up on my screen, imagining it was me there with her. This was crazy! What was I thinking? I completely powered down my phone not even wanting to think about what I had just done. I needed to forget about her and concentrate on my girlfriend. I just had to for my own sanity.

The next day, I turned my phone back on and saw a message from her asking if I wanted to meet up for drinks one night after work. I quickly agreed against my better judgement and we planned to meet up at a bar in town. I was overly excited to say the least. I was even about fifteen minutes late leaving the house because I could not decide what to wear. I was just going out for drinks with a married friend. Why was I putting so much effort into this?

As I was stopped at a light, I glanced down at my phone and noticed a message from her. Was she mad that I was late? I quickly clicked on it before the light turned green and saw that she said her husband decided to join. No doubt he thought there was something going on between us.

Nervously, I walked into the bar where they flagged me over. I sat down and ordered a beer. My conversation with her started as it always did, flowing with ease. Her husband occasionally chimed in but it was obvious that he was the third wheel in our conversation. He began to get more and more impatient as the next round arrived and started talking about their rocky past like it was something to brag about. I could physically see her feel more and more uncomfortable as he recounted tales of heartbreak she put him through in their early relationship and even made her tell parts of the stories like she was enjoying it as well.

I just wanted to leave. I think she did too but he just kept chatting away like he was having the best conversation of his life. I asked for my tab and her husband said to just put my drinks on theirs. She looked at me with apologetic eyes and gave me a quick hug when I stood to leave. He shook my hand and I walked away. This was just too much.

*****

She

I had to leave on a class trip for three weeks to escort a group of digital photography students in their study of Italian light. Our small group of twelve students and two faculty members would spend three days exploring Rome, a week in the Tuscan countryside and then the rest of the time in Olbia’s beautiful Costa Smeralda. I was glad to have some time away from my social life. It would give me a moment to think of what to do with everything that was happening.

We toured cities, photographing the historical buildings, fountains and sculptures. We drove around the farms and fields, experiencing the exquisite light streaming through the rolling clouds. We walked the beaches and splashed around in the crystal clear waters of the sea, emerging ourselves in the stunning coastline. The breathtaking scenery jumped through my camera lens at every angle as I tried to capture the stunning beauty into single frames.

I spent my days soaking in the fresh, crisp, fall air of the remote countryside and quiet beaches, assisting students with their angles and depths of perception. In the evenings, I would post updates of our adventures on the Art Institute’s blog, detailing the new perspectives on not just images but life in general. I posted pictures to the Photography Department’s Facebook page and also updated my own album with the spectacular shots. Throughout our journey, I imagined him by my side every step of the way from tossing euros into the Trevi Fountain to snorkeling in the chilly waters off the coast.

On the last day, our group walked through the historic part of town, lunching at a sidewalk café, sampling new flavors of gelato and stopping into little shops lining the street. There, I was introduced to a type of locally produced liquor called Mirto made from the flowers of myrtle. I purchased a few bottles knowing that I would probably never see this again in the States and headed back to my hotel to pack my bags for the long journey home.

On the flight, reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I was so immersed into my experience that I never gave a single thought of what to do about my situation. My heart ached for him; for me to just make a decision. I dozed off looking at the clouds floating over the ocean trying to plan my next move in this crazy game called life.

*****

He

She was gone for three whole weeks. I had never missed anyone so much in my life. I knew she was not mine to miss. I knew I had no right to have these feelings. Just knowing her house was ten minutes from mine seemed to be enough to calm my nerves every day but now, she was half way across the world. There was no wondering if I would casually bump into her at the grocery store or at the Thursday parties. My life seemed non-existent with her gone.

After work, I made it a habit of scrolling through her Facebook posts, imagining myself holding her hand as we strolled through the alleys of Rome or tossing her into the small blue waves rolling up onto the sea shore. Maybe she would even be in a cute bikini so more of her skin could touch more of mine. I had to stop. I just had to stop but I could not.

The weeks crawled by and I holed myself up in my house. I did not answer the phone when my girlfriend called and just erased her voicemails, not even caring to listen. The calls came less and less often until they just ceased. I guess she got my hint. It was a crappy way to end things but I just did not know what to say. ‘Sorry. I’m obsessed with a married woman?' What the hell was wrong with me!

I aimlessly went to my classes and was even more bored than my students while giving my lifeless lectures. Normally, I was well prepared and tried to make history fun, adding little antidotes here and there, trying to make the importance of historical records relative to the next generation. I quickly scanned essays and reports, not bothering to make notations on what was wrong or when they did well. A, D-, F, F, B+…

Stretched out on the couch, mindlessly watching television, I scrolled through my newsfeed and saw her check in at the Olbia airport. My heart soared out of my chest and the colors of the world returned to my vision. She was coming home! Would it be weird going to the airport? Should I stand by the baggage claim holding an empty suitcase and pretending I was just coming home from some exotic place too? What the hell is wrong with me? I seriously needed to stop. This was heading to a very bad place.

I made a decision to go to the Thursday party that week. I had to see her. I had to hold her in my arms even if only for brief hugs hello and good bye. I had to feel her presence by me.

The week dragged by and Thursday finally came. I dressed in a casual suit unbuttoning the top of my shirt so I could breathe. Why could I not breathe? I left my dog at home not wanting to pay attention to her jumping up on anyone. I wanted to be able to focus all of my attention on one soul in this universe. Peeking out of my window for what seemed like hours, I finally saw her car pull down the street and park in the line of cars and bikes on the road. Taking a few deep breaths, I walked out the front door and strolled over to the gathering.

Immediately, she approached me with a big hug. While having her in my arms, I let out a deep breath which I did not remember holding. The world melted away as she looked into my soul. Everything was perfect. Everything was how it should be at that very moment. I asked her every question I could think of about her journey even though I stalked her pictures and posts multiple times a day and already knew every step she took. The night flew by and far too soon, she was hugging me good night. I did not want the night to end. Should I ask her back to my place for another drink?

*****

She

I had a bottle of Mirto in my purse. Would he be there to share it with me? I pulled up to the house, disappointed that I did not see him. After I just finished my round of greetings, he sauntered up to the house in a pinstriped jacket and matching tailored pants that were loosely draped on his waist, supported by a shiny Gucci belt. What I would not give to rip the buttons off his pressed white shirt and push him down on the front lawn… What was I thinking! I could not help myself from giving him a hug which lasted a few beats too long. He was not letting go either. Did he miss me as much as I missed him?

We talked about my trip late into the evening. It was late. Too late. I needed to go home.

“Would you like to join me for another drink?”

“I shouldn’t,” I said. “I do have a bottle of Mirto with me though. Would you like to try some?”

“Sure. I have some glasses back at my place. Not really keen on tasting it from a red solo cup,” he laughed.

We walked together back to his place. Occasionally my shoulder would bump against his arm or his hand would brush across my hip. The air was cool across my burning skin. Was I really going to his house alone for a drink? What would my husband think? Did I even care?

He opened the door for me and walked over to his bar for a couple glasses while I opened the bottle of sweet liquor. Pouring it into the glasses, we clinked the crystal and sipped our drinks together. He pulled out the bar stool for me and I sat without breaking conversation.

As I was admiring the painting in the connected living room, he set his drink down and kissed me. I could taste the sugary liquor still on his lips. Without breaking our connection, I placed my glass next to his and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He grabbed me by my waist and lifted me up. My skirt hiked up as I wrapped my legs around his hips. He carried me gently over to the couch and laid me down.

*****

Something was touching my leg. What was that? Opening my eyes, I saw that I was in bed with my husband next to me; my dream quickly fading. I pushed him away, rolled over and went back to sleep.