He showed me the photo. THE photo, the photo that started everything. April 1998. He said that's the VERY first day we met. "This is the first photo of our first meeting, the very first day. Then we got together the very same weekend." He continued down the memory lane for both of us. I don't remember anything because I couldn't understand why he kept that photo, why he found that photo, because after all, I did not remember anything at all. In the photo, we were both very happy, and as I looked back at him, he smiled, he laughed. I remembered that laugh, that beautiful smile. In his early days, he was very gorgeous, he would describe himself as "attractive." He liked women, and he had access to a lot of women. I think he generally dated down, as in he met and bedded women who were not as attractive as he, and many women would go crazy for him, like he was the best thing ever happened. I was not one of those women. I was flighty and less emotionally developed. It was only in the last four years, the fall of 2011 that when I remet him, we found each other, and perhaps for the first time, I was his equal. he was smitten by me, and I was equally smitten by him.
He gave me presents. They were beautiful. Fun pencils, sun in a jar, and Alessi necklace. The necklace looked like a piece of art. He always had good taste.
I stopped writing about our trips. I should not have. But I was afraid of writing anything down, for I already love him too much. It hurts. It never stopped hurting because I know the love I had held for him had never stopped, it grew over time and now it felt very permanent and less anxious.
I was very upset with him when he asked me to take down our photos, and I was upset because I wanted the world to know that we are together, perhaps unconsciously I simply want some level of acknowledgement, for I have never loved anyone else like this since I was 22. But then he denied me. I was to always remain in the shadows, so that I could never be known to the world that I had loved him. I thought that I'd let him go and move on but instead we grew closer. I told him that I couldn't do this seeing each other thing once a month, so we started seeing each other more frequently, and when we did not see each other, I asked him to call and he always called back.
Since September, I felt slightly more relaxed, and I don't believe that I would love anyone any more, and I don't believe that I could ever be loved like that, and neither one of could afford a change, I am finally okay.
The meetings we had were still infrequent, but I find that he started to talk to me more, about his partner, about his upcoming thanksgiving plan, and about everything else, like how he never wanted to change, and how was different and he did not want to be tied down, and now that he's a father, things have changed, and he still struggles with it.
When he was tired and sick, in the evening, he told me about his past, how he was an RA in the German house in Indiana University, how he had to go and sit in the shrink's office and listen to the girl who attempted suicide to talk about her fictitious life. How he became a father and everything had changed. How he still struggles with it and his relationship with work and being a parent, and how things have changed and now that he's older, and then when he woke up again in the middle of the night, he came closer to me and said to me, "I'm so lucky to have you."
"I love you." I'd say softly. He'd say, "What was that?" I would speak louder, and say, "I love you." And then he says "I love you too."
I lied in bed, and I listened to him talking and his mind wanders to so many places, he'd tell me that he's older but he is what is called a Puer Aeternus, and that he never thought he'd be a parent, and that now that he's older, he is less attractive and he did not have that same amount of energy anymore. He'd tell me that he's only seeing me, and I'd tell him that I think he still sees other women but he knew that it hurts me so he won't tell me that any more. I did not want to know, and I knew that in my silly mind, his love is the pure and complete and I could not tolerate the thought of him wanting to be another woman.
He would fuck me a number of times, and he says "I have never been turned on this much as I have with you." No matter how long it has been, he is still crazy about me, physically, and then there is something else about this now, it's like that we've been together for so long that I no longer remember a life without him.
He would tell me about our history, this time, and he retells our journey together, and my being with him and when I say, "Wow, you remember everything." He says, "I remember some things."
Perhaps it's from my writing, that he remembers and perhaps because I write to him so frequently and I write about our journey together so much that he now remembers.
Once he finished talking and getting tired, then he says, "we should sleep." I still have so many questions and I still want to ask a lot about him, and I remembered how I wanted to tell him, "I'd like to get to know you more," and yet, he seemed to have read my mind and he's started to tell me things about him.
I've known him for so long, yet I knew so little about him. After college, he told me that he went to work for Peters and Company, and had corporate apartment in D.C. Princeton and Boston. He went to MIT for grad school at age 24 and how he wished that he had delayed that journey and not gone to grad school until 5, 6 years later. He graduated from Sloan at age 26 and had been on the road for a long time by the time he finished grad school.
I recall our dinner just a few weeks ago, where he told me about his lives in Bergen, Norway, and then just a couple of weeks ago, when we had dinner in Philly, when I visited him in Philly, he told me about his living in Princeton. I started to piece his lives together. HOw could you have dated someone for four plus years and knew so little about them?
I think it's because I was so involved with him physically, that our interaction is so intense that we felt nothing about anything else and just isolated our lives to that moment that we were together.
I remembered as we started to talk, I began to realize how we much we were alike. We both make refrigerator pickles, we both like the same kind of herring and cod fish and fish oil, and how much we like the same kind of cheese and fish, and that we both had a thing for fermented things.
I would buy him herring from the Nordic House. I bought things from a German speciality store to bring to his mother, he said, "I'll bring it and tell her it's from you." I said, "who's 'you'? She's never met me. I don't even know if I'd ever meet her. I want to meet her but I don't think I'd have an opportunity. It's too real for me if that did happen. I know that I'd like her and I feel that perhaps she's a bit like me.
He would sometimes compare himself to my husband. And I know there are some similarities. But fundamentally I think we are very different people and my husband is very different from him. But I don't think he understands that my love for him is a very much driven by his desire of me. "The desire of the man is for the woman, but the desire of the woman is for the desire of the man." And the real reason I love him is that I know that he wants me. And he's the only person who has ever wanted me that much. And the fact that he wants me, is an indication of that he just wants to fuck me. He often tells me that "I love fucking you." It's a indicator then his love is real.
I recall being in Philly, and when we fucked, he kept on saying "I love you so much." I do believe that I had never felt this type of desire from any men before.
Since August his birthday dinner I did not see him for almost a month. During that month I wondered if he thought it over and wanted to change to keep me or if he just started to miss me. We went out a few times, including him visiting me in my own house. I don't remember of it, but it would have been several times. He had invited me over and we spent a few hours in bed where I told him that I wanted to see him more and when he did not see me, I wanted him to call. Then he came to see me at my own house just before my trip to Norway. we went to dinner after my trip to Bergen, I brought him presents from his old stumping group. Then we talked more. We then met in Philly, and he took me out for dinner again. When he returned he cancelled our meeting but then we met again. So I asked him to call to catch up and he did. He said that he wanted to talk to me too. One time he called me when I was out watching TV, and we just caught up. I think for him he needs to know that I don't want anything from him. While I know that I would like to have more, I have resorted to believe there is nothing he could give me and that permanent, profound sadness makes me less anxious. It makes me just be.
He tells me that he does not keep in touch with his ex'es any more, and that he is less of a jerk now that he's older. I told him that he's a nicer person now, and that the previous version of him, the playboy version of him, felt less substantial. He said that he was just dating. He liked women, and he dated them, and there was no implied commitment, and I told him that women in America are a bit more uptight and that they have sex and they think you should be exclusive. That was the difference. in many ways I don't feel that strongly about monogamy, I simply just wanted love and a relationship that makes me feel alive.
Once I understand him, that his perspective about women, and why he had a suite of relationships, and some sweet women perhaps got hurt along the way, I understand why I can love him and why he loves me. I think it's because I am not a jealous type and I love and understand him.
He says to me, when I asked why he has that photo, he says, "because one day we'd be together. It's the very first time we met." I wonder if history is made by accident. Here I was, in his photo, where he had kept, for 18 years. And we stayed friends. He always liked me. I had always thought that he was beyond my approach, and in middle age, we look like the perfect couple. We are good looking people now, and we look well suited. His shortcomings, his eclectic side, suits me as much as the normal side.
I stayed with him until the next morning. I didn't sleep well because he was sick. I think he might give me whatever he had and I was sick too. I did not care. I just wants to spend time with him. There has never been anyone who made me feel this way. I just want to take care of him. His desire for me, is what I desire the most of him. The rest pales in comparison.
I am not sure why I wrote down this. I have not re-read anything. The reason I stopped writing is that I want to forget.
I'm scared of all of this. He tells me that he came to visit me at my house. I gave him two German beers. And he met my puppy. We locked out the dog so we could cuddle. But that's not true. The puppy stayed with us as we made out. He called her sweetie. She liked him. Those things are the only things he remembered, and I have to try very hard to forget. I worry about remembering will make me love him more.
He lies next to me for some parts of the night. He embraced me and I lied next to him. I have no idea where this goes. I just know that it's been four years and more, and I still love him like the first day I met him.
And we now plan our summer vacation together, not because we did it intentionally. I just happen to be there when he's there.
And he asked me if I want to go to New Jersey with him. He wants to see me. He wants to be with me. He likes when I keep him company when he's away. I have no idea where this leads.
What do people do with the love story of their life time? Where do they go from here?
Women feel empowered by the desire that men funnel into them. Whereas a man just wants to satiate his carnal desires, a woman's femininity - and therefore, IDENTITY, especially in a patriarchal society - is determined by how intensely men covet her. She's not attracted to the man himself, per se, but to the fulfillment she gets knowing that the man wants her.
He gave me presents. They were beautiful. Fun pencils, sun in a jar, and Alessi necklace. The necklace looked like a piece of art. He always had good taste.
I stopped writing about our trips. I should not have. But I was afraid of writing anything down, for I already love him too much. It hurts. It never stopped hurting because I know the love I had held for him had never stopped, it grew over time and now it felt very permanent and less anxious.
I was very upset with him when he asked me to take down our photos, and I was upset because I wanted the world to know that we are together, perhaps unconsciously I simply want some level of acknowledgement, for I have never loved anyone else like this since I was 22. But then he denied me. I was to always remain in the shadows, so that I could never be known to the world that I had loved him. I thought that I'd let him go and move on but instead we grew closer. I told him that I couldn't do this seeing each other thing once a month, so we started seeing each other more frequently, and when we did not see each other, I asked him to call and he always called back.
Since September, I felt slightly more relaxed, and I don't believe that I would love anyone any more, and I don't believe that I could ever be loved like that, and neither one of could afford a change, I am finally okay.
The meetings we had were still infrequent, but I find that he started to talk to me more, about his partner, about his upcoming thanksgiving plan, and about everything else, like how he never wanted to change, and how was different and he did not want to be tied down, and now that he's a father, things have changed, and he still struggles with it.
When he was tired and sick, in the evening, he told me about his past, how he was an RA in the German house in Indiana University, how he had to go and sit in the shrink's office and listen to the girl who attempted suicide to talk about her fictitious life. How he became a father and everything had changed. How he still struggles with it and his relationship with work and being a parent, and how things have changed and now that he's older, and then when he woke up again in the middle of the night, he came closer to me and said to me, "I'm so lucky to have you."
"I love you." I'd say softly. He'd say, "What was that?" I would speak louder, and say, "I love you." And then he says "I love you too."
I lied in bed, and I listened to him talking and his mind wanders to so many places, he'd tell me that he's older but he is what is called a Puer Aeternus, and that he never thought he'd be a parent, and that now that he's older, he is less attractive and he did not have that same amount of energy anymore. He'd tell me that he's only seeing me, and I'd tell him that I think he still sees other women but he knew that it hurts me so he won't tell me that any more. I did not want to know, and I knew that in my silly mind, his love is the pure and complete and I could not tolerate the thought of him wanting to be another woman.
He would fuck me a number of times, and he says "I have never been turned on this much as I have with you." No matter how long it has been, he is still crazy about me, physically, and then there is something else about this now, it's like that we've been together for so long that I no longer remember a life without him.
He would tell me about our history, this time, and he retells our journey together, and my being with him and when I say, "Wow, you remember everything." He says, "I remember some things."
Perhaps it's from my writing, that he remembers and perhaps because I write to him so frequently and I write about our journey together so much that he now remembers.
Once he finished talking and getting tired, then he says, "we should sleep." I still have so many questions and I still want to ask a lot about him, and I remembered how I wanted to tell him, "I'd like to get to know you more," and yet, he seemed to have read my mind and he's started to tell me things about him.
I've known him for so long, yet I knew so little about him. After college, he told me that he went to work for Peters and Company, and had corporate apartment in D.C. Princeton and Boston. He went to MIT for grad school at age 24 and how he wished that he had delayed that journey and not gone to grad school until 5, 6 years later. He graduated from Sloan at age 26 and had been on the road for a long time by the time he finished grad school.
I recall our dinner just a few weeks ago, where he told me about his lives in Bergen, Norway, and then just a couple of weeks ago, when we had dinner in Philly, when I visited him in Philly, he told me about his living in Princeton. I started to piece his lives together. HOw could you have dated someone for four plus years and knew so little about them?
I think it's because I was so involved with him physically, that our interaction is so intense that we felt nothing about anything else and just isolated our lives to that moment that we were together.
I remembered as we started to talk, I began to realize how we much we were alike. We both make refrigerator pickles, we both like the same kind of herring and cod fish and fish oil, and how much we like the same kind of cheese and fish, and that we both had a thing for fermented things.
I would buy him herring from the Nordic House. I bought things from a German speciality store to bring to his mother, he said, "I'll bring it and tell her it's from you." I said, "who's 'you'? She's never met me. I don't even know if I'd ever meet her. I want to meet her but I don't think I'd have an opportunity. It's too real for me if that did happen. I know that I'd like her and I feel that perhaps she's a bit like me.
He would sometimes compare himself to my husband. And I know there are some similarities. But fundamentally I think we are very different people and my husband is very different from him. But I don't think he understands that my love for him is a very much driven by his desire of me. "The desire of the man is for the woman, but the desire of the woman is for the desire of the man." And the real reason I love him is that I know that he wants me. And he's the only person who has ever wanted me that much. And the fact that he wants me, is an indication of that he just wants to fuck me. He often tells me that "I love fucking you." It's a indicator then his love is real.
I recall being in Philly, and when we fucked, he kept on saying "I love you so much." I do believe that I had never felt this type of desire from any men before.
Since August his birthday dinner I did not see him for almost a month. During that month I wondered if he thought it over and wanted to change to keep me or if he just started to miss me. We went out a few times, including him visiting me in my own house. I don't remember of it, but it would have been several times. He had invited me over and we spent a few hours in bed where I told him that I wanted to see him more and when he did not see me, I wanted him to call. Then he came to see me at my own house just before my trip to Norway. we went to dinner after my trip to Bergen, I brought him presents from his old stumping group. Then we talked more. We then met in Philly, and he took me out for dinner again. When he returned he cancelled our meeting but then we met again. So I asked him to call to catch up and he did. He said that he wanted to talk to me too. One time he called me when I was out watching TV, and we just caught up. I think for him he needs to know that I don't want anything from him. While I know that I would like to have more, I have resorted to believe there is nothing he could give me and that permanent, profound sadness makes me less anxious. It makes me just be.
He tells me that he does not keep in touch with his ex'es any more, and that he is less of a jerk now that he's older. I told him that he's a nicer person now, and that the previous version of him, the playboy version of him, felt less substantial. He said that he was just dating. He liked women, and he dated them, and there was no implied commitment, and I told him that women in America are a bit more uptight and that they have sex and they think you should be exclusive. That was the difference. in many ways I don't feel that strongly about monogamy, I simply just wanted love and a relationship that makes me feel alive.
Once I understand him, that his perspective about women, and why he had a suite of relationships, and some sweet women perhaps got hurt along the way, I understand why I can love him and why he loves me. I think it's because I am not a jealous type and I love and understand him.
He says to me, when I asked why he has that photo, he says, "because one day we'd be together. It's the very first time we met." I wonder if history is made by accident. Here I was, in his photo, where he had kept, for 18 years. And we stayed friends. He always liked me. I had always thought that he was beyond my approach, and in middle age, we look like the perfect couple. We are good looking people now, and we look well suited. His shortcomings, his eclectic side, suits me as much as the normal side.
I stayed with him until the next morning. I didn't sleep well because he was sick. I think he might give me whatever he had and I was sick too. I did not care. I just wants to spend time with him. There has never been anyone who made me feel this way. I just want to take care of him. His desire for me, is what I desire the most of him. The rest pales in comparison.
I am not sure why I wrote down this. I have not re-read anything. The reason I stopped writing is that I want to forget.
I'm scared of all of this. He tells me that he came to visit me at my house. I gave him two German beers. And he met my puppy. We locked out the dog so we could cuddle. But that's not true. The puppy stayed with us as we made out. He called her sweetie. She liked him. Those things are the only things he remembered, and I have to try very hard to forget. I worry about remembering will make me love him more.
He lies next to me for some parts of the night. He embraced me and I lied next to him. I have no idea where this goes. I just know that it's been four years and more, and I still love him like the first day I met him.
And we now plan our summer vacation together, not because we did it intentionally. I just happen to be there when he's there.
And he asked me if I want to go to New Jersey with him. He wants to see me. He wants to be with me. He likes when I keep him company when he's away. I have no idea where this leads.
What do people do with the love story of their life time? Where do they go from here?
Anne-Louise-Germaine de Staël > Quotes > Quotable Quote
Women feel empowered by the desire that men funnel into them. Whereas a man just wants to satiate his carnal desires, a woman's femininity - and therefore, IDENTITY, especially in a patriarchal society - is determined by how intensely men covet her. She's not attracted to the man himself, per se, but to the fulfillment she gets knowing that the man wants her.
