Daniel and Sylvia (Part 3)

     Sylvia stood in the doorway of the bathroom inspecting the figure on the bed. The light filtering through the window gave his body an angelic quality. He had obviously reached for her after she slipped from the bed to use the bathroom, grabbing his shirt from the night before to wear. There was no need for modesty with Daniel; she wore his shirt to keep him close to her.

     She watched as he stirred, unconsciously sliding his hand over her side of the bed, still looking for her. The sheets were in tangles below his waist, revealing the upper part of his legs and butt.  Her eyes traced the muscles her fingers had navigated only a few hours ago.

     She had seen him naked many times before yet still couldn’t keep her body from reacting. She loved the thick waves of hair her fingers gravitated to every time they kissed. There were touches of gray peeking out and she teased him about it last night. His eyes, so at peace when he slept, sparked fires in her stomach when he caught her glance during the daylight hours. She swore he could see inside her, deep into the places she never allowed another to go.

Daniel and Sylvia (Part 2)

      The bank of six elevators lined the hallway just outside the entrance to Baroque’s. Three to the left, three to the right, like two teams faced off to play some mechanical blinking game. The panels on the last door to the left were beginning to shut and he dashed forward hoping he would make it in time. 

     As he threw his arm out to keep the doors from shutting all the way, a flurry of thoughts spun inside his head. He thought of how cliché he felt, running after the girl like in every chick-flick he'd been coerced into watching. When those predictive scenes came on he would wonder if it was really possible for two people to experience a love so strong they would actually run like a maniac down a city street. Now, he realized, he was one of those lovestruck fools.

     Even with all the thoughts and questions he had spinning in his head, the one he needed answered first was: What was she doing in his town?!

Ruby's Love Story

(This is an actual true-life story from about a year and a half ago. To this day, Ruby's commitment still emanates with me. It IS possible to find the love of your life and always be with them.)

     As I stood at the bus stop, impatiently waiting for the bus to arrive, I couldn’t help but notice the fluttering in my stomach. It’s an odd reaction for my body to have for a woman I barely know, yet here I stand hoping and praying she will be on the bus with an empty seat next to her. 

     

     Ruby and I met under unusual circumstances. Our relationship began a few weeks ago when she climbed onto the bus and, with no other seats available, I graciously gave up mine. Surprised by a chivalrous act in a day and age of un-chivalry, she appeared pleasantly shocked and thanked me before claiming my vacated seat.

     

     Last Tuesday, Ruby turned 83 years old. The first time I met her she was carrying two bags of groceries in plastic sacks I guess weighed more than she did. Her ebony skin carries a youthful glow which even through the creases of her years, give her a much younger demeanor. Always impeccably dressed, Ruby carries a certain nobility about her learned from the days of boarding schools and etiquette classes. She never slouches; her shoulders always back with a subtle respect always demanded in the most feminine of ways. This four foot-nine inch lady carries a sense of knowing her place in the world and she’s perfectly content with it.

     

     The second time I spent with Ruby was exactly a week later. This time when I got on the bus she was already there. Even though there were a number of other seats, we caught each other’s eye and with the recognition of the gesture from a week earlier floating between us. I asked her if it was ok to join her. She seemed rather tickled by my manners and said as much as I sat down.

     

What exactly is Romance?

     I posed this question the other day and was surprised by the stuttering and stammering which came back at me. While everyone seemed to have their idea of what a romantic gesture is, no one could pin down what Romance really means.

     Everyone wants their partner to be romantic on some level. Responses of romantic gestures people wanted from their partners included things as simple as opening a door for them to as complex as planning a romantic vacation and surprising them with it.  Coming up with things they wanted romantically was not a problem, getting them to answer why they wanted those things was a bit tougher. 

     It seems everyone claims to be a "hopeless romantic" but they are not sure why. Even I like to be on the receiving end of a romantic gesture. It may seem a little odd that a man actually wants to be romanced from time to time but it's true. It was during a moment of receiving such a gesture that I asked myself why it was so important to me.

"Soul-Needle"

6,873,800,306.

     At last count, that is how many people we have weaving through this haystack called earth.  If we subtract out the ones not living in the USA, we can cut the number down to 310,435,839.  Of course no matter our sexual preference, we’re only interested in one half of the population so let’s cut that in half to just over 155,000,000.  This is the pile of hay we are left with in which to find our “soul-needle.”

     Why "soul-needle"? Because it IS like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Let's admit it... finding the one we are meant to be with is no easy task. We've all felt rather silly looking back on a past relationship, remembering the time we thought: they are the one.

     I’ve lived many years looking for my elusive “Soul-Needle”. I've had everything from childhood crushes which escalated into Puppy-Love to a 15 year marriage which ended in divorce. I’ve dated, rebounded, and bounced a couple of times before finally landing at the feet of the woman I know is not just the person I am going to spend the rest of my life with, but is the reason I have one…my Soul-Needle.