The Conclusion - Chapter 4 - How Do I Explain This?

Bertrand and I talked for two more nights in a row until the wee hours of the morning. And as our conversation progressed, I felt such a strong, undeniable connection to him. Bertrand confessed his feelings toward me and we decided we should meet as soon as we could to see if there was a connection in person. We both grabbed our calendars and jumped on-line to look at ticket availability and pricing. We decided it would be best for him to come my way - to Arizona. And so we made plans for him to fly in December 9, 2004 (one month from our first phone conversation).

By the end of the conversation that night, as I hung up the phone I had this overwhelming feeling that I could marry this guy. I could see myself with him forever. And yet, he was still a stranger to me in so many ways.

"I think I must just be so tired. I'm just enamored with this guy and we haven't even met and he may not feel the same way and...this is just crazy", I thought out loud to myself. I laid awake for a while, my mind racing with so many thoughts.

What was happening to me? "I still have a boyfriend", I quickly reminded myself. I had no idea where he was or why he wasn't calling me back, but where I left off with him last - we were still very much in a serious relationship. I rolled onto my side, closed my eyes and tried to envision my boyfriend and my relationship with him in my head...but I drew a complete blank. In fact, the image of his face was quickly fading from my memory. It had only been three days since I had seen him.

I heaved a frustrated sigh and rolled back onto my back, staring up at my bedroom ceiling and thinking of Bertrand. I could feel the muscles in my face automatically turning up the sides of my mouth. I was smiling. I closed my eyes, breathed a deep, cleansing breath and rolled onto my other side and thought about my three nights of conversation with him. I needed help on this one. I felt like I was in completely uncharted territory. In all of my years of dating experiences, I had never experienced anything close to this. I rolled out of my bed and landed on my knees.

"God", I said aloud. "I have no idea what's happening to me. I feel like this guy is so great. He wants all of the same things I want. And he's so brave and strong. I admire him so much. And I can see myself with him. I really can. I can actually see myself married to him. And...okay, I know. This is crazy because I've never met him and maybe I'm just losing my mind, but I'm not sure. And I just...I need help here. Am I out of my mind or this guy a good choice for me?"

I immediately felt this warmth envelope me and tears began to form in my eyes. I straightened up and wiped the tears from my eyes, sniffling. "Okay, what is WRONG with me?" I said aloud and began to laugh. "I'm so tired right now." I climbed back into bed and pulled the covers up around me, my heart tingling with warmth. I closed my eyes, a grin plastered across my lips, and fell asleep.

The next night, I climbed into bed with my phone, excited for another long night of conversation with Bertrand. A couple of hours into our conversation, talk of what we wanted in a marriage surfaced yet again. I had this urge to tell him, "I prayed about you last night and I feel like you're a good choice for me". Yeah right! How would he take it? I couldn't do it. I tried to build up the courage several times, but my cowardice won out.

"I prayed about you." Suddenly Bertrand blurted this out to me. I gasped and remained silent. My jaw fell open and my eyes widened.

"Y-you did?"I asked in disbelief.

"Are you scared?" He asked hesitantly.

"Actually...no."I responded. "I prayed about you too".

"Are you serious?" He began to laugh and my nervous giggle set in.

After about one more hour of conversation we determined that we should marry. Just like that. It was so matter of fact. And yet it just felt so right. Absolutely insane, but so right for us somehow. After several more hours of conversation and planning out how we could possibly pull that off and who would move where and how we would merge our two very well established lives in separate states, we said good night and, for the first time uttered the words, "I love you" to each other. And it felt so comfortable and normal.

I laid back in my bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling again. Suddenly doubt set in.

"Okay, how can I marry this guy? I mean, I feel like I love him for several different reasons, but I've never dated him. I've only known him a few nights. I mean - how can I marry a guy I'm not "in love" with?" I spoke aloud to myself again. I needed to hear myself say the words. I needed a reality check...or something. Reassurance was what I needed, once again.

Again, I rolled out of bed, landed on my knees, clasped my hands together, took a deep breath, slowly released it and began, "Heavenly Father, I need your help again. I mean, I feel like marrying him is right, but how can I marry a guy I'm not in love with?"

And after several minutes of silence and thinking this over in my head, the answer came to me, "You will fall in love with him. You will...in time." And my eyes welled up with tears again. And a lump formed in my throat. And I felt the warmth envelope me again. I gritted my teeth and swallowed hard, nodding my head, the tears now rolling down my cheeks.

"Okay," I whispered aloud. "I trust you."

And I crawled into bed and fell into a heavy sleep.

The following afternoon a very close girlfriend of mine called up to say hi and see what I was up to lately.

"Cleaning my cupboards and drawers and closets out", I responded.

"What? Are you moving?" She asked in surprise. "What's going on with you?"

"I'm getting married", I said very matter of factly.

I heard her laugh through the phone. "You're such a liar. I'm not falling for it this time." (I have a reputation for practical jokes.)

"Actually, I'm not," I said, giggling nervously.

I could hear her gasp through the phone, "Are you marrying ___________?" (She was speaking of my boyfriend.)

"Nope", I said. "I haven't even heard from him in days. He won't return my calls or come around. I have no idea where he is".

"Okay. What?" She asked - completely confused.

And so I proceeded to explain about meeting this Frenchman on-line the night after my last gig and how we hit it off and talked for several hours night after night and then decided to just get married. It sounded completely ridiculous to me as I listened to the words coming out of my mouth in explanation to my completely baffled friend. But, in my heart, I knew it was right. I knew what I felt. I knew that I had received an answer from God. I knew I had to do this, no matter what anybody thought.

"I'm coming over," my friend spouted out in concern.

"Okay," I replied.

"Okay? That's okay? I need to come talk to you. I'm really worried about you."

I laughed and invited her again.

Within minutes she was there. I threw the door open, a big grin on my face, and laughed. She had her arms folded across her chest, a stern look on her face. "Okay, WHAT is going on?" She almost reprimanded.

"I told you," I giggled nervously. I didn't know how to handle this situation. I didn't know if my friend would try to have me committed. I had never dealt with any of this before.

We talked for several minutes as I continued cleaning out my cupboards, making room for my soon-to-be husband and his things. And finally, the burning question smacked me:

"What if he's not even a good kisser, Kristin? You've never kissed him. Have you thought about that? I mean, what if you kiss him and it's not good?" I froze mid cupboard-emptying and thought about that for a second. I had never thought about that. That thought had never even entered my mind. It seemed so irrelevant.

I slowly turned around to face her and sat down on the counter. "Okay, that's a good question. I mean, it's true - there has to be a connection on more than one level. There needs to be chemistry. I understand that. I've been married before. But, you know...I'm not worried about that. At all. I've prayed about this. I promise you I have. And I just know it's right. And I know that everything will fall into place and it will all be all right."

She folded her arms across her chest and contorted her face again - completely unconvinced. I laughed aloud and shook my head. "I can't explain this. I can see you're not falling for it. But I need you to trust me. I haven't lost my mind. This is right. It is. It's right for me. It's so unconventional..."

"It's crazy!" She cut in.

"I know. I know," I reassured her I was still somewhat sane. "I realize it sounds completely ridiculous". She nodded and I continued, "But I'm doing it. It's the right thing to do - no matter what anyone says. I have to follow what I have felt so strong in my heart. I have prayed about this and there is no doubt I have received my answer. And that's it. That's all I can say."

Eventually she left my place, still completely unconvinced that I was making a good decision. And I understood. It was ludicrous. The most extreme, ridiculous thing a person could do. But it was right. I had a burning conviction of that fact. And I was sticking to it.

The next day my sister called. We had our regular phone calls at least every other day. And today was the day for another one of those silly chat sessions. But this time the topic turned more serious.

"Scones (my nickname for my sister)," I began with a huge sigh.

"What Frassums!" She said in a mocking tone to my seriousness.

"I'm getting married," I stated very matter-of-factly.

"Oh yeah. Right! I'm not THAT stupid. You've finally lost your touch on the practical jokes. HA! Didn't get me this time!"

"Scones, I'm serious", I tried again.

She laughed out loud for several seconds and then caught her breath and changed the subject. "So, what's new?"

"SCONES!" I practically shouted into the phone. "Listen to me. I - AM- GETTING - MARRIED! I'm not kidding this time".

"Uh huh. Okay," She continued, giggling. "You're ridiculous. I'm not falling for it. Give it up!"

I heaved a frustrated sigh and fell silent. And she remained silent. And we sat that way a couple of seconds.

"Okay. Maybe you're not joking. What the heck is going on? Are you marrying __________?" She inquired after my boyfriend.

"No," I replied.

"Huh? Then who? I didn't know you were dating anyone else. I thought you and _________ were serious. " She sounded completely baffled.

"Yeah. I know. I have no idea what's going on with __________, but I met someone else and we've decided to get married." I tried to say it in as few words as possible without sounding absolutely insane. But I failed miserably.

"Okay, so let me get this straight - __________ is being all weird on you, so you're marrying someone else quick to get back at him?"

"Yeah", I replied sarcastically. "That's exactly it."

I then proceeded to explain the entire story to my sister, just as I had relayed it to my good friend the night before. And the reaction was the same. Well, with a slight twist.

"Umm...you better be careful. Seriously. Do you know how many serial killers are on the Internet? I better not be seeing you on the 6:00 news - murdered by some guy you tried to marry off the Internet." She sounded concerned now, just as my friend had.

I sighed. "I know. I know. And I am careful. I've been dating for years. A lot. You know that. I know what I'm doing. Really, I do. I've prayed about this and..."

"Okay," she cut in, still unconvinced. "If you feel like it's what you have to do. I just don't know how you're gonna' explain this one to mom and dad."

MOM AND DAD! Oh my gosh! I hadn't even thought about that. I was so caught up in trying to work this out in my own mind and explaining it to whoever called me first, I never thought ONCE about my parents and how they might react to this. My body stung with the feeling of pins and needles.

The Conclusion - Chapter 3 - The Man Of My Internet Dreams?

We reached my condo finally. I couldn't unload Tobey's truck fast enough. I wanted the gear put away and I wanted him gone so I could concentrate on locating my boyfriend.

"Well, it was fun. Cool." Tobey spoke over his shoulder as he exited my place.

"Yep", I chimed in, grabbing the door and waiting for the appropriate second I could shut it.

"Have fun with your boyfriend", he chuckled as he swung his truck door open.

"K. You have fun with all of your ladies", I called back.

The second he shut his truck door, I shut my door, spun around and ran towards my phones. The cell phone, the land line - he had to have called one of them by now. There was a message flashing on my machine.

"Oh, this better be him", I said aloud as I pressed play.

"Hi Kristin. It's your dad...." My heart sunk. I love my dad, but that was NOT the man I wanted to hear from right this second. As the message played on, I grabbed the handset and began scrolling through the past calls. Not a single one was my boyfriend. He hadn't called my land line in a while. I grabbed my cell phone and began scrolling through it simultaneously. Nothing.

I dropped both phones on the floor, gritted my teeth and breathed heavy through my flaring nostrils. I could feel my head shaking. "Un-believable", I managed through my teeth.

"Whatever! I don't care", I lied and slipped around the corner to my bedroom. My computer. I decided to check my email messages - just see if anyone happened to leave me a message - just something to do while I passed the time. I still had hope that he might call.

I opened my email. There was a message from someone on LDS Singles Online. I had formed a profile for myself several times on that site. It was always the same pattern. I would make a profile, meet some guys, date them, things would fall apart, there would be no fresh meat, I'd get frustrated and remove my profile only to form a new one three months later. But I had met this boyfriend by other means and had completely forgotten about my online profile. Apparently it was still active and someone had sent me a message.

I quickly logged on and opened my message box.

Hey. You're cute. I liked your profile. My name's Doug. Just wanted to say hi.

I felt a grin form on my face. "He thinks I'm cute? I've gotta see this guy", I said aloud. I opened his profile, saw his picture and my heart sank again. "Hmph", I grunted. "Not cute". I sighed in frustration again. "Oh well. I have a boyfriend anyway", I reminded myself.

Then I noticed at the top of the page there was a new feature. You could actually see a list of who viewed your profile. People could no longer check you out anonymously. I clicked on the tab, instantly curious as to who would check me out. I began to scroll down the list of profiles. Nothing really stood out until - suddenly it grabbed me - a cute guy sitting behind a monster drum set. "A drummer", I whispered in reverence.

I had always had a thing for drummers. A year or so after Tobey and I formed our band we decided to expand and get a bass guitar player and drummer. We started auditions and I discovered that finding the drummer was the most fun. Those drummers all had that bit of a wild side I liked and there was something about watching them play the drums. It just got me. We had found a drummer at one point and things were going great. In fact, we got contacted by a small record company and it looked like maybe something would happen. Next thing I knew, our drummer had to quit at his fiancee's urging and everything fell apart. I remembered joking at the time that I would "just have to marry the drummer to keep him in the band".

I clicked on the drummer guy's profile. He was French. "Wow", I mouthed in silence. He lived in Utah. "Not too far", I said aloud, my excitement growing.

Boyfriend? What boyfriend?

My body took over and I clicked on "Send a message". My fingers worked furiously and a message appeared before me on the screen.

You're a drummer AND you're French? Oh la la. I like that.

Then, before I could gain control, I pressed send. I pushed away from my computer and pulled my hands up to my mouth, gasping and laughing. "I can't believe I just did that?" I laughed out loud. "He's gonna' think I'm a freak." I laughed again.

A message response popped up on my screen. My eyes widened and I sat forward, squinting to see where it came from. It was from him - the French drummer. He just happened to be at his computer, logged on to LDSSO at the same time. I scooted forward excitedly in my chair and clicked on it to open it.

Oh, you like that? Well, you should hear my accent.

"Oh yeah", I thought. The goofy grin was plastered across my entire face.

How can I hear your accent? I responded.

Call my number. And he typed it.

I jumped out of my seat, ran for my phone and dialed the number. Something had completely taken over me. This was so out of character for me. It was like I had snapped. The phone rang and rang. Suddenly a message clicked on.

"Oh", I thought, a bit disappointed. "He's not even going to talk to me, huh? Oh well..." I listened to the message. He had an accent all right. A heavy French accent. It was nice. I had always had a thing for foreign accents - particularly South American and European. When the message ended, I hung up right at the beep.

Nice. I like the accent. I typed on the screen and sent it.

Oh. You heard it? Wait. Did you call? He replied.

Yeah.

Oh. I didn't even hear my phone. Call me back.

My heart began to flutter a bit. He wanted to talk to me. Suddenly the thought of my boyfriend popped into my head and I hesitated. But only for a second. "Hey, my boyfriend's not calling me back. He's ignoring me. He has to be. I'm just going to have a little fun tonight. That's all. Serves him right for ignoring me". I was always an eye-for-an-eye kind of dater. Not necessarily the most mature way to handle things, but I was young.... Okay, I was just a bit immature.

I called the French drummer back and we engaged in conversation. It flowed so easily. So naturally. I was intrigued. I was mesmerized. And obviously I did something for him because we talked until 3:00 AM.

We talked about everything - our family, our childhood, our adolescence, our trials in our adulthood. We had both been married before. He didn't have any children. He talked about his conversion to the Mormon church and I was completely drawn in. It was an amazing story. This guy had been through so much, but he was so strong. His strength is what captured me. And when we talked about what we wanted out of life and out of marriage, it just matched up perfectly. I had never spoken with someone like this before - someone whose beliefs and desires were so dead on with mine. We both had a dream to pursue music. THAT was one of the major things that always prevented my relationships from going any further. Guys had always responded with, "I don't want a wife out every weekend doing concerts" or "I don't want my wife to be more successful than me. That's just weird" or "If you're a celebrity, we won't be able to go anywhere or do anything. I don't know about that". It was always so disappointing, but I couldn't lie. I couldn't deny that I wanted a music career. It was my passion. It completed me. It was my escape. Without it, I was nothing. And this guy wanted it too - just as bad as me. And he could complete the missing piece to our band.

Finally, at 3:00 AM, I couldn't stay awake any more. I would have been content to fall asleep with him on the phone, but I was at least coherent and mature enough to realize how ridiculous this was and so I ended our conversation. And hung up the phone. And closed my eyes with a smile on my face and began to dream about this handsome French drummer from the Internet.

The Conclusion - Chapter 2 - Swimming in DE River NIAL

"So....you think you're gonna' have a boyfriend after tonight?" Tobey slurred his words with a nervous chuckle at the end.

I instantly shot him a look of death. "Why wouldn't I?" I spit the words out in disgust, rolled my eyes and stared out the passenger window of his truck, now beginning to wonder myself.

After what felt like the eternal drive to my impending doom complete with stark cold quiet, we reached our destination - Latitude 30. We unloaded our gear in silence, a scowl on my face, a blank one on Tobey's. We pushed through the heavy back doors of the building and trudged toward our makeshift stage in the corner of the bar, completely loaded down with our first batch of gear.

"Hey guys! You're here! I love when you guys come play! It's awesome!" One of the bartenders greeted us, his usual greeting. He was always overly cheerful and excited about something.

"Thanks", I sighed, offering a weak smile.

"You guys need help?" He offered.

"Sure"/"Nah", Tobey and I offered simultaneously.

"Yeah, let him help", Tobey chuckled nervously again and smacked my back.

I shrugged. "Sure. Whatever. I don't care". I set my gear down and followed the guys back out to the truck.

"Hey Frass!" Tobey called over his shoulder.

"What?" I sighed.

"Cheer up! There's other guys out there!" He somehow felt the need to console me.

But over what? I had a boyfriend. I had just hugged him in front of Tobey. Why was he acting like we were broken up? We were NOT broken up! I decided it wasn't worth getting into an argument over. Besides, I didn't have the strength. I ignored him. But what I couldn't ignore was the knot forming in my stomach. I grimaced as it tightened.

After a half hour of set up, we were ready to play. I turned my back to the audience, sipped my water, drew in a deep breath, glanced heavenward and blew it out.

"You ready?" Tobey half whispered.

"Yep. Let's do this." I responded unenthusiastically.

Tobey laughed out loud, "Wow! You sound excited, Frass!"

I pulled out my prized obnoxiously fake smile and shot it at him, then turned and faced the bar patrons. I strummed the first chord on my guitar and our first set began.

With each song, I began to feel energized. The crowd responded well and I suddenly forgot about my personal problems and actually began to enjoy the evening.

"Hey. What's up." I could hear Tobey laughing behind me.

Suddenly it dawned on me, I had been spacing out while I sang - off in another world. I had sung my songs so many times before, it was easy for my mind to drift elsewhere. I suddenly snapped back into consciousness and shot Tobey a confused look. I noticed he was nodding and smiling toward the right side of the bar. I followed the line of his gaze with my head and saw them - two young girls, one blond, one brunette, super thin, fake-baked, mid riffs showing. I glanced back at Tobey, rolled my eyes and smirked as I continued to sing.

"What?" Tobey chuckled at me. But I couldn't respond. Not yet.

The second the song ended I spun around on my heel and placed my hand on my hip. "Do those belong to you?" I teased.

"Yep! Those are mine!" Tobey laughed.

I raised my eyebrow in mock reproach. "A little young, don't ya' think?"

"Naaah", Tobey responded nonchalantly, then turned and smiled at his groupies again.

Besides our monetary compensation for each performance, we were offered anything on the menu at intermission. We typically placed our order as we set up and they would have it ready, hot and steamy, sitting at the bar for us just as we finished our first set. It was a sweet deal. The restaurant/bar was pricey and the food was fantastic. I usually enjoyed this part of the evening the most. I've always had a passion for food.

But tonight wasn't so enjoyable. Not only was I consumed with thoughts of the earlier proceedings with my boyfriend, but now I had the rather unpleasant scene playing out just to my right. Tobey looked like a three-headed beast, his groupies sitting on each knee, their arms wrapped around his neck, sharing his meal and fighting for his attention.

"Here, try it. It's awesome", he'd say, inserting a forkful of food into one of their heads.

"Mmmmmm. Mmmmmm. Oh yeah. That's sooo gooood. Yummy." The head would respond in an attempt at seduction.

"My turn. I want some." The other head would whine.

Gag me.

The giggling and moaning was becoming more than I could bear. I pushed my plate further to the left on the bar and shifted in my seat, facing as far away from them as I could and trying to drown them out.

"Oh! Music! I almost forgot. We're supposed to play music during intermission." I heard one of the bartenders gasp. She dashed toward a small box on the wall and pushed a few buttons.

Relief!

As the music flooded my ears, I found my thoughts drifting back to my boyfriend, our most recent conversations, and the last few minutes before his departure. I suddenly longed to hear his voice. I needed reassurance now. If Tobey felt like our relationship was probably over based on what he had seen, maybe there was something there I was missing. "He wouldn't dump me for trying to pursue my dreams", I thought. But I wasn't so sure now.

I practically inhaled the rest of my meal and jumped up from the bar, shoving my plate toward the center and calling out, "Thanks. Great food." I walked briskly toward the stage and grabbed my purse. I drew in a deep breath and held it in anticipation as I lifted my cell phone out, hoping to see a missed call alert.

Nothing.

"That's okay. He doesn't want to bother me. He knows I'm performing anyway", I assured myself.

I threw my purse down and headed for the back doors of the building, throwing them open. I hadn't realized how stuffy the bar was until now. It felt good to breathe some fresh air. My heart began to pound wildly now in my chest as I dialed his number. I drew in a deep, cleansing breath, pulled the phone to my ear and blew it out quickly as I heard the first ringing tone. It rang and rang and rang. I tried to think of something clever to say. Something to make him laugh. I loved hearing his laugh. It made me want to say something funny every time I spoke to him.

"Hi...." the voice began.

"Hey, honey! How..." I started in prematurely. But alas, it was just his answering machine.

"This is ___________ (Yes, I'm actually protecting this jerk). Sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message and I'll call you back as soon as I can. Thanks."

I could feel my heart sinking into my stomach. I felt kind of nauseous; the disappointment was almost unbearable.

"Hey", I managed weakly. Then, realizing it wasn't a good idea to sound pathetic and needy at this point, I quickly changed my tone. "Just taking a break in between sets. I was thinking of you. Just wanted to say hi and see how you're doing. We should do something later. Give me a call. You can leave me a message if you want. I'll call you back at the end of the show. Love you. Bye."

I hung up and released a sigh as I gazed toward the heavens and muttered under my breath, "Please call me back. Please." I checked my watch. We had a few more minutes. I paced around on the veranda out back and observed the scenery around me. It was a beautiful sight. The bar we played at was located in an upscale resort located on a small mountain butte. The view of the city lights was breath-taking. I wished my boyfriend was there with me. How great would that be to cuddle in his arms and take in the sight together. Making out in between wouldn't be so bad either. After a few minutes I snapped out of my daze and checked my phone again, hoping somehow maybe he'd called during my daydream and perhaps I just hadn't heard my phone ring.

Nothing.

Now the frustration was setting in. "Why won't he call me? I mean, seriously - what is he doing right now that's so important he can't pick up the phone?" I heaved a sigh of frustration and stormed back into the building. I just wanted the night to be over. I wanted to go home and I wanted him to call.

I could see the three-headed beast still devouring its meal at the bar. I rolled my eyes and called out, "Hey, Tobey! It's time for our last set!" I grabbed my guitar, strapped it on, turned the sound equipment back on and stood there in an impatient stance, trying not to roll my eyes again. I watched the three-headed beast pull apart into three separate beings and Tobey finally approached the stage. "All right! Let's do this!" He called out excitedly. "I'm having fun tonight! Are you having fun?" He asked excitedly.

I pulled my fake grin and shut my eyes. "Fabulous", I replied sarcastically.

Tobey simply chuckled nervously. He knew me well enough at this point to know that saying anything more to me would only increase the intensity of my very bad attitude.

After what felt like an eternity, we completed our final set. The second the final note faded, I spun around and began throwing my guitar into its case, working furiously to take down the stage. Tobey took note and jumped in, working right alongside me. We worked in silence. He only spoke to his groupies who now swarmed us.

Within twenty minutes we had our equipment completely packed up and we were ready to go. It was a new record for us. I opened the passenger side of Tobey's truck and jumped inside. As I pulled the door shut behind me, I realized he wasn't inside the truck. I peered out the back window and saw him grabbing at his groupies, flirting and laughing.

"Uggh. Spare me!" I scoffed, rolling my eyes. I decided to check my phone again. I had waited until now to check it. I expected disappointment and yet when I saw that, once again, I had no missed call alerts on my phone, my spirits sank to a new low.

Tobey jumped into the truck just then, laughing. He slammed his door shut, buckled his seatbelt and started to insert the key, but froze suddenly and turned his gaze toward me. "Hey. You all right?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"Yeah. Good. Just tired." I replied. It was half true.

"You gonna' do something with your boyfriend tonight?" He asked.

"Yep. Just waiting for him to call me back. He'll be calling any minute now", I sounded like I was trying to convince myself more than anything.

"Cool", he replied and inserted the key fully into the ignition. His truck engine roared to life and he threw it into gear and squealed out of the parking lot, most likely to impress the ladies. I sighed and stared out the window.

Within a few seconds of leaving the parking lot, Tobey's phone rang.

"Heeyyy", Tobey laughed. "What's up? Long time no see." He laughed again. "Yeah. Totally", he called out excitedly into his phone. "I'm totally up for that. Let's PAR-TAY! Yeah."

I could feel myself gritting my teeth. My feet began to tap impatiently on the floor. I picked my cell phone up and checked it again. Nothing.

"No", Tobey continued into his phone. "The more the merrier. What are their names? Shayna? Cool. Who else? Yeah, I know Jenny. Hey, I'm lovin' lots of people bein' there, especially all girls. Cool. All right, well I've just gotta' go unload my gear and I'll be right over." He laughed out loud as he hung up the phone. "Man!" He laughed again, this time speaking to me. "Those girls are crazy! They like wanna' have me come over and get in the jacuzzi with 'em all tonight and they're bringing like five other girls with them. Can you believe that?"

I smiled weakly and raised my eyebrows at him. "Wow. That IS crazy", I purposely responded unenthusiastically. "You and seven girls, huh?"

"Hey, did your boyfriend call you back yet?" He cut in.

I sighed. "No. But, he will. In fact, he's probably just called my home phone because he knows that's where I'm going, so....yeah, I'll just make plans with him when I get home".

"All right. Cool", he replied.

And we drove home in silence. Tobey and I did. His phone continued to ring throughout the course of our journey and I had the unwanted pleasure of hearing more about his wild and crazy plans for the night.

The Conclusion - Chapter 1 - The End That Started The Beginning

It was November 6, 2004. I had a show to do. I was tiring of these regular gigs. Sure, they paid good money and it was exposure and I was supposed to love performing. I was supposed to. The problem is it was taking away from my relationship. My boyfriend was getting tired of me being unavailable every weekend. Or maybe he was getting tired of me and this was just another excuse to get him out of our verbal contract without a hitch.

He had been by my place that afternoon. This was a ritual. We would spend the afternoon before a show together. It always ended at my place. Usually on my couch. I'd be in his arms and the frustration would manifest itself in heavy sighs.

"I can do something after wards", I attempted to console him.

"At what time?" The disgust was evident.

"Honeyyy", I whined playfully. "It's not THAT late. There's stuff we can do...." But I couldn't really think of anything besides sitting on my couch, making out, trying to keep it clean.

There was no reply. And so we sat in silence staring out the window of my condo, the view of the smog-filled sky and thug-riddled apartment building across the street half concealed by an ugly old brick wall. I closed my eyes and nuzzled into his chest a little deeper, imagining we were on an island in paradise, relaxing in the sun. I breathed in a deep, cleansing breath and let my imagination take over. We stayed frozen. Silent. Our rhythmic breathing mingled with cars whizzing by and the occasional honk or shout from beyond the wall.

DING! DONG!

I had never had a problem with the sound of my doorbell...until now. Now its sound was officially categorized as annoying - like the sound of my buzzing alarm clock at a ridiculous hour of the morning just so I could get a head start on the daily transcription load, which I happened to perform approximately 2 feet from my bed. Completely torturous.

I heaved a sigh and pushed my body off the sofa. I straightened out my clothing, fixed my hair in the mirror hanging above my couch, heaved another sigh and looked apologetically into my boyfriend's eyes.

He rolled his and straightened up on the sofa, bending over to rest his elbows on his knees and hold his head in his hands. I bit my lip and tousled his hair. "I'm sorry, baby", I replied.

DINNNNG! DONNNNG!

"Coming!" I shouted. I had completely forgotten already - so easily drawn into the bubble that formed around myself and my significant other every time he came around. I was such a pleaser. So consumed in the relationship.

I dramatically threw the door open. "WHAT!" I shouted playfully. It was Tobey, my lead guitarist. I was expecting him. It was time. Time to load the gear, drive to the gig, unload the gear, set it up, pretend I was a rock star for two hours, then take all of the gear down, reload it, drive home, and unload the gear back at my place. It was exhausting just thinking of it - week after week. But I had formed this band. I had agreed to pursue this dream. And I had people counting on me to follow through on it.

My boyfriend immediately headed for the door, calling out, "Well, have fun" as he brushed by, no eye contact, not even a touch.

"Babe, you don't have to leave right this second," I pleaded.

Tobey caught sight of my pathetic state just then and chimed in, "Yeah, you don't have to go, man."

"Yeah?" My boyfriend stopped dead in his tracks and turned abruptly in his tracks, a glare in his eye. "What am I supposed to do? You're just getting ready to go. It's not like there's anything we can do right now".

"You could help us load", Tobey half chuckled and turned to grab some gear.

I shot Tobey a look of horror and glanced hesitantly toward my boyfriend. He responded to Tobey with a glare at the back of his head and I responded with a sheepish grin. "It's okay. You don't have to", I attempted to blow away the awkward cloud looming overhead.

"I gotta' go", my boyfriend said very coolly.

I contorted my mouth and nodded silently. My boyfriend quickly strode across the room toward me, grabbed me quick in a tense, awkward hug, his face turned away from mine, and then released me just as quickly and turned to leave, calling over his shoulder, "I'd help you, but I've got somewhere I need to be. I'm late. Good luck. Have fun."

And that was it. He was gone. Little did I know that would be the absolute last time I would ever lay eyes on him. Even to this day.

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.