The First Kiss

You only get this once with each person you kiss. That first kiss is so important. You either make or break it.

Steve had loved me since high school. He always looked at me adoringly. He was always there to steady me, to pick something up if I dropped it, to keep me focused in the classroom when my wandering thoughts drifted off to dreamy places.

But there was another. There was only one guy I saw when I closed my eyes at night. And it just happened to be a guy who did not care about me at all. And so my four years of high school came and went. And I ran home from graduation ceremonies, flung myself across my bed in my embroidered silk gown and cried tears of absolute despair, achieving a beautiful, numb state of delirium. It felt like the end of my life. It might as well have been. I wouldn't see my love again.

Okay, so not my love, but the guy I wanted so badly for my own.

I drove up to college in the mountains; not too far from home, but far enough away to avoid reminders of what could never be. Steve remained a constant in my life. He was always there. Not too much so, as I always kept him right where I wanted him - there if I needed a crutch - in the background if I needed to dream about my ridiculous high school crush.

After one year of wasting my parents' money and music scholarship money partying from 2 AM to whenever I passed out, with boys who cared nothing for my academia or well being, I was pulled from the wreckage by my own personal "Jaws of Life" - my parents.

And so I returned home and faced the inevitable - further captivity, different institution.

In a desperate attempt to escape the nightmare of working toward a goal that was not my own, I recklessly surrendered my soul to the first bidder.

And suffered the wretched consequences.

I was single again.

The years passed and I reluctantly trudged off to singles dance after singles dance, bestowing my agency upon yet another. My friend at the time; my one friend who I clung to so desperately for life support became my puppet master. I stood off to the side when she told me to, I obediently contorted my body to create the illusion of acceptable dance moves when she commanded me to, and I accepted dance invitations at her nod of approval.

It was during one such episode of convulsing to an overplayed 80s tune by The Cure that I saw him. It was as if the crowd parted and there he stood in all his glory. A warmth. A comfortable memory from my past. A light in my gloomy existence. And for a brief moment time stood still. His eyes widened in surprise. His mouth curled up at the edges. A slow, weary smile spread across my haggard face. My shoulders slumped in relief. He reached his hands out to me. I reached my hands out to him.

"Kristin", he called out.

"Steve", I replied.

"You look great!" He exclaimed. "How are you?"

"I'm good", I sighed. "How are you?" I could feel the overwhelming emotion building inside of me. My tear ducts burning, in preparation for the tears of joy about to spew forth.

"NOPE! Not gonna' happen!" I felt a pinch on my right arm. I snapped out of my dream and shot my glance toward the perpetrator. My friend spun me around instantly, my head spinning ahead of me. I lost my balance and began to stumble. I felt the cold, hard knuckles pushing me through the sea of chaos. "Let's get out of here NOW" she spit in disgust.

"But", I attempted to fight back, my mind weakened by its year-long voluntary catatonic state.

"No. Absolutely not. I forbid it", came the reply from my self-appointed master.

I glanced over my shoulder and caught a glimpse of Steve, the freshly spattered hurt dousing the glow of his face. My heart ached. The electrical impulse sent a shock wave to my brain and I instantly awakened from the fog. I had to escape this self-induced captivity.

And so eventually I did break the bonds.

A few months passed and I decided to celebrate my newly acquired freedom by going out on the town. I stopped by a bank ATM, turned my car off and ran up to the machine. My money shot out, I grabbed it, spun around and walked briskly back to my car, stuffing my money into my wallet, not watching my step. I misjudged the step down onto the asphalt and stumbled forward. But my fall was abruptly halted by a pair of firm hands. I gasped and slowly followed the button of the polo shirt up along the neck of its inhabitant, and eventually into the eyes of my rescuer.

There were no words. I gazed into his eyes, awestruck. They twinkled as he smiled.

"Hey there."The soft spoken words enveloped me like a cozy blanket.

"Steve", I sighed. "Hi".

"Hey", he whispered back. "You okay?"

"Uh huh", I managed, in a daze.

I noticed the lines of his lips slowly turning upward. I mimicked his response and gazed into his eyes again, this time taking note of the very visible scars from wounds I had personally inflicted. They dulled the twinkle of his eyes. I pulled away and straightened up, clearing my throat.

"Well it's good to see you", I wearily replied, continuing to slowly back away. I didn't deserve him. I had hurt him. He had always been there for me and I had spit upon it and kicked it around.

The smile slowly faded from Steve's face. "All right. Well, good to see you too."

I cast my eyes to the ground and scurried to my car.

"Kristin", I heard Steve call out to me. I hesitated, then looked up to see him walking toward my car.

"Hey", I sighed.

"Hey" he responded and then hesitated. We gazed into each others eyes, the pain now evident in both pairs. "So, I was wondering if I could....call you sometime".

I gasped, not realizing I had been holding my breath in anticipation, clinging to every word. I sighed in relief and laughed nervously. "Of course", I replied with a weary smile, studying his eyes. He smiled in response, the glow returning to his face. My heart burned and I shuddered in the cold.

"It's cold", Steve chuckled. "I should let you go so you can get warm".

"Yeah. Okay", I replied, returning to my state of blissful delirium.

The next night he called. My heart beating wildly in my chest as I read his name across the caller ID. Steve took me out the next night for dinner and a movie.

And then came that moment. That moment you face at the end of every first date. The moment mostly dreaded. But in this instant, it was welcomed. He gently took my cold hand in his. The warmth touched my palm, seeped in through my skin, and shot up through my veins into my heart, setting the beat off at a furious pace. I tried to mask my body's responses, but failed miserably. He didn't seem to take notice. I felt the gentle squeeze of his warm hand enveloping mine, his thumb caressing the dorsal side. I bit my lip and looked away, embarrassed by my reaction. My panting became more evident now, my heart burning hotter.

We reached my doorstep and we turned to face each other, smiling, and occasionally laughing nervously. I looked away.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing", I responded, my face burning. I could feel my palms beginning to sweat. I glanced into his eyes and then immediately toward the ground, like a young girl on her first date, anticipating that first kiss. But this was my first kiss - with Steve.

I felt his forehead touch against mine and listened as our nervous laughter swirled about our heads. My breathing was shallow and ragged. His nose touched against the side of mine. I could feel his warm, sweet breath on my face. I closed my eyes and drew in a long breath, sucking the cold night air into my throat and then my lungs. And then came the burn. His soft, full lips so hot against my cold. Our lips held their position a moment and then closed in on each other. My heart burned so hot, I thought it would burst.

His warm, strong hands began to caress my neck. I followed his lead, grabbing at his neck, holding him captive. I never wanted this moment to end.

But eventually our lips needed a break and so he pulled me in closer, wrapping his arms around me, as I nuzzled my face into his warm neck and sighed in contentment. I gently pulled away just enough to look up into his eyes. He responded by kissing the top of my forehead and nuzzling his nose against it.

"You wanna' come in?" I invited, hopeful.

I could feel him drawing in a long deep breath and holding it, most likely contemplating his answer. He eventually blew it out in a long sigh and squeezed me tighter. "I shouldn't", he whispered in reply.

I swallowed the disappointment down and pursed my lips together in a grimace. "Okay", I said, nodding.

"Thank you for tonight", he said, gazing lovingly into my eyes. I sighed and grimaced, gazing immediately upon the ground again, as I felt the burn returning to my cheeks.

And so he squeezed me one last time and said goodnight.

But the relationship borne of this event came to a screeching halt when Steve had to take work out of town for several months and my immature, undeserving soul eventually latched onto another, once again rejecting his offer of love like a spoiled, unappreciative little brat.

I don't know what ever became of him. His first and last name happen to be in the Top Ten List of Most Common Names in the United States. Any searches for him later on in my single life proved futile. I can only hope he found someone deserving and accepting of the gift he had to offer.

Revenge Gone Wrong

The emerald in my hand was brilliant. The diamonds encircling were the perfect touch. It was a delicate bracelet and I wanted it. But could I rationalize the price? I began to work it out in my head. "I've been through a lot", I attempted to convince myself with my thoughts. "I work hard. I deserve something nice."

I suddenly became aware of a presence next to me. In my peripheral vision I could see him edging in closer, a bit apprehensive. I had noticed him earlier in the evening from across the room. His face was familiar. I had seen him at a party in the past; one I had attended with my current boyfriend. He had saved me from a touchy-feely rambler after my self-absorbed boyfriend had disappeared and I remembered I had been very grateful and somewhat charmed by him at the time. However, I had a boyfriend and so thought nothing more of it.

"So, are you as upset as I am about your boyfriend and my girlfriend taking off together for a week-long road trip?" I heard the soft, smooth voice echoing in the back of my head. Gradually the words registered into my consciousness and snapped me out of my partial dream-like state. I no longer noticed the bracelet in my hand. I saw beyond it. I wrinkled my forehead in confusion and jerked my head in his direction, our faces only a few inches apart.

"Huh?" I sharply retorted.

He smiled out of the side of his mouth, a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, don't tell me you don't know about it". He began to chuckle softly to himself.

I straightened up. "I guess I don't", I replied, gingerly placing the bracelet back on its stand. "How can you possibly know this?" I asked, doubtful, as I shifted my stance to face him. I felt a sick, swirly feeling slowly building in the pit of my stomach.

He grinned and leaned in closer, half whispering at me, "I ran into your boyfriend's roommate yesterday. He told me he saw them taking off together in your boyfriend's truck with his custom Harley loaded in the back."

The sickly feeling in the pit of my stomach shot straight up into my throat. My jaw dropped, eyes widening in horror and agony all at once. We stared at each other for several seconds in complete silence. "Wha..." I finally mouthed the words, but there was no voice to support it.

"Unbelievable, huh?" He chuckled again and straightened himself up. I mirrored his actions and followed him across the room to a more private corner of the party. I felt lost in a fog. I couldn't quite wrap my mind around what he had just told me. And why wasn't he upset? He seemed so candid, even laughing sometimes.

I knew my boyfriend was off to a Harley convention out of state. I couldn't attend. He knew this full well when he had asked me to come along the week before, yet he asked me anyway - probably to squander any thought of suspicion on my part. "How crafty of him", I thought to myself. My knees nearly gave out on me. I gathered up every bit of energy I had just to walk.

My informant had positioned himself in a small wooden chair in a corner of the room now. I gazed upon him as I approached, my wildly kinetic thoughts slightly dizzying my head. I sat down hard in the chair across from him. There was a small table between us and I made good use of it, planting both elbows squarely in the center and leaning in closer. "Okay, so my first question is 'what are you doing here'?" I queried in complete bewilderment. Had he come to this party simply to seek me out and shock me with the bad news?

"Denise is a good friend of mine", he casually replied, referring to the party hostess.

I stared at him blankly for a few seconds and then drew in a quick breath, held it for a moment, and explained, "This is a chick party. There's like purses and jewelry and....all kinds of stuff here for women. Nothing for men. NOTHING", I said, flailing my arms about, presenting my case for the obvious side.

He winked at me and leaned in, very smoothly replying, "Well, you never know when I might have a cute girlfriend again. Wouldn't hurt to pick up a little something for the future".

My jaw dropped in disgust, my eyes rolling back into my head. I scoffed and sat back in my seat, "Smooth".

He chuckled, seemingly pleased with himself. I was not impressed.

So, why I invited him over to my place later is beyond me. I think I was still completely in shock from the news flash earlier that evening. At his suggestion, I gave him my phone number and agreed to "get a little revenge of my own". I wasn't sure exactly what he had in mind, but I received a very shocking self-revelation in that moment - I simply didn't care.

I had known for a couple of weeks now that my relationship with my current boyfriend was heading southward, but I never imagined he'd take the liberty of moving on with his life, leaving me to discover it in the tabloids like some cheap Hollywood fling.

Enrique arrived on my doorstep later that evening. He was Latin. I have a thing for Latin men. There are very few of that race I'm not attracted to. I have always envied their skin tone. Perhaps that was my downfall.

I'll spare you the boring details of our rambunctious evening. Let's just say, there was a mutual attraction, the hour was late, the minds were fuzzy, and somehow in the midst of the sparse conversation, the overly amorous kissing and the ambient music, we agreed it would be a good idea to seriously date each other. The thought of surprising our cheating significant others with our own little secret hook-up seemed funny to us in our somewhat incoherent state.

But this relationship was doomed from the beginning. We quickly became bored with each other. We didn't have enough in common. Besides that, Enrique harbored an insecurity...

During one of our yawn-worthy make out sessions one night, he pulled away from me and revealed what he thought was a secret. He had a glass eye. I didn't know if I should laugh or be insulted. It was blatantly obvious. However, it never phased me. I still found him very attractive. I decided to make light of it.

"Well, I have a fake leg", I replied nonchalantly.

"You do?" He exclaimed in complete surprise and immediately began running his hands up and down my legs, desperately trying to uncover the evidence.

I laughed out loud. "I'm just kidding. I already knew your eye was fake. It doesn't matter. You're still hot."

But alas, despite our lustful attraction, the relationship fizzled.

The End

What's that? You wanna' know how we dealt with our significant others upon their return? Well, I don't know the details of Enrique's encounter with his girlfriend, but I can tell you that my boyfriend had the audacity to simply not call again. And after one full week I called him up and proceeded to scream at him.

Then I hung up.

Then he called me back a few hours later and apologized profusely as I bawled and yelled into the phone.

And then I hung up again.

And that was it.

THE END!

The Burning Question

Singles social events. Are you cringing yet?

The door bell rang. I was decked out. There was a dance and I needed to attract a new crop of men. I was accompanied to the dance by my good friend, Nona, and two beautiful Latin men. But there was an understanding between us - these men were off limits. They were simply the bait.

The dance hall was dimly lit, crowded, warm, with those old familiar 80s tunes invading my brain and increasing the level of anxiety to borderline panic attack as I instantly reminisced about those dances from yesteryear - you know, the awkward years. I was sickened. But my body language told a different story. I casually sauntered about the dance hall within the protective shield of my people. It appeared as though I hadn't a care in the world.

And that's what caught his attention.

He stood out in the sea of awkward fish, towering at least a foot over them all. I spared a quick glance and playfully glided past. One of my own grabbed my hand and twirled me around. I squealed in surprise and giggled, the big fish attempting to discretely move in for a closer look. Despite my awkwardness (I was kicked out of P.E. in 8th grade for being "retarded"), when a man led me on the dance floor, I managed to flow with him every time. The bait dangled me out into the crowd a little and as he reeled me in, the big fish followed, no longer able to contain himself. My partner was tapped on the shoulder and I suddenly found myself in the arms of a new partner.

"Well hello", I teased. "And you are?"

Chuckling he called out, "Randy".

"All righty then, Randy", I called back, offering a half smile and raising an eyebrow in playful reproach.

He successfully dominated me the entire evening and our conversation carried on dance after dance. I conducted the usual interrogation.

And then came the burning question:

"So, how old are you?" I asked, looking him directly in the eyes, demanding an answer.

"I can't tell you", he teased.

"Really?" I replied, releasing my hold and stepping back to examine him. "Why not?"

"Because", he teased again. "You have to go on three dates with me to get that answer".

My shoulders slumped and I furrowed my brow. "What?" I spit out in disgust.

"Come on. It'll be fun", he ventured.

I placed my hands on my hips and tapped my foot, scrunching up my face. "Are you asking me on a date?"

"I am", he replied with a chuckle.

"Hmm", I held my stance, looking him up and down as though inspecting merchandise. "All right. Let me give you my number then".

And the night ended. And he drove off, leaving me completely intrigued.

Within a few days, my phone rang and it was Randy asking me out. I agreed.

Date #1: Dinner at a nice restaurant, decent conversation, his house.

He led me quickly into his net and I swam along willingly. Randy left only the light by the front door on, entering another room and plopping himself on the couch in the dark. I stopped abruptly, standing exactly on the line that separated the light from the dark.

I could hear the dampened thuds as Randy slapped the cushion next to him and called out from the black, "Come over here, cutie."

I breathed in and held it. Placing my hands on my hips, I released the air into a sigh. "Well, you don't waste any time, do you?"

I could hear his soft chuckling in response.

"Is this part of the routine?" I queried, standing my ground.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean, are you expecting certain things out of me besides three dates before you give up the answer to my burning question?" I leaned against the wall.

"Absolutely", he replied without a beat of hesitation.

I quickly reached my hand up, scratching out an irritating itch on my head and sighed again. "Well, okay then", I pretended to be annoyed. I cautiously ventured into the dark, feeling my way across the room, ready to relinquish my care to a man I barely knew.

I plopped down next to him, very unladylike, and sat there very still, completely silent. I felt his cool fingers caressing the side of my cheek then.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, chuckling again, seemingly uncomfortable with my unwillingness to throw myself at him completely. I had a feeling this guy didn't experience much rejection.

I heaved a quick sigh. "I'm thinking I'm gonna' have to make out with you a bit, so here I am".

His fingers ceased to move on my face, the room remaining silent. Still. Tense. I breathed in quiet, shallow breaths, my chest tightening. Then I felt it - his warm breath on my cheek. And the make out session was officially...in session.

After a few minutes I broke away and jumped up off my seat. "Okay", I said very matter-of-factly. "You got your kiss. Now take me home. I'm tired. It's late."

Fits of laughter rolled through the air and I felt a thud as Randy hit the floor. I stepped back in surprise and squinted in the dark. "Randy?" I called out. "What are you doing?"

The laughing fit continued. I felt my way across the room, moving toward the light, and batted at the wall in search of a switch.

*Click* The light came on and there was Randy rolling on the floor. "You kill me", he managed in a breathless voice. When he finally composed himself, he drove me home, fighting back another fit.

Date #2: Dinner at a nice restaurant, decent conversation, his house.

"Wow", I exclaimed as he pulled into the drive.

"What?" he answered, a puzzled look on his face.

"Running out of ideas already?" I teased, raising an eyebrow and eying him in mock disapproval.

He chuckled and reached his hand over, caressing my shoulder. "Yeah. I guess so. Is this okay?" he asked, a look of concern washing over his face.

"I'm fine", I stated blankly. "Whatever it takes to get my answer".

"Aw, come on. Can't we get past that for a moment? Let's just have fun", he pleaded.

"Fun? What's your idea of fun? Making out with a young lady night after night, leading her further into your trap, adamantly refusing to state your age? What am I supposed to tell my family and friends if this becomes serious and they start asking about you? Are you even going to give me my answer after date number three?" I spit the questions out, one after the other, denying him the chance to respond.

And his lips became sealed. He refused to respond. He sat back against his seat, closed his eyes, drew in a long, deep breath and heaved a sigh. I turned abruptly in my seat, situating myself for the show, and watched him in wonder. After a few moments, he opened his eyes, staring at the roof of his truck. I remained still, contorting my mouth, attempting to hold back a smirk. I watched the Adams apple bob wildly up and down in his throat as he swallowed hard again and again, his jaw tight. He continued to stare directly overhead, frozen. And being the stubborn little bitty that I am, I held my position and waited.

After what felt like an eternity (I would never let him know that. He can't win), he sighed again and turned his head slightly, staring directly into my eyes. "Are you going to be difficult or are we going to have fun?"

"Oooohhhh", I responded - switching gears to fighting mode.

"Nah. I'm just teasin' ya'", he chuckled and slapped his hand playfully at my arm. "Come on. Let's go in." He jumped out of his truck and jogged around to my side as I sat there, maintaining my pose, frozen like a statue, my forehead creasing in disbelief. "Come on", he called out playfully, poking my ribs, causing me to squeal and jump out backwards into his arms.

"Hey there", he half whispered into my ear, his warm breath tickling my ear. I shuddered with a chill.

And so the second date followed in the footsteps of the first.

Date #3: The Big Reveal. Dinner...

We ate at, once again, an expensive restaurant. And the conversation went a little something like this:

Me: So, when do I get my answer? Is it tonight or do I have to wait until the morning after?

Him: You're still on that?

Me: Um. Yeah. You're the one who made up the whole three date rule, so I'm just following along. You better not let me down.

Him: What if I don't answer your question after three dates?

I suddenly felt an angry knot build in my stomach. I was instantly infuriated with this response. And it became quite clear to me at that moment that I cared NOTHING for Randy. I simply just had to know how old this guy was. That's it. That's all I cared about. My curiousity was killing me at this point and because I cared nothing for him, it took every ounce of my self control to not completely blow up at him.

Me: (sighing) Don't make this all a waste of my time.

Him: A waste of your time? Have you not enjoyed spending time with me?

Me: I have. But this is really becoming ridiculous now. I mean, seriously. What's the big deal? How old are you? I've never been in a more absurd situation and I've had a lot of wild dating experiences.

Him: Well...you're just gonna' have to eat your meal and...

Me: (Cutting in) I mean, seriously - what are you? Like 40? (I was 29 at the time).

Him: 40? (He sounded surprised and slightly offended).

Me: Okay, sorry. 35?

He just laughed in response. And I began to heave heavier, more frustrated sighs.

Him: Your food looks good. Do you like it?

Me: You know what? I don't even have an appetite. This has just become stupid. Really. I'm not gonna' run out of here screaming if you tell me how old you are. I've dated a guy who was 16 years older than me. Age doesn't matter.

Him: Oh. Age doesn't matter, huh?

I instantly regretted my last statement. I knew he'd use it against me for life.

Me: Yeah. It doesn't matter. So just tell me.

Him: Well, if it doesn't matter, then you shouldn't need to know.

Me: Well, it does matter because if we were to continue dating and people asked me about the guy I was dating, I wouldn't be able to tell them much.

Him: Oh please. All you DON'T know is my age.

Me: What are you? Some kind of vampire? Is that it? Are you like 50 billion years old and you're afraid your secret will be out?

He began to laugh out loud, drawing the attention of other restaurant patrons even more so than our banter had.

Him: No. That's not it.

Me: Just lie to me then. Just tell me an age so I can shut up and get on with my life.

Him: You just want to know my age so you can go date other guys now.

Me: You know what? You're right. Get the check. I'm done with this.

I sat back in my seat in a huff, folding my arms across my chest and scowling at him the rest of the time.

Finally the meal was paid for and Randy offered his arm as we left the restaurant, which I very coldly refused, brushing past him and storming out. We drove in silence. We pulled in his driveway and I immediately exited his truck, tromping off to my car, keys in hand.

"Kristin! Wait", he called out. "Where are you going?"

"Home!" I shouted at him, completely enraged.

"Wait! Don't go! Please!" He begged.

"What do you want from me? Huh?" I shouted back.

"I just want to spend time with you. Get to know you better", he replied softly.

My jaw dropped, my hand finding its instinctive position on my hip. "Are you kidding me?" I hissed.

"Hey", he called out cheerily. "Wait up. One sec." He disappeared into his garage and came jogging back out holding a basketball. "Wanna' play?" he offered.

"Are you kidding me? Are you KIDDING ME? No, I do NOT want to play basketball. I want you to tell me your age and that's it. That's all I want and then I'm gone. You blew it. This was a stupid idea. You should never try it again if you actually want to have a chance with a woman. Seriously!"

He bounced the ball in place, staring up at the basket. "I bet I could make this shot", he called out playfully.

I growled and jumped into my car, squealing out of his street.

A few days later, there was a five-page letter on my doorstep with an entire case of Special K cereal. I crinkled my nose at it. I had a hunch about where this came from and I was not pleased. Sure enough. It was Randy, expressing his apologies for upsetting me, asking for another chance, and offering the cereal (something I had mentioned I wanted to try - the Special K diet) as a peace offering.

I tossed the letter, ate the cereal and moved on with my life.

*Six months after I was married he called me one day out of the blue. My husband brought the phone to me, stating it was an "old friend" calling. I answered. It was Randy. I told him I was married and expecting a baby and asked him what he wanted. He congratulated me, exclaimed that my marriage and pregnancy were a complete surprise to him and then he actually admitted that he was calling to see if I had cooled off yet and if I would be willing to give it another shot with him. HA!

To this day I do not know how old that guy is. I even went so far as to ask around. Nobody seems to know. And you better believe I gave it one more shot during that surprise conversation, but he held his ground. And I hung up on him.

My Other Side

Suspicion is a poison that seeps in through your skin and churns through your vessels 'til it reaches your brain and you become that person you've always feared.

I met Aaron on-line. A dating website. He was cute and fun and...you know the routine with me. We casually dated a while until one night on the town he kissed my cheek as I gazed upon the chemically altered retro nomads dancing about with fire, and eventually whispered in my ear, "I want you for myself."

I snapped out of my daze, slowly moved my attention upon him and searched his eyes, questioning the sincerity of his statement.

"I'm serious," he replied as if reading my mind.

And thus began our serious relationship. But my past experiences haunted me still and, two months into it, when Aaron seemed unavailable for days on end, even just to talk on the phone, I began to wonder.

"I'm just gonna' check one thing", I spoke aloud to myself one night, late, at my computer. I returned to the website where I had first found him and searched as a "visitor".

And there he was. Listed as single and available. I clenched my teeth and heaved a sigh, shaking my head in disappointment...but not so much disbelief. Perhaps my suspicion wasn't so off-base this time. I sat in a daze, staring out my window at the blackened sky. What now? "Maybe I'm wrong", the excuses began to roll in on his behalf. "Before I confront him, I'm going to try a little experiment to prove my theory", I thought aloud.

I instantly set to work, creating a new profile. But this time I wasn't 5' 4", blond-haired, green-eyed, etc.

This time I was 5' 6", slender build, red-haired, blue-eyed, and my name was Natalia. I didn't even waste time with any more superficial descriptions or a silly little intro to "catch his attention". I had a feeling I wouldn't even need that much bait for this little experiment.

Clicking on search, I typed in the screen name I had found him under and studied the profile one more time. "You're gonna' be sorry if you're cheating, my man", I threatened aloud in a slightly psychotic, sing-song, half whisper of a tone.

"Send A Message" I clicked and typed:

You're cute. Are you really single? Too good to be true, if you are. I'd love to meet you.

I checked back a day later and, just as I had suspected, this fish was easily caught.

You sound hot. Send me some photos.

That was his reply.

A knot instantly formed in my stomach. I was sickened.

"You want pictures?" I said aloud. "Oh, I'll give you pictures all right."

I found a Russian Mail Order Bride website, cracked my knuckles, put a little Fiona Apple on the stereo, just to keep the fire fueled and worked some evil magic. It didn't take me long to find a match for my fabricated description.

"There you go, sucker", I hissed as I copied the image into my picture folder. "Let's take it a step further," I thought. I googled Images and found some photos of a little red-headed girl who eerily matched up with the mail order bride photos. Totally different websites. Totally random. And yet it all fit together nicely.

"Aw. Here's me when I was a baby", I cooed sarcastically as I selected and copied the image.

"Here's me getting a bath from my mommy. Adorable", I continued, an evil laugh throttling in the back of my throat.

And off went the images to the email he had provided for more "private conversation". "Can't wait", I whispered sarcastically, biting my lower lip and laughing out loud.

Not long after an IM conversation ensued.

HIM: WOW! You're super hot! Love the pics!

ME: Thanks.

HIM: So, we should meet up. Soon.

My nostrils flared and I snorted in disgust. An angry glare welled up in my eyes. "UN-believable", I said aloud. My stomach churned harder. A lump formed in my throat. I picked up my phone and dialed his number.

HIM: One sec.

He typed quick on his IM.

"Yeah. It's me, you idiot", I said aloud. But he didn't answer. I got his voice mail. Within seconds he returned to the IM.

HIM: K. Sorry. Just my buddy calling. I'm going out later to play some poker. You should come along.

I clenched my jaw and glared up at the ceiling, fighting back tears. I was so hurt. So disgusted. My blood so hot, it burned through my veins.

HIM: You there?

I had completely forgotten my IM conversation with him. "What am I gonna' do now?" I thought. The bitterness and anger brewed inside of me so hot, I felt like a simple confrontation wasn't going to be good enough for this one. This one was going to pay a little harder than the rest.

"What if I'm a drug addict?", I said aloud to my computer screen, the right corner of my mouth turned up a bit. My eyes were glazed over. The words on the screen blurry. I squeezed them together tight, wringing out the lingering tears.

ME: You into street stuff at all?

I typed this sentence, not even knowing what I was talking about. A more street-ignorant girl you couldn't find for miles around. But I had to chance it. I tried to sound as hardened and fargone as possible.

HIM: What d'ya mean, baby?

"BABY?" I shouted at the screen. "You're already calling me baby? You don't even know me. You have no idea I'm a drug addict who prostitutes on the side" I instantly rotted Natalia's character in the story. "I'm going to make her sound as filthy and undesirable as possible," I thought. "He wants to go for someone simply based on her looks and do it behind my back? I'll give him what he deserves."

As our conversation progressed, I made Natalia as foul as I could. And yet, his interest still clung like drying tar.

He wanted to meet. He was pushing for it with all of his might. And I agreed. Our conversation ended abruptly then because I couldn't take it anymore. I reminded him he had a poker game and I had a "client" waiting. Yeah. I said that. A client. Late at night. He wasn't even phased.

The Plan: Revenge.

Step One: Set A Date.

Aaron sent me a message on the website the next night, insisting again that we meet soon. I responded:

I know this great sushi restaurant in North Scottsdale. You like sushi?

He responded later that night, stating that he loved sushi. I told him to meet me at Sapporo. The place had a nightclub atmosphere. It was loud. It was dimly lit. It was the perfect location to carry out my evil plan. I gave him the directions and time.

Step Two: Alter My Appearance to Match Natalia's.

I used to have a mole on the right side of my face, right by my nose. Just a small, chocolate brown one. A beauty mark, in my opinion. However, I decided to have this removed. It wasn't strictly part of my vengeful plan. It was something I had been pondering on for a while and had had a few medical opinions on. Now was a good time. It would certainly help. And so, I had it removed.

There was a wig shop in the mall. I had seen it many times. It intrigued me. Now I needed its help. I walked in and my eyes darted about the endless shelves of wigs. I had a particular look in mind. Something deep red, shoulder length, sexy. Found it.

Next stop - Sally's Beauty Supply. I needed some new eye colors. And some false eyelashes.

And finally - a new outfit for this occasion. Something he wasn't familiar with.

I rode home, my disguise strewn about the back seat of my car in various bags, Fiona Apple blaring on the radio, a smirk on my face, the final step playing out in my head in several different scenarios as I hurried to finalize my decision as to how this would go down exactly. I pulled into my garage, grabbed my bags and scurried into the house. I layed everything out on my bed, surveyed it with satisfaction and jumped in the shower.

Two hours later I was ready. And it was time.

Step Three: Catch Him Red-Handed.

I arrived at the restaurant a few minutes late. I wanted him to be there first. I had instructed him to go ahead and get a table and I would find him. He found this to be very exciting. I was so glad. Because it would be. But not so much for him.

I walked up the stone steps to Sapporo, glided past the fiery stone pillar and slipped past the guests gathered in front.

"Can I help you?", the greeter asked as I attempted to slip through the other patrons.

"Oh. I'm meeting someone. He should be here already", I called back.

"Oh. All right then. Go on ahead", the greeter called back.

I sauntered through the restaurant with its dimly lit atmosphere, blue grids flashing, large fish tanks full of exotic fish, drunken, barely dressed, over tanned women and live Ken dolls in over priced designer duds, all sipping poison and ogling over each other. And sometimes my Natalia costume. I shuddered and scowled. I wasn't interested. I was on a mission. I continued to push past the people, squinting through the foggy atmosphere.

Alas, I found him, looking slightly uncomfortable, glancing about the room, shifting in his seat, caressing a glass of his own poison. I rolled my eyes and continued my seductive saunter to his booth. He was gazing the other direction as I slid into place across from him, a waiter on my tail ready to take my drink order. Aaron's head jerked around to face me as I sat down.

"Natalia?" he called out through the noise.

I half smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Hey, hottie", I responded.

"Can I get you a drink?" the waiter called out.

"Water! I'd like water!" I shouted back.

The waiter froze and stared at me dumb-founded. I nodded and repeated. "Just water for now." I'm sure he rolled his eyes as he walked away. I didn't care. My adrenaline was flowing wildly at this point. My heart pounding at a feral speed.

"So, you look niiice", he oozed, a slimy attempt at seduction.

I slid my foot across the floor and rubbed it against his.

"Mmmm," he responded, biting his lower lip and closing his eyes. "You should come sit over here by me".

"Perfect", I thought. "This will get me closer so he can really see me." I paused for a moment, just to build his anticipation. Then, a provocative look in my eyes, I slid out from my position and slid right back in beside him. I rubbed my shoulder against his and he giggled. I giggled too, temporarily forgetting the plan. Forgetting the anger. "The fun is over with this guy. He thinks you're someone else", I reminded myself quickly and the smile fell right off my face.

I felt something tugging at my head. Aaron had reached his hand up to play with the wig, thinking it was my real hair. "Oh no", I thought. I hadn't taken that into consideration. I gently walked my fingers up his arm and took his hand in mine, bringing it back down to the table. "You have nice hands," I lied, pretending to examine them so he wouldn't become suspicious. He reached his other hand over and stroked my cheek.

"You're seriously so gorgeous. Oh my gosh! I can't believe it! You're way better in person, seriously!" My emotions started mixing up. I wasn't sure how to feel about that. He thought I was gorgeous, but he also thought I was Natalia. I turned my head to face him straight on. I looked right into his eyes, gazing into them, wondering how long it would take him to realize. Did I really appear that different? We were up close now. Of course, he was drinking, a little unknown fact...until tonight.

Then it happened. His face began to contort, his eyes examining my face, my body. He squinted a bit and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "Wow. I'm really tired or something," he exclaimed.

"Yeah?" I replied.

"Yeah", he answered back. "It's the lighting in here or something. You just look really familiar to me. It's kind of weird."

"What's wrong?" I leaned in a little closer, drawing a pattern from his left cheek, down to his chin.

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" He asked, a puzzled look on his face. I was instantly gratified. This was perfect. Everything was going exactly as I had planned it.

I sipped my water and leaned in close enough to whisper in his ear. "Really? You don't recognize me?" I slowly backed away and let him have a good look.

"So weird." He said. "You look like my ex-girlfriend."

Instantly I was angered. "Ex-girlfriend?" I thought to myself. "This is news to me. When was he going to tell me?"

"Are you sure she's your ex?" I leaned in and whispered seductively into his ear again. I pulled away again and this time his look was one of concern and complete bewilderment.

"What's my name?" I whispered in his ear again.

He jerked his head back, squinting his eyes and looking me up and down again. "Natalia. I think", he replied.

I leaned in and whispered again. "Wrong".

"Huh?" Aaron slid backward slightly, rubbing his eyes and squinting at me again. "What's going on?"

"Pay the tab and I'll show you," I spoke aloud.

He waved the waiter over and handed him cash. I nonchalantly slid out, looking away from him, and led him out of the restaurant by hand.

The second we exited the place, the cool, silent air smacked us in the face. And the questions came flying at me as I continued to lead him by the hand past the fiery stone pillars, down the large stone steps.

"What's going on? Are you like a friend of Natalia's or something? Do I know you?" He asked in desperation.

"You know who I am", I replied and led him directly to my car. He jerked his hand away from mine and stared, horror struck. He slowly walked around the back and examined the license plate, running his hand along it, then standing back up and examining me from head to toe.

"I know the girl who owns this car. Did she send you?" He said, an irritated tone to his voice.

"Since when am I your ex-girlfriend?" I responded.

"Huh?" He stumbled back a bit. "I don't know what you're talking about. What the crap is going on here?"

I ripped the wig off and threw my head forward, ruffling my hair with my hands. "Since when am I your ex-girlfriend?" I shouted, enraged.

Aaron threw his hands up in defense. "Whoa. Whoa. You're crazy! This is like totally psychotic!"

"Yeah? You think? I wanted to see how far you'd go. How far you'd make me go." I hissed, pacing towards him as he continued to back away. "You're a liar! And a cheat!"

"You're sick!", he shouted back. "This is going too far!"

"Oh and hooking up with some drug-addicted, prostitute behind my back isn't?" I shouted back. A couple leaving the restaurant scooted hurriedly past us, seemingly concerned for their well-being. I straightened up and looked around me, suddenly aware of the small audience gathered.

"Don't ever call me again! Don't talk to me! Don't email me! You don't exist to me! You understand?" I screamed and turned, walking back to my car. I jumped in, started it up, squealed out of the parking space and took note of him - still standing there - completely dumb-founded. And that was it.

I Don't Need A Doctor, Thank You

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away I was in a band. It was something I did to pass the time - to keep my mind off of the fact that the years were passing by and I was not finding my man. I decided to learn the guitar and become like Sarah McLachlan.

To take it a step further, I actually found myself some band mates and started recording and then through my lead guitarist's connections, started getting some gigs. One day I got a call from a production company telling me that the "Singles Ward" movie was having a premier in Arizona at a singles event and I was asked to play a few of my songs. Somehow my lead guitarist had passed a demo CD onto the company without telling me and the call came as a complete surprise. I was excited and stressed. This was a big deal to me and I wanted to sound good. I didn't trust myself or my lead guitarist to run the sound well enough, so I got on-line and looked up sound guys in AZ.

I found one. His website was impressive and his pricing seemed reasonable to me. His name was Ryan. I called him up and asked him if he could run sound for me at this event. He checked his calendar and said he was available, so I gave him directions to the place, the date and time and then remembered, "I don't even know what you look like, so...."

"Well, I know what YOU look like, so I'll find you. Don't worry."

"Oh. How do you know what I look like?" I asked, a little perplexed.

"I just looked you up. You have a website. There are pictures of you all over." He chuckled.

"Oh," I felt a bit idiotic, "okay. Well. Great. See ya' then."

I took my friend Troy along with me. He was a dear friend to me. A former boyfriend, now one of my biggest supporters. We arrived at the event. I was excited and nervous all at once. Troy and I made our way up to the building.

"There you are." I looked up and saw a brown-haired, blue-eyed, tall guy casually leaning against a pillar.



I squinted my eyes in the dark, feeling bad that I didn't recognize this person. "Hi," I replied hesitantly.

The guy laughed and stuck his hand out. "Ryan. I'm your sound guy."

I gasped. "Oh! Oh, yes! Okay. Sorry." I laughed nervously.

Then Ryan grinned and began to chuckle a bit.

"Okay", I laughed again. "Let's do this." I looked over at Troy, his arms folded across his chest, a smirk on his face. Ryan began to gather up his things.

"What?" I questioned Troy's look.

Troy flashed a big goofy grin and held up his hands in defense. "Oh, nothing. I'm just enjoying this."

I smacked his arm and playfully glared at him.

We all entered the building and one of the event planners led us to our spot on the stage. Ryan and I proceeded to set up our equipment in preparation for my big debut. Every once in a while I found myself glancing over at Ryan. I don't know if it was nerves or what. But every time I glanced at him, he was looking at me. And each time we both kind of blushed and laughed and looked away.

So, the night went well. I played my pieces and the sound was perfect. I was really happy with the evening. I approached Ryan after my short set and handed him a check. "So, you can go if you want to. You don't have to stay for all of this," I said.

"Oh. I don't mind. It's a pretty cool party," he replied, his hands in his pockets, panning the room and then looking back at me and smiling. I smiled back and felt myself blushing, so I looked away quick, pretending like I was looking for someone. I felt Ryan's arm brushing against me. He had moved in a little bit closer. Just enough for us to touch. Suddenly I felt him slightly bump against me. I looked up at him, a question as to the nature of this movement in my eyes.

He flashed a grin at me. "So, you were good. I liked your music."

"Oh. Thanks." I felt kind of sheepish. I was always a bit self-conscious about my music and performances.

He ended up staying the whole evening. At the end of the event, we packed our equipment up and said our goodbyes.

"Well, thanks again for running my sound. It was great. I was really happy with it." I said, sticking my hand out, offering to shake his.

"Come here," Ryan replied, holding his arms out, gesturing for me to hug him instead. I giggled nervously and hugged him. "You were really great. I was honored to run your sound."

I suddenly became aware of Troy standing behind me, viewing this whole transaction. I could just picture his smirk. I could just imagine the teasing I'd get all the way home. I suddenly felt like a complete dork. I heaved a sigh at the thought. "All right. Well...good night."

I turned around and sure enough, Troy was leaning against the truck, arms folded across his chest, huge smirk. I rolled my eyes at him and walked past. We both jumped up into the truck, Troy in the driver's seat. At first Troy reached over and turned on the music immediately upon starting up the truck. "Hmm. Maybe he's gonna' cut me a break this time, " I thought.

"Wow. So he was HONORED to run your sound." He started in the second my thought ended.

"Shut up." I rolled my eyes.

"So, when are you two going out, huh?" Troy started chuckling.

I sighed and rolled my eyes again, looking out the window, refusing to respond.

The next day was Saturday. I was home alone, just cleaning my condo. The phone rang and I saw Ryan's name on the caller ID. My heart began to pick up speed. "Hm. I wonder what he wants," I thought.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hey Kristin. How are ya'?" His voice was very upbeat and cheery.

"Good," I chirped back. "How are you?"

"Not bad. So, hey I have something for you," he said.

"Oh," I hesitated. What would he have for me? This was interesting. "What is it?" I inquired, suddenly very intrigued.

"Well, can I come over and show you?" he asked.

"Oh. Umm...sure. Well, I'm not very decent right now. I'm still in my pajamas, just cleaning."

I heard him chuckle. "You're in your pajamas?" He teased. "How cute."

I contorted my face, feeling like a silly little girl. Why did I tell him I was in my pajamas? Was he getting a vision of me in little pink flowered jammies with my hair in pigtails now?

"Well, give me like 30 minutes and then you can come over. Is that okay?" I invited.

"Yep. I'll see you then."

I gave him my address and directions and then bolted for the shower.

Ryan appeared on my doorstep 45 minutes later, CD in hand.

"What's this?" I asked, stepping back and inviting him in.

"I recorded you live. Just for fun." He chuckled.

My eyes widened in horror. "No. Oh my gosh. No. Why didn't you tell me you were doing that?" I was so afraid of what was on the disc. I'd never heard myself recorded live like that. I felt even more self-conscious than ever. And he'd already listened to it.

"Don't be scared. It's not bad." He chuckled again, patting my back.

"Not BAD?" I was completely mortified now.

At his persistent urging, I put it on, scrunching my face and holding my head in my hands, I waited in anticipation. So, basically - it wasn't too good. I had been recorded in a studio many times and I was really happy with it, but this live performance was just not good.

"Oh noooooo." I moaned. "This is horrible."

"Don't worry about it. You sounded good to the rest of 'em. This catches fine little details that the crowd didn't hear. Trust me. " He tried to reassure me, but very unsuccessfully.

I fell to my knees and continued to moan and groan. "Oh my gosh. This has to be destroyed right now!"

So, in spite of the horrid recording, Ryan seemed to want to date me. He asked me out for another night and we had fun. He was a real easy-going, fun-loving guy and I was attracted to him. Still, I always felt self-conscious around him because he had heard me sounding horrid on a recording and I just couldn't get past it.

Over time our relationship started to become serious. I introduced him to my son and sometimes he'd take us both out. I enjoyed being with him, but the spark that existed with other guys just wasn't completely there and I couldn't figure out why. It kind of frustrated me.

One night Ryan and I were supposed to go out on our usual date, but I hadn't been feeling well since the morning. The pressure in my head was building, my sinuses were congested, and my body felt achy. My son was gone with his dad for the weekend, so I spent the day laying around my condo watching movies and sleeping and just generally feeling icky. I called Ryan that afternoon and explained my predicament.

"Well, let me come over and take care of you then." He offered.

I was so gross, I didn't even want my boyfriend seeing me like this. And besides, I just felt like I wanted to be alone for some reason. "No. No. You don't want to see me like this. I'm so gross."

He laughed. "Aw. Come on. You're so adorable. You couldn't possibly look bad. Just let me come take care of you," he pressed.

"Ryan." I said very firmly. "No."

"Kristin." He mimicked my tone. "Yes."

After several more minutes, I finally gave into his persistence, warning him "Okay, you asked for it. If you're freaked out by the hideous sight, remember you did this to yourself."

And so he arrived about a half hour later, carrying two bags. I opened the door and looked him up and down in suspicion. "What's all that?" I questioned, refusing to let him pass until he explained.

"Just...stuff." He said, giggling nervously and trying to hide the contents. "Just let me in so I can take care of you."

I contorted my mouth and furrowed my brow, half suspicious, half annoyed.

"Now go sit on the couch and relax," he said in a whiny tone, gently caressing my arm.

I wasn't liking the look and sound of it all, but I reluctantly obeyed. I plopped down on the couch, pulling my blanket up around my body and waiting. Ryan began to enter my room with his bags.

"What are you DOING?" I asked in annoyance.

"Just wait," he replied and shut and locked the door. I humphed and sat back, arms folded across my chest.

A few minutes later he emerged. He was dressed in scrubs with a surgeon's cap and mask on, a play stethoscope around his neck. He posed seductively in the doorway. I had to fight off the reaction I wanted to give, so as not to hurt his feelings. I was concerned. What in the world was his intention here? He began to dance around the room, apparently another attempt at seducing me...or something. I couldn't figure it out.

"Now, doctor Ryan needs to listen to your heart." He approached me. I slumped down and pulled the covers up to my chin.

"Ryan," I whined at him, scrunching up my nose. "What are you DOING? Seriously."

He ripped the covers off of me and threw them on the floor. Then he leaned over with the stethoscope and pressed it against my chest. "Hmmm", he made a goofy face. "Your heart is sounding a little sad. Dr. Ryan needs to fix that."

"What?" I contorted my face, a little put off at this point. "Ryan," I whined and shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

"Oh, little Kristin doesn't want to play doctor?" he said in a very unappealing voice.

"No", I said, shifting again and shaking my head. "Can I have my covers back, please?"

His shoulders slumped and he sighed, his expression changing to one of annoyance. "Okay, fine. Let's light a little mood candle, shall we?" He pulled a candle out of his bag and lit it, then began wafting the scent through the air with his hands. "There. That should make you feel better." He began talking in a bit of a babyish tone.

This was quickly becoming a nightmare. I recognized that he was simply trying to take care of me in his own way, but this was not working for me. I wasn't feeling it. He began to look less and less appealing by the minute. I was beginning to feel awkward and uncomfortable with each new suggestion. First the doctor bit, then the candle, then a video about him skydiving that he thought might make me feel better. I was beginning to question this guy's sanity.

"Okay, now story time." He said, smiling as if very pleased with himself. I furrowed my brow hard and heaved a big sigh.

"A story? Really?" I moaned at him.

"Now just hold on." He replied in yet another unappealing voice he was putting on. He pulled a book out and held it next to his head, a cheesy grin on his face. It was a children's book about a kid who was sick and had to go to the doctor. I was extremely concerned at this point. I didn't know how much more of this I could take.

As he read me the book, I just sat there examining him from where I sat, on the other side of the couch. I had one of those 'you have got to be kidding me' expressions on my face. As he read on, holding the book up periodically to show me the pictures, I thought back to that first night we met. Did I miss a tell-tale sign there? I searched that night through my mind over and over, looking as deep and hard as I could. I came up empty. This guy had basically just morphed into a super sensitive, super silly creature and I was completely dumb-founded.

I eventually managed to get rid of him, insisting that I was dead tired and really needed my sleep. He proceeded to offer to sit by my side and watch me sleep, but that was far too creepy for me, so I begged him to leave me be. The second he entered his car and I shut the door after waving a polite goodbye, I felt instant relief. I fell into bed and slept hard for a couple of hours.

Later that evening, I got on my computer and checked my emails. There was one from Ryan. I breathed in quickly and held the breath, contorting my face and hesitating before clicking on it. I was a little afraid of what I might find.

The email was extremely long. About as long as one of my stories. It was a story. It started out:

Once upon a time there was a prince named Ryan...

The email proceeded to tell his life story from the time he was born until he grew up. It was complete with pictures. There was even a picture of his mother. The woman did NOT match the woman from my dream. I sighed a HUGE sigh of relief. But this was a very silly, and I had a feeling 'sick' email. Extremely curious, I read on.

Eventually it reached the part where he met me. I was the princess. Yipee!

And then one night Prince Ryan met a beautiful princess named Kristin.

I cringed and shuddered. He was such a nice guy, but this was just not my style. I needed a man, not an overly sensitive little boy. I was afraid to read on, but again my curiousity got the best of me. The email proceeded to document every single date we had ever been on, including every little detail of every date right down to the exact food we ate and some of the dialogue exchanged. I was shocked. I hadn't even remembered most of this stuff.

But the part that concerned me most was the final few paragraphs. Suddenly the date documentation became eerily fantasized. He started describing dates we had never been on, dialogue that was never exchanged, events that hadn't occurred. He described meeting my family (something that had not happened).

And I'm sure you know where this is going. It ended with a wedding. Our wedding.

I gasped and clasped my hand over my mouth. My eyes wide in horror. "Oh my gosh. This guy's completely nuts," I said aloud. My heart started pounding, but this time in terror. I had to get rid of this guy. Immediately. I could not waste another moment of my life trapped in this nightmare.

I clicked on reply and began typing feverishly. I explained repeatedly how this just wasn't going to work for me. That I felt nothing for him and while I appreciated his concern for my well-being and his willingness to take care of me, his style did not match mine and I was completely put off. I also proceeded to tell him that I found his email disturbing and that the final few paragraphs actually made me sick.

I finished off by thanking him for everything he had done for me up to that point (excluding the creepy stuff, of course) and asked him to please not contact me anymore. I told him that I just wasn't interested and that we both needed to move on from this.

I didn't hear back from him over the next couple of days and while I felt sad about the possibility of hurting his feelings, I knew I had done the right thing. That it needed to end this way. I had dealt with his kind before. You have to be very straightforward and adamant about what you want and don't want.

Exactly one week later I received a knock on my door. My son ran to get it and I followed close behind. When we opened the door, no one was there. My eyes panned down and rested on a box, sitting in the corner of my front porch.

My son gasped in delight. "Mom. It is for me?" He asked.

"I don't know, honey", I responded. "Let's bring it in and see." Just before closing the door, my eyes panned the parking lot. I saw no one. Nothing out of the ordinary. I eventually closed the door. My son had already ripped the box open. It was a teddy bear from Build-A-Bear. He was dressed in a surgeon's outfit. Immediately I got the chills. "Oh no", I thought. "This guy isn't going to go away so easily, is he?" I desperately hoped I was wrong.

There was a note attached. The note explained that he had received my email and while it was hurtful, he understood. But he just HAD to leave me one last gift - the bear dressed as a surgeon - to remember him by. I read the note silently to myself and then turned to my son who was holding the bear and admiring it. "Hey, honey", I said. "You know what? It IS for you. It's from a secret admirer." He squealed in delight and hugged it tight as I raised my eyes to heaven and mouthed, "THANK YOU".

It was over!

**The picture used in this story is not actually Ryan. However, the similarities are uncanny. It could be his twin brother. Seriously.

One Stop Shopping

I needed a car. My beautiful, brand new, pimped out, silver Nissan Altima had been hit by a drunk driver and though the insurance company deemed it "perfectly fine" after six weeks in the shop and thousands of dollars in repairs later, it just never drove the same.

It was Saturday morning. My son was gone for the weekend with his dad. I dreaded the whole car shopping thing, the "bargaining" (yeah right), financing garbage was not going to be fun. I was self-employed and my credit was only so-so - two major obstacles when trying to purchase ANYTHING!

I did my hair and makeup, got dressed up cute because that's what you do when you're single (never know who you'll run into, right?) I decided to go to Nissan because I loved my Nissan and I decided I wanted another one. But this time I would purchase a used one. I arrived at the dealership, heaved a big sigh and headed toward the grand stairs and double glass door entrance. I walked in, stopped dead center in the entryway and scanned the large showroom. A short, heavyset, balding man with a mustache approached me with a big smile, holding his hand out. "Welcome to Nissan. My name is Richard. What can I do for you?"

"Hi", I sighed. "I'm here to buy a car. Mine is not doing so well".

"Okay. Okay. Sure. We can help you with that. Were you looking to trade your current car in? " he asked, looking past me, scanning the parking lot as if he'd be able to pick out which one was mine.

"Yep. Mine is fairly new, but it's been in a bad accident and the insurance company decided to fix it, but it's acting strange, so I think I just want a new one", I said. I don't know what he said after that because I started rerunning that sentence through my head trying to figure out if I had just ruined my bargaining chances.

"Well, listen. Have a seat at this table here. Let me grab a few things and I'll be right with you", he pulled the chair out for me and scurried off to a large room full of well-suited men holding clipboards. It was like the salesmen holding pen or something. I sat in my seat, heaved another sigh and tried to psych myself for what would probably be the most horrendous day I'd had in years.

I scanned the showroom and glanced over at the holding pen. That's when I saw him.
He was talking to Richard, looking back and forth between Richard and me. "Oh great", I thought. "They're probably discussing how I'm not going to qualify for anything and trying to figure out how to get me out of here".

Suddenly the handsome stranger broke away from Richard and strode confidently toward me, a half smile on his face, his eyes twinkling. He was so graceful and just...beautiful. He offered his hand to me. I couldn't move. All of my attention was focused on not allowing my jaw to drop. I just stared at his hand for a few seconds, making the situation slightly awkward.

"I'm Mauricio", he quietly chuckled. It was very melodic and pleasant to listen to. I caught a whiff of his scent. Not just his cologne, but the cologne on his skin. I was instantly addicted.

"Hi", I managed in a very casual tone. "I'm Kristin". I was so proud of myself for not falling to my knees and drooling all over his feet.

"So, how can I help you?" he asked, taking a seat and pulling it in close to me, practically touching shoulders with me.

I drew in a long, deep breath and thought, "Oh, this is gonna' be a good day".

Here's a quick replay of that day: We talked about ourselves and looked at one or two cars. It felt like a date. He was a father to two little boys, recently divorced. He was from Brazil. And he was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. He had an accent too. I'm such a sucker, I know.

I scrunched my nose at my choices and let out a "hmph". Mauricio chuckled and tried to reassure me. "Get in it", he said. "Let me see how you look".

"How I look?" I giggled.

He chuckled his melodic chuckle again, "Yeah".

"Okaaay", I replied, a little uneasy. I sat in the seat and posed with my hands on the wheel like I was driving it. "So?"

A wide grin spread across his face. His eyes caught mine and held them captive for a few minutes. I started to lose myself in his gaze when he suddenly averted his attention, his skin tone becoming slightly red.

"Well?" I chuckled. "Is it bad? It's bad."

"No", he replied, continuing to avert his eyes, "It's good. You look really cute in that car."

"Oh, really?" I laughed.

"Yeah. You should get out," he motioned for me to get out and stepped backward.

"Get out?" I was puzzled.

He giggled nervously and the pink in his cheeks turned crimson. "Yeah. You should really get out quick. It's too good. I can't look anymore".

My face began to burn and I had a sneaking suspicion my skin tone now perfectly matched his.

We spent the rest of the day chatting and giggling and waiting together as the car buying process continued. He helped no one else that day.

Finally, my car was purchased. And the heart-wrenching truth hit me hard. It was time to part ways. He walked me down the long, sterile hallway to my car. We were alone in that hallway. We said nothing to each other, just followed the path in silence, both staring straight ahead, the tension building. I waited for him to say something. Anything. "Please let him ask for my number." I prayed over and over in my head. But alas, we reached the glass door at the end, my new car on the other side. Mauricio stopped a few steps before the door and turned to face me, keeping his eyes on the ground. He lifted my new car keys and held them between us, his eyes focused on the linoleum below us. There was a sudden formality to his speech. He congratulated me on my new car and handed me my paperwork and keys.

My heart dropped into my stomach. The disappointment was too much to bear. I was ridiculous. I was there to buy a car. I didn't know this guy. So I'd had fun talking to him. Why was I acting like a silly high school girl about this? Where was my pride? My self control? I just stood there, staring at the top of his head, my fingernails digging into my flesh underneath my new stack of papers. I wanted him to look at me. I wanted to look into those beautiful eyes one more time. We just stood there, frozen like two marble statues in a museum in some turn of the century pose one might entitle "Anticipation". Finally, he broke his stance and looked up into my eyes. They were empty. The twinkle was gone. Not even a hint of a smile on his lips. I searched them, desperate. Nothing.

"Well, good luck with your new car", he said very coolly. And then he turned and walked back down the long, sterile hall, away from me. That was it. I bit my lip, fighting back my emotion. I moped out to my car and drove off, slightly depressed.

I arrived home, trudged through the garage door, through the condo to my sofa and collapsed onto it. I just laid there in a daze. I had a party to go to that night. A party with lots of cute single guys. A party I was excited about earlier that morning - before I met Mauricio. Now my thoughts were consumed with his face, his smell, his smile, his voice, everything. I completely lost track of time. I have no idea how long I laid there, but eventually I pushed myself up from the sofa and moped to my bathroom. I began to pull my ponytail out and wash my face. I stopped and stared at my reflection for a moment. I attempted a smile, but it wasn't sincere. "Okay, seriously. What is my problem?" I spoke aloud. "He sold me a car. He was just being cute and fun to get me to buy a car. That's it. Get over it."

I proceeded to get ready for the party, popped a frozen dinner into the microwave, and plopped down on my sofa, flipping the television on, hoping to find something light and funny to watch to avert my attention and lift my mood. Suddenly my phone rang. I jumped up and walked briskly over to the kitchen counter to retrieve it. The caller ID showed it was my parents' number.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hey Kristin. This is your dad," came the reply on the other end.

"Hey dad," I sighed. I don't know why I thought Mauricio would be calling me. My hopes were far too clingy for my own good.

My dad asked me about my day and I shocked him with the big news - I purchased a car. All by myself. He was surprised all right. And extremely concerned. He proceeded to interrogate me about the day's events. I was still his little girl at the age of 28. I had a feeling I would always be his little girl. I insisted that everything was fine, that I got a good deal, I was happy with it and he didn't need to worry, but he wasn't buying my story, not even a little bit.

"Hon, I'm just concerned that you've been taken advantage of. I know you're happy and fine and don't have a problem, but your dear old dad just wants to be reassured here, okay?"

"Daaaad", I whined, suddenly acting like that little girl he still saw every time he looked at me.

"Hon", he chuckled his signature concerned chuckle. "I just wanna' talk to this guy who sold you the car. Just for a few minutes. I just want him to run over the numbers with me real quick. That's all. Can you call him? Do you have his number? You should have a number on your paperwork or he should have given you a card or something," he persisted.

"Yeah, I've got a number", I moaned. "I'll call and see if he can meet with you for a minute tonight, but seriously, dad, he already spent the whole day with me and he's probably busy with other customers." I very unsuccessfully tried to talk him out of it, but he persisted. THAT's where I got my stubbornness.

I hung up the phone with my dad and heaved a frustrated sigh. I pulled out the card Mauricio had handed me. There was his name. His number. Why was I upset with my father? "Wait a minute", I said aloud. "My dad is doing me a favor. A huge favor. I get to see Mauricio again". My spirits instantly lifted and I quickly dialed the number on the card.

The voice answered on the other end, like an angel from heaven. "Hello. This is Mauricio".

"Mauricio", I chirped. My tone a little too excited.

"Hey Kristin." His voice sounded excited too. He chuckled. "What's up?"

I cleared my throat and tried to sound as business-like as I could. "Umm. Well, I have a problem. My dad is concerned about the fact that I just bought a car by myself today."

"Oh, okay", he cut in and chuckled. "Protective of his little girl, huh?"

"Yeah", I responded, not sure if I should feel stupid or flattered.

"Well, bring him down", his voice chimed like a beautiful antique clock.

And so, I proceeded to drive back to the Nissan dealership, the biggest, most ridiculous grin plastered to my face. I was all done up for the big party I was planning on attending that night. I met my dad in front of the grand entrance and proceeded up the stairs, a few paces ahead of my dad. I threw the glass door open wide and breezed in, panning the room.

Mauricio appeared from around the corner, walking briskly toward us, the twinkle in his eye was back. The beautiful, pearly white grin in place.

(We need another picture as a reminder.)

We each pulled a chair up to a small round table and my dad and Mauricio proceeded to talk numbers back and forth across the table, me in the middle looking back and forth between the two, only because staring at Mauricio the entire time, a dreamy look in my eyes would have been completely inappropriate. I have no idea what they talked about. My head was swirling with visions of Mauricio and I skipping through a flowery field holding hands, stopping occasionally only to gaze into each other's eyes.

Suddenly my dad got up from the table. I snapped out of my dream and drew in a long breath, straightening up in my seat and looking to Mauricio for answers.

"He's just going to get something out of his truck to show me," he reassured me.

"I'm so sorry", I said placing my hand on the table next to his. I wanted to touch his hand, but I knew it would be even more inappropriate than staring at him all evening.

Mauricio sat forward so that his face was only inches from mine. He chuckled and grinned. "I'm actually glad," he said.

I sat back against my seat and furrowed my brow in confusion. "You are?" I asked in amazement.

"Of course. I get to see you again", he teased.

I blushed and stared at the table, fighting back my school girl urges.

"I was depressed when you left this afternoon." My mind instantly replayed the scene from a few hours earlier. Suddenly it played out differently. He was depressed? THAT explained his suddenly cool nature. He was trying to hide his feelings, unsure of how I felt. "When you called me this evening, I was so happy to hear from you," he continued. "And then you walked in that door and you were like an angel."

Just then my dad re-entered the building. Mauricio straightened up and began to converse with my dad again. This time I didn't care if it was inappropriate. I gazed at him dreamily. "Did he just say I was like an angel?" I replayed his words over and over in my head. I wanted to hear them again.

My dad was satisfied with the transaction and got up to leave. He hesitated, seemingly waiting for me to follow. But I didn't. I stayed seated, waiting for him to leave, so I could have some more time alone with Mauricio. What else would he have to say to me? Would he finally ask me out? My dad looked back and forth between Mauricio and I and I literally saw the light go off in his head.

"Sooo..I guess I'll see you at home in a bit?", my dad questioned in a slow, suspicious tone.

"I don't live at home anymore, dad", I giggled. I heard Mauricio chuckle next to me.

"Oh. Right", my dad hesitated again and then turned to walk away in defeat. It was obvious - Mauricio and I were into each other. And I was 28. He could do nothing to stop what was about to happen.

FAST FORWARD

I never did attend the party that night. Mauricio asked me out for the evening. His day was over and he requested my company at dinner. He took me to Gainey Ranch - one of the most romantic places two people can go. We dined alone in an elegant restaurant. It was 10:00. The rest of the patrons had long since eaten and left. Mauricio reached across the table at one point and touched my hand. "I have a confession", he said between bites.

I raised an eyebrow in playful suspicion. "You do?" I couldn't wait to hear it. I was eager to hear anything he had to say. I was completely captivated. Addicted.

"Well", he leaned in, half whispering, "this morning when you came in and that guy Richard started to help you, I took one look at you from the office and made him trade me files."

"You did?" I giggled in disbelief.

Our evening was amazing. We finished our gourmet meal and strolled the grounds. The night was chilly. Mauricio put his arm gently around me. The moon was full and a band played romantic tunes as formally dressed couples twirled about on the flagstone. It was magical. They were offering gondola rides that night. "Shall we take a ride?" Mauricio leaned in and spoke softly into my ear, his warm breath tingling on my neck.

We stood in the long line of lovesick couples, some hanging on each other, some kissing passionately in the moonlight, not a care in the world. Mauricio chuckled and turned to face me. He pulled me in tight, holding me in his arms. He leaned in and kissed my cheek. I closed my eyes and smiled. Then he kissed my other cheek. Then he kissed my forehead. I kept my eyes closed and waited. He gently kissed the tip of my nose. I slightly tilted my head back, anticipating the touch of his lips on mine. But they didn't come. Instead he gently kissed my chin and then my left cheek again. And finally...his lips were warm and soft against mine. My head began to spin around like fall leaves caught in a gently whirlwhind. I nearly blacked out, it was so intense.

After a few moments, Mauricio pulled back and gazed at me, waiting for me to open my eyes. I drew in a long, cleansing breath and slowly opened my eyes, gazing up into his. "Are you religious?" He asked me. I froze. My eyes widened. A minor detail I completely overlooked. I WAS religious. And it was important to me. And yet it never did seem to come up in conversation. I had just completely thrown all thought of it out the window upon first glance of this Brazilian god. Mauricio took note of my reaction and chuckled softly. "What?"

"I'm Mormon, actually," I said, biting on my lower lip and watching for his reaction.

He chuckled a little louder, "Really? Mormon?"

I nodded and contorted my mouth. I sighed and looked away. "You're not, are you?" I asked, the disappointment evident.

"I'm Catholic," he responded very matter-of-factly.

I nodded, the disappointment completely unmasked. I heaved a big sigh. Mauricio chuckled and gently lifted my chin, cradling it in his hand and searching my eyes. "It's okay," he tried to reassure me.

I sighed again and threw my head back. "No, it's not. It's really not," I moaned.

"Come here, my beautiful, forbidden angel," he spoke softly and pulled me in closer, holding me tight. "It's okay. We'll figure it out."

"Really?" I said, the overbearing skepticism in my tone now. "You really wanna' try to figure THIS out? A Catholic and a Mormon?" I scoffed and leaned my head against his chest, squeezing my eyes shut tight.

"It'll be fun", he reassured me. "Like Romeo and Juliet."

Well, somehow we did seem to figure it out and our relationship continued. Mauricio eventually asked me to be exclusive with him and I instantly agreed. We had a lot of good long conversations under the stars, on walks across long bridges, sitting atop mountains, cozied up next to lakes; some of them religious, some of them playful, but most of them exploring each others interests and desires. Everything just clicked. It was amazing. My world felt complete. The religious issue always haunted the back of my mind, but I felt confident that we would find a way through it.

And then, the fateful night arrived. The night that made me wish that all those months ago my father had been in a position to tell me I was not allowed to "go out with that young man."

Mauricio picked me up after work, as usual. His instruction had been to dress nice. Our relationship had advanced to the point where the topic of marriage often peppered the conversation. His mother was Brazilian and therefore did not match up with the woman from my dream, but I no longer cared about finding that woman. Every moment with Mauricio was a visit to heaven. I was not about to trade that for some ridiculous dream.

I dressed for the occasion and anticipated my fairy tale prince's arrival. At exactly 9:35 he arrived on his stallion in the form of a silver sporty BMW. He approached my doorstep and rang the bell. I drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself. I was so giddy that night. I opened the door and he stepped back, gasping. There were no words. He simply shook his head in amazement as his eyes scanned my body from head to toe and back up again. He always made me feel like the most amazing woman. I was entangled in the web of the most beautiful dream and I never wanted to wake up.

He stepped up into the doorway then and moved in for a kiss, but as I moved in closer, he gently backed away and came in from a different angle. I matched his movement and moved in again, but again he gently backed away and took a step to the left, coming in at yet another angle. It was like a dance, but we didn't touch. We carried on like this a few more times and then he encircled my waist with one arm, lifted me gently and pressed his sweet, soft lips against mine, carefully lowering me again. "Are you ready?," he asked, offering his arm.

"Mmmm. Yes,"I replied.

We drove in silence, soft Brazilian music playing on the stereo, the windows slightly cracked, enough to let the refreshing night air in. The mood was relaxed and blissful. We arrived at an upscale resort. Mauricio pulled into the circular covered drive, lit by chandelier and exited the car, leaving his keys in the ignition for the attendant. A second attendant opened the door on my side and Mauricio came around, offering his arm to me again. He led me up the stairs and held the glass door open for me.

"Good evening, Sir", the attendant greeted us. "Your usual table?" Mauricio nodded and my gaze darted over to him, my eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"His usual table?" I thought. "He's a regular guest here? What is going on?" I kept my mouth shut and followed obediently as we were led around the corner to the elegant dining room. Mauricio's usual table was located in a bay window area, the walls curving around it, allowing a little more privacy than the other tables.

My mind was racing. "He's a car salesman. How is he a regular guest at this upscale resort with a private table?" I couldn't wait for the maitre'D to leave so I could interrogate. I didn't even know where to begin. Somehow I felt slightly uneasy. Mauricio didn't seem so familiar anymore.

The moment we were left alone, I leaned in and began my interrogation. "Mauricio", I stated in a loud whisper. "What is going on?"

"What do you mean?" he said, a wide grin spread across his face. "Don't you like it?"

"No. I like it. It's very...." I scanned the room. "...nice. It's just that this place is really fancy and probably ridiculously expensive and you have a regular table here?" I ended the sentence in a desperate question. "You're a car salesman. How do you eat here on a regular basis?"

Mauricio threw his head back and laughed. I furrowed my brow and sat back against my seat, folding my arms across my chest. After a few moments, Mauricio finally calmed himself and leaned in closer, reaching his hand out to me. I hesitantly and then reluctantly placed my hand on the table. He took my hand in his and gently caressed it with his thumb. "Sweetheart, I'm not a car salesman," he grinned, holding back another laugh.

I hunched my shoulders and furrowed my brow again, "You're not?"

"No, baby. I'm a finance guy. I know I spent the day with you showing you cars and all that, but I'm not a car salesman. I'm on salary. I'm in finance." He chuckled softly and gazed at me adoringly. I felt like a stupid little girl just finding out what her daddy's REAL job was.

"Oh. Well, I'm an idiot. How did I miss that?" I said in disgust.

"No, baby. No. Don't say that. It's okay." He smiled and lifted my hand, gently kissing the top. The tingling sensation invaded my body.

But this all seemed strange to me. "Okay, so he makes good money and can apparently afford to eat here often enough to have his own table, but who else does he come here with? Does he come alone?" The questions were bouncing around in my head. I felt slightly nauseous. Part of me wanted answers and part of me was afraid of the truth.

"Oh, I could just marry you right now!" Mauricio interrupted my thoughts, gazing into my eyes.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "That can never happen, Mauricio. I'm Mormon and you're Catholic. Remember that part?" I heaved a depressed sigh and sat back in my seat.

Mauricio withdrew his hand then and took a sip of his water. "Yeah, well. I couldn't marry you right now anyway."

Suddenly I was intrigued. I mean, I knew I couldn't marry him just yet. Not with the whole religion issue holding us back. But why was he suddenly telling me he couldn't marry me? Usually it was me trying to explain the issues to HIM. Was this just a game he was playing? Was he playing devil's advocate?

I leaned in, "Why couldn't you marry me right now?"

"I'm already married." He nonchalantly sat back in his seat, gazed out the window and grabbed his glass for another drink.

I gasped and laid my elbows on the table, leaning in even closer. "What?" I stated in disbelief.

"I'm married", he chuckled. Unbelievable. I've been caught up in a seven-month-long whirlwind romance with a married man and he's laughing? Is he kidding?

"What do you mean you're married?" I hissed in disgust.

"You know the definition. Marriage? Two people go before a priest and offer their vows and then live together and have children? You know?" He spoke to me now as if I were a complete idiot. All the love and respect he had shown me for months - gone. Just like that.

My heart sunk to the bottom and fell onto the floor. My jaw dropped. I sat there frozen in utter disbelief. Mauricio continued his meal, ignoring me completely. The nausea increased to an unbearable level. My vision became a little blurry, my head spinning, my breathing turning to panting. Suddenly the anger set in and I sat forward, scowling.

"Get the check," I said through gritted teeth.

"You're not going to make a scene, are you?" A look of concern flashed across his face. "It's okay, sweetie. We'll work it out." He held his hand out and touched mine. I quickly pulled away and sat back against my chair, my arms falling limply on either side of me. I stared out the window in a daze. My emotions like a roller coaster. I didn't know how to feel. I was caught between wanting to vomit and wanting to scream - feeling sick and depressed and feeling completely enraged.

"Just get the check now and I won't," I offered in a hiss.

He obeyed and we quickly fled the restaurant. I remained calm and collected. I put on an act like nothing was wrong. Everything was fabulous. Just fabulous. The attendant opened my door and I smiled and thanked him. I sat down in the car the same time as Mauricio. Our doors were both shut and the corners of my mouth fell into a disgusted scowl. Mauricio stared straight ahead, pulling the car out of the circular drive. We drove down the main road towards home without saying a word.

"Why did you tell me you were divorced?" I broke the silence.

"I didn't. I never said I was divorced. You just assumed that," he calmly explained.

"And you let me believe it!" I shouted. I threw my head back against the seat and moaned. "How could you do this to me, you (insert expletive)." (Well, wouldn't you be cussing too if you were me?) "So, basically you eat at that restaurant on a regular basis with your wife and now you've just taken your mistress in there!" I was horrified. I was embarrassed. What if somebody in there knew me or knew my family or knew somebody I knew?

"Baby, baby. It's nothing to get worked up over. We'll work something out. It'll all be okay," the words slithered off his tongue like a predator offering candy to a child.

"It'll all be okay? Are you for real? Do you live with your wife?" I hissed.

"Of course. We're married," he answered very matter-of-factly.

"Oh wow!" I shook my head in disbelief. "Wow. Wow. Wow. Where is she right now?"

He heaved a sigh and turned the music off completely. "At home with our boys."

"OH! MY! GOSH!" I screamed. I burst into tears. "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I can't believe this. This is the worst nightmare I have ever had in my entire life! This is worse than my divorce! This is worse than anything I've ever been through!" I cried out in agony.

Mauricio reached his hand over and touched my leg. I jerked it away and leaned against the window, sobbing and moaning.

"I'm sick. I'm sick, Mauricio." I moaned.

"It's gonna' be okay, baby. Really," he insisted.

"No. It's not!" I shouted. "Pull the car over. I'm seriously going to throw up!"

He veered off to the right and exited the freeway onto a quiet street. The second he pulled over, before he even completely stopped the car, I threw the door open and fell onto the ground, crawling a few feet away. I vomited violently on the side of the road. Mauricio jumped out of the car and ran to my side.

"Kristin! Are you okay?" He called out in concern.

"Get away from me!" I screamed.

"Kristin," he pleaded softly. He carressed my arm.

I slapped his hand away. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and started to stand up. Mauricio offered his hand, trying to help me up. I batted him away yet again. His persistence continued. He reached his hand out and brushed my hair away from my face. I instantly turned on him, slapping at him. He held his hands up in defense, backing away from me, stumbling over the uneven terrain.

"DON'T! TOUCH! ME! DON'T! EVER! TOUCH! ME! AGAIN!" I slapped at him as hard as I could with each scream. Then I turned from him and marched back to the car. "Take me home NOW!" I called out as I proceeded forward.

Mauricio ran up behind me, holding the door as I sat down hard on the seat. He shut the door for me and ran around to his side. He threw the car into drive and flew down the road, glancing over at me intermittently a worried look on his face. I laid back against the seat, panting and sputtering. My head was in a fog. I no longer saw the road. I didn't see anything. I didn't think anything. I didn't feel anything. I would never love again. I didn't believe it possible. "If it's amazing, it's not real", I decided that day.

We finally arrived at my condo complex. The instant he parked his car, I threw the door open and stumbled out. I ran to my door, Mauricio in close pursuit. I fumbled with my keys on the dimly lit porch as he pleaded with me, carressing my back. I unlocked the door and threw it open. Mauricio stepped up into the doorway. I spun around and pushed him back.

"No. Go away," I warned, my eyes glazed over. I couldn't even see his face, my vision was distorted by the tears.

"Kristin. Please. Don't shut me out," he begged.

I slammed the door in his face, double locked it, fell back against the door, slid to the ground, and bawled my eyes out until I heard the roar of his car engine and then it faded...into oblivion. And that was it. He was gone. And so was my fairytale.

Eventually I had cried out all feelings, all sensations. I was officially completely numb. I felt nothing. I saw nothing. I heard nothing. I awkwardly stumbled to my feet and across the room. My phone began to ring. I saw that it was him and the anger and hurt flooded the emptiness inside me like raging waters crashing through a dam. I wasn't done with him yet. I had a few more things to say. I flipped the phone open and shouted, "WHAT!" into it.

There was silence. I breathed heavy into the phone, waiting for a response. "Mauricio!" I screamed in a rage.

"Kristin", he said so softly, I could barely it. "Please let me in. I want to talk to you".

"About WHAT!?!" I hissed. "About how maybe I could just be your mistress? Are you going to try to talk me into being okay with that? Now I'm beginning to wonder if I'm even your only mistress. You probably have others!"

"That's impossible, baby. I've been with you every night. And I work all day every day. How could I be with someone else?" His tone remained calm. He attempted to persuade me; reassure me.

"Don't.....call me baby!" I stabbed out each word for dramatic effect.

"Okay. Okay," He defended. "What would you like me to call you? Sweetheart?" The ringing tone in his voice was back. I could hear the smile in his voice.

"You make me sick!" I screamed. "What does your wife think you're doing when you're out? HUH?!?!"

I heard him sigh. "She thinks I'm working late".

"WOW! Until 2:00 AM sometimes? Really?" I hissed back sarcastically. "You know what? I don't know what's going on in your mind. I don't know what you thought you were going to do. I'm so glad I found out now and not a year from now. All I have to say is, don't ever call me again. Ever. If you see me in public, don't look at me, don't talk to me. You don't know me. I don't know you. I have to go pick up the pieces of my life and try to start over now. I have to move on from this mess. You nearly destroyed me, you creep!"

"I can't be without you", he moaned into the phone. "I enjoy this so much right now."

"Oh, well that's just great. Just great for you!" I shouted in disgust. "I'll just put my life on hold and be your mistress. I'll just help you betray your wife for a while. I've got nothing better to do with myself! And then...hey...when you've had enough of me, just dump me by the wayside and go back to your wife! Or, better yet, go find another mistress! Yeah! That's a great plan!"

I slammed the phone shut. I couldn't take it anymore. He wouldn't listen to reason. He had his own ideas about relationships. He tried calling me back several times over the next month or so, but I never picked up again, never listened to his messages. As far as I was concerned, he no longer existed.

**The pictures used in this story are not actually of the Mauricio wrote about. The pictures are of a famous Brazilian actor also named Mauricio who just happens to look a lot like the Mauricio I knew.